Hey there everyone- I imagine I'm here for the same reason many of you are. I've struggled with suicidal ideation for most of my life, it has seriously effected the quality of my life, I want it to stop and I don't know what to do. Suicidal ideation isn't easy for me to talk about, since I can't pinpoint a single discrete reason for why I suffer from it. The assumption that I would, and would do it soon, has been with me since I was around twelve, maybe younger. At that age, it didn't bear analyzing. My parents got divorced around the time I was eleven, but I don't remember that as a tragic part of my life- the divorce was amicable and I kept a good, regular relationship with both parents. Around that time, though, I remember being convinced that I was dying of a venereal disease, that I would inevitably castrate myself and die shortly afterward. I can't remember anything that may have given me that idea and I can't remember a distinct point at which it appeared. I knew how flatly irrational it was, but that didn't make it go away. Here it may bear mentioning that I have never suffered from any sexual abuse. My knowledge that this conviction didn't make sense didn't stop its persistence. I have never harmed myself, though, and eventually the delusion (for lack of a better word) disappeared around age eighteen. I think I eventually made it go away just through years of telling myself how absurd it was. However, the fact that I continued to be suicidal suggests that whatever that episode was, it wasn't related to me being self destructive (not directly, anyway). I first mentioned my thoughts of suidide around the age of 13. I had been seeing a psychiatrist for ADHD and during one visit I just decided to speak frankly about how I was doing. I didn't mention the castration delusion- I've only ever talked about that with one person, and not for another few years -but I did say that I regularly fantasized about dying and I needed to in order to fall asleep. Naturally, my mom sat in on the session. During the drive home she suggested the possibility of putting me in touch with a therapist at the clinic she worked at. I said something noncomittal and it never came up again. She eventually told my dad and he started acting sulky and passive aggressive and one day he said "Your mom said you're thinking about killing yourself," while looking at me in this incredulous and slightly offended way. After that I never openly talked about my suicidal thoughts until I was 21. At that age I was a sophomore in college, persuing an education degree. Throughout my stint in college, I was frequently torn between a sense of accomplishment and a certainty that I had nothing to work for. I'm trying to be concise about this and maybe this would work better if some of you sent me private messages about stuff that might need clarification. What it boiled down to is that my whole life was- and currently is -future oriented, and I had no will to live. The farther into my degree program I got, the more of a futile waste it seemed like, especially since I was using student loans. I wasn't going to survive, I rarely experience pleasure and there's just nothing to work for. I regularly drank with my roommate and the gist of this came out in a drunken monologue. He suggested I get help. Soon, I had an alcoholic black out, during which I apparently said I was going to kill myself. I don't remember the incident, but I remember a ride in a squad car and spending the morning in jail. Shortly after that I began the first long term romantic \ sexual relationship of my life. For my part I was happy to have a relationship because I felt like I needed emotional support, but I couldn't even ask for it. After all, I still didn't know what was wrong. This ignorance led me to be fairly reserved in some aspects, and when we eventually got engaged and moved in with her parents, I knew something would have to change. That was the first time in my life where I sat down and thought to myself "okay- if I'm going to be a good life partner, I need to be interested in living. So what now?" I painfully drew a blank for a few weeks and then I had an idea: crossdressing. I can't say why that made as much intuitive sense as it did. I did do it when I was a small child. I even insisted on taking the girl's bathroom pass in elementary school and the majority of my friends had usually been girls. I don't know what that means, I'm just saying there was a precedent. Another thing that informed this particular decision was the fact that, since we were engaged, I was about to be a husband. Not only was it presumed that I was going to live, but it was presumed that I was going to live as a male. I had never thought of myself as gendered before and it seemed like a bizarre, vaguely threatening prospect. I really don't know if I'm transgendered- I'm actually inclined to think I'm not. What this amounted to at the time was that I could stand to be male forever if I could take breaks now and then, if I could rest assured that my male role was simply a social niche that circumstance placed me in and that I didn't have to take it into my private life. I also felt as if having an expressed female self could somehow lend me a healthy optimism which would make it easier for me to live a future oriented life. I don't know why. The fact taht I didn't know why was a big problem my fiancee had, and our relationship didn't get any better from that point onward. The crossdressing wasn't the sole problem, although it was kind of a biggie. If there was a biggie, it was my disinterest in a future. I couldn't afford the university I had transferred to in order to live with my fiancee, so after we broke up I finished up the semester and came home. I'm 23 and I'm living with my parents and I'm a junior. I work at a hotel. If I might fit something else into this painfully long message- the only thing that's ever stirred anythign resembling ambition inside of me is art, particularly story telling. I've written stories for as long as I can remember, and it's the only thing in my life that I've ever felt was strictly mine, and could sustain me spiritually. If anything is mine, if I have anything like a calling, it's that. In fact, the hope of writing professionally was probably the only thing that stopped me from killing myself during early adulthood. SOOO.......after long last, we're pretty much finished! I'm a crossdressing writer who may or may not be transgendered. I guess strong sources of tension at the moment is the fact that I forfeited my financial aid when I changed my major from education to english, which I did fairly recently. I had taken english major classes before making the decision, to the detriment of my degree progress toward an ed degree, so amazingly I'm still junior standing. I was basically double majoring in an unofficial way before now. So having decided to work toward something I can actually find vitality in is probably the best thing I've done in awhile. Also, last semester I made a decision not to kill myself. While I was engaged, I felt like I had a responsibility to live. Last semester, I decided that I was DEFINITELY going to live. Not for anyone, but for myself. I still struggle with suicidal ideation, but I've decided that I'm no longer gonna let it be the dominant factor in my life. Now we're done. I promise So....hello from Leland! I look forward to meeting you all!