Hi. I tried to post here earlier, but my post was lost. Anyway, hi. I am new here. I have been struggling with depression for as far back as I can remember, though because I always had rational reasons for feeling this way, I never thought too much of it. I realise now that this is the wrong attitude to have, but I was born in a backwards slum filled with chavs, apes and subhumans who believed very wrong things. I was raised by these people, on and off. I say that because there were long stretches of time where I was simply left alone in the house, not that I minded. I have a text file of my backstory written somewhere on this old potato of a laptop, should I post it here? Anyway, something that isn't in that file: I attempted suicide once when I was a kid. I think I was nine at the time. In a busy street, I tore my hand away from my mother's and ran into oncoming traffic, spreading my arms out like Jesus himself and waiting for the car to take me. The cars stopped, and the punishments I received and was told that I deserved convinced me to not try it again. That, and the promise I made to myself when I was ten. I promised that I'd live until I was old (Thirty), and if things hadn't gotten better, I'd <mod edit> However, I have recently caught myself thinking of killing myself early more and more, and so I decided to come here.