Hi everyone. I'm not sure what I'm doing here, but the logic points to me that I need to talk to someone. Running out of alternatives, this might be one my few last bets. Generally speaking, I'm just tired. Tired of waking up. Tired of going to uni. Tired of going to work. Tired of communicating. Tired of acting. Tired of living. Tired of doing all those things I used to enjoy. I've been struggling for the past 11 years, each time telling myself to hold on. Things will get better soon. Things will get better in the future. Things will improve. I'm not sure how many more years I'm going to continue to lie to myself. Things are not going well. Things will not get better. Things will not improve. I'm losing it, and I'm tired of holding on. What prompted me to at least find a place to seek help is recently I had looking for ways to kill myself as quickly and cleanly as possible. This scared me so much that I vomited as soon as I realized what I was looking up on. I had always thought of dying, but actually doing it? But I am even more terrified at calling for help from friends and family - they never did understand every time I'm trying to tell them that I needed help. In the end I would just nod and smile, telling them I'm all OK and walk away. Inside, I'm bleeding and in pain. As if the migraines and chest pains aren't enough. They told me it's a phase that every teenager go through. All the angst and emo. Right, angst. Now 11 years later all I can see are either shades of grey and black. I've been depressed for so long that I can't remember what happiness and love feel like. I've been wearing the friendly and cheerful mask for so long that I automatically switch to "friendly" mode whenever I walk out of my room door. I'm always the good boy in the family, always the good friend in my circle, always the good co-worker in my office. Always the positive one. Always the listening one. Always the helpful one. Always the smiling one. Always the funny one. Always the kind one. And I'm sick of it all. Because back in my own room, when I can put down my mask, all I wanted to do was to lay down on my bed, sleep, and hope that I won't wake up tomorrow. It's OK even if it's the end of the world tomorrow, just don't let me wake up ever again. At least when I'm asleep and not dreaming I don't feel the anxiety and sorrow. Dreams? Most of the times I get nightmares. There's still some miles for me to go on, but I'm not sure if I can make it to the end. I guess all I need is some encouragement? Some advice? I'm not sure. Anything to make me walk the miles left I guess. Regards.