As long as I can remember I've been miserable. Tried everything, trying new sports, new meds, a whole bunch of different therapies, but nothing has worked. I can only sleep about 2 nights a week, which sucks. The rest of the time I'm either with my family (who don't give a shit, pretend to but they're so fake about it they may as well not bother), or alone with my thoughts, which is the dangerous time. I've tried to end it more times than I care to count. But the latest time was eating about 300 codeine pills with a couple of bottles of beer. Woke up not long ago, itchy as fuck and feeling pretty sick. Meh. Tried hanging, cutting, poisoning myself, drinking till i get alcohol poisoning, and driving my car really fast towards a pole, but I either fail or pussy out at the last moment (cause I'm just a coward). Epic fail. My family thinks I'm making it all up, that I just want the attention. This can be easily seen by the fact they know my triggers and use them against me. For example one of my triggers is people going through my stuff. Parents think I use that as an excuse for me to hide things (like drugs, I smoke a bit of pot from time to time, but only once I haven't slept for a week + as it's the only thing that helps). Which is bullshit. But no, I come home yesterday and dad's going through my bedside cabinet. 20 minutes later I'm knocking back the pills and taking to my arm with a razor blade. But no I'm just making it up dad. I'm fucking over it, there is no light at the end of this tunnel. And every time I think there is one it's just a train coming the other way. I've been ok for about 6 months since starting on Velnafaxine, but it seems to be like every other med I've been on. Works for a few months then stops. I've been on citalopram, nortriptaline (or however it's spelled), fluoxetine, venlafaxine, clonazepam, zopiclone, and a few others that I can't remeber right now. Fuck it. I'm so over this.