Hello all. As you can see from the (what I view as) cheerful happy font/color, I do TRY to be happy. I try to be well as well. Sometimes I indulge my "crazy," but isn't it necessary sometimes? I'm here because for the longest time I've been way depressed. I even got the nifty title of Major Depressive Disorder & Panic/Anxiety Disorder. Aren't I lucky? Through my own research I'm pretty sure I have Borderline Personality Disorder, but I have to find some more bucks to shell out before I can get that shiny title. The last year I've been trying multiple antidepressants and while I probably get out of bed more, overall they don't do much for me. I'm 5-2 and less than 100 pounds so you think SOMETHING would soak into my system, but I guess not. I'm here today because the love of my life killed himself two months ago. In two days he will be buried for two months. All my before "messed-upness" is just compounded by his death to an extreme I can barely bare. I'll leave the rest of his/our story for another forum section. Currently, I ran away from my cousin (I'm 25, but have a hard time with life things like a job, and bills ect). I mowed the lawn yesterday with one of those mechanical push mowers and I thought how FUNNY my love would have thought that was. I wanted to tell him SO badly. I wanted to tell him to get his butt over there and mow it for me, manly man that his is/was. I broke down and sobbed thinking he'll never mow that lawn, his lawn, or worse of all... OUR possible future lawn. I decided it would be a good idea to drink 4 Alaskan ale (yum) and steal two of my cousins klonapine. I make the mistake of txting my brother telling him about it and the next thing I know, the WHOLE family knows. Next morning the bottle of pills was gone. So I packed up my car and drove to the ocean. I have an idea of living in my car now with my little dog, but we'll see how I fell in the morning. I'll be 26 in two months. I despise myself and the one thing that made me happy (a problem in itself) is gone forever. If he could do it (by hanging no less) why can't I? I just can't get to that point though. So this is me. Everyone else I know (friends, family) are either tired of hearing of my love's death (it's ALL I think about) or they think I need to be locked up because I'm coocooforcoacoapuffs. I hope I can tell my story here and know that these feelings are legit. Now I'm off to tell my love's story in the remember part. Nice to meet you all!