I feel like a very typical case. I grew up poor, my parents didn't hug me enough, blah, blah blah. My mother is borderline and made my life a living Hell while I lived with her. She hated me. She loved me. Either way, I felt ripped apart. It took a long time to realize I was being abused. I thought it was normal. I was isolated and didn't have many friends. I thought that was my fault too. I struggled, flopping between being the Pollyanna and wanting to drown myself at any moment. Then I finally snapped and changed states to live with my aunt and then everything started to feel okay. I made friends at my school. I wish I found a boyfriend though. I've never had one and I want to feel loved. I can't afford to go to college. I thought I had been smart, and had it all figured out, but a little bit of fine print robbed me of any sense of hope. It was the only thing I looked forward to. The people I love all seemed so happy that I no longer constantly fantasized about killing myself and had my eyes on the future. It seems like every time I find some shred of a possibility of happiness, I blow it. I am so done with life. People keep telling me I need to be more optimistic, but how can you when everything you've ever gotten excited about went away or wasn't like what you pictured? The only times I ever feel okay is when I'm lost in a fantasy. I dream about being loved or being successful, or far away lands that my mind creates. Reality ensues pretty quickly. I can't die because it would hurt people. My friend told me that (I did what I was supposed to, I called a friend) but I still feel so empty and lonely and pitiful and pathetic and halfway gone. I want the pain to die or the meds to work or something ANYTHING to stop it all. I'm just so tired. Help? Suggestions?