My mom has attempted suicide in the past (although it’s been 15-20 years), and I had a good friend die from suicide about 10 years ago. Having been through both of those things, I always swore to myself that I would never get to that point. In fact, I couldn’t imagine things getting to that point. I’m 42 years old and have never recognized any sign of mental illness in myself, until a few months ago. And last week my GP diagnosed me as suffering from major depression. In January (this year), I realized there was something wrong with me. It started with thoughts of not caring if I died, and eventually moved to clearly suicidal thoughts. I had no zest for anything in my life anymore. I lost interest in everything – hobbies, church, friends, work. I just didn’t have any energy or motivation about anything in my life. As this went on, I knew I should get help. But I wouldn’t do it. Instead, I lived a lie, faking smiles through the day and going home to journal how I really felt. I started planning my suicide, working out every little detail. On April 14th, I finalized my suicide plan. Everything was done, everything was in place. On that same day, a part of me was still trying to convince myself to get help. I went so far as to find a suicide chatline on the Web, and I just wouldn’t make/let myself click the “chat now” button. I felt that to actually get help would mean not getting to die, and if I admitted my problem, I would forever be labeled as someone who had been suicidal. The following day, I believe God intervened to stop me, because nothing else can explain it. I went from not wanting help and ready to end it all to making a call to my GP in a single instant. There was no thought, no gradual process, nothing. I just made the call. I believe someone, somewhere was praying for me and God answered their prayer. He wasn’t answering my prayers, because I had turned my back on Him as well. I know this may open a whole theological discussion, but that’s not necessarily my intent. I just wanted to explain how I went from ready to die to ready to live. My GP diagnosed major depression and prescribed Lexapro. I’ve been on it for ~10 days and yesterday was the first day I noticed feeling better. It wasn’t dramatically different or anything, but I did notice I didn’t feel as down as I had been feeling. I will go to my first (ever) therapist session on Monday. I’m sharing all of this because I’ve found myself drawn to these boards the last couple of days, for a variety of reasons. Plus, I feel like I can handle it now, without it triggering anything in me. I’ve read many of the posts and I see so many people talk about how terrible their lives are, how they cry/sleep all the time, and just can’t face another day. I understand that completely, but it’s not where I was. I guess I am looking to see if anyone else is/was where I was, where you just kinda lost the will to live. I found no enjoyment in anything, and in most cases in my daily life, found myself thinking, “I’m so glad I’m never going to have to do or deal with that again.” Thanks for reading.