My Life is an Enigma (Contemplating Suicide) I'm not sure why there's a point anymore; it doesn't seem to me that there is any incentive for living. It would be greatly appreciated if everyone read EVERYTHING before making a response. I just want the whole picture to be painted. Anyways, There's a number of things that have brought me to this spiraling decrescendo. Although I seldom attribute my personal well-being to my own parents, I feel that the reason why I still exist on this earth is because I thought (at one point in time) that there was more to live for. Through the course of my life, I've given too much thought into every action and intention I've had. For all the negative things that I have done, I make myself feel personally responsible/liable, which plunges me into a greater depressive state. Sometimes, I would scream out, "Fuck," in the privacy of my own home because I would remember certain events which made me look like an idiot or a complete ass. My life, in itself, is a fallacy perpetuated by my own psychological instinct. At home, I would have an extraordinarily different personality than I would at school. At home, I would be a person without any personal restrictions on what I did or said. Even though I (mostly) followed the rules of the household, I would be able to curse with my brothers without any thoughts of retribution. At school, not only did I refrain from such activities, but I became socially awkward to be around. Even though most of my friends at school are the best I could have wished for, I feel like I bring down the mood of the group, something I never wanted to happen. At school, I always give the teachers the impression that I'm an awkward child, and that my presence does improve their thoughts about me. When I try to be funny, I'm not; when I feel down, no one's there to cheer me up. For me, it was as if I was stuck in some sort of pseudo-social caste system. I would NEVER be able to acclimate myself to another point in the social scale. My self-consciousness has also played a crucial factor in my depression. I never, in my life, felt good looking. I didn't receive braces until I was 15 years old, I always kept on bundling myself up with clothes because my arms looked too skinny, and I rarely had time to blow-dry and brush my hair. Even though my brothers would say that I looked alright, I still felt they were bullshitting me so they wouldn't have to waste their breath talking about it. I've had many crushes during my lifetime, but only in one instance did I feel emotionally attached. During one of the crushes, I made myself think that I was, "in-love" with that person, purely out of my own spite. The reason why I had so many crushes, was because of how nice some of the girls were to me. Although it wasn't a rare occurrence for girls to be nice, I always felt happier when I was being flirted with. Ironically, all the flirting was unsubstantiated, as they never had any real feelings for me. Right now, I feel very emotionally attached to an extraordinarily beautiful girl. Her beauty, however, is third to her personality and the chemistry that works between us. I would find myself more than once losing myself in the endless abyss of her beautiful blue eyes. Out of the many problems that already exist in out relationship, it's also hard to think that we're second cousins. I always stopped myself from doing anything because of ideals that have been instilled in me since birth. More than 90% of the world frowns upon such relationships, and I would be shunned for any such advancement. Last summer, when I visited her house in Germany (I speak German fluently) I kissed her on the cheek before I got in the car with my brothers and parents. She seemed indifferent, which caused me to wonder about what she was thinking. Today, I was playing Rockband with her little sister when she struck up a conversation about the French language. Since I've studied the French language for some time, I asked if she knew what, "Je l'aime" meant. With no pause, she said, "I love you?" In my shock, I denied it at first, and then asked her how she knew. She simply said, "I already knew." I made her smile/laugh a lot, and it made me feel like a fucking million dollars. I tried to sit closer to her on the couch, but I could see that she seemed uncomfortable. For a little bit, I would get away from the couch so she could relax, but I was ashamed at myself for become overwhelmingly jealous when she was laughing and having fun with my brother. When I came back to sit on the couch a while later, she left 30 minutes after, saying that she had to go to bed. After I asked her what was wrong, she said, "nothing," but I knew there was something. Before going to bed, I checked the room where the couch was, and found my brother, her, and her sister sitting next to him with his computer on his lap. My brother's humor is so blatantly stupid and moronic, and for some reason or another, his humor/persona out-trumps mine. I guess it won't matter for long. As of right now, my parents have refused to acknowledge any correlation between my thoughts of suicide and clinical depression. I AM clinically depressed, and I feel I won't last much longer if I'm denied the right to talk to someone, or receive help. My parents have the best of intentions, and are great, but they ignore any and all warnings signs that I have had. Can someone just please listen to me? I wish all these problems would just fade away without putting a bullet between my eyes. I wish I could cry and not give a good god damn.