Hi everyone. I just joined this forum today, I found it while searching google for suicide survivor suport groups online. I was feeling very suicidal this morning, though I think thefeelings have half passed now. I hope it is alright to share my story here. I'd like some feedback, my friends wont listen to it. Our family has always seemed to have it rough. We've been in poverty for the passed 10ish years maybe. My mother is the strongest woman alive (in my eyes at least), my father used to be brillant. My brother, Barry, is one of my best friends, my sister, Roxann (Rocky), has always been my idol and hero, she became very depressed after the accidental death of her best friend. And my last sister, Becka, is someone I can't even be in the same room with. My father had invented something called a foamizer, which is a device used to put out fires and works so much better than the equipment that firemen use. He spent years trying to sell it, while spending tremindous amounts of money on things like trucks, being sure that we were going to be rich from it. Then came the day that he did sell it, 1.5 million dollars all for us! The day that the buyer was to sign the agreement, they called and decided they were going to put the money to better use. They built an ultramar with it, which is now going under. My father struggled to find work to pay the bills, my mother had been working fulltime also, but the bills were just too much. We couldn't afford food. I stopped eating so that my family would have more food, I was only 14 at the time. Eventually the bank forced us out of our home, the home that my father built with his own hands. We found a rundown place to rent, which is where we are still. Although the shock of loosing the house and not getting the money has impaired my father for life. He now has a disease similar to severe Alzhiemers. He's not the same person. Last year, one of my best friends died by cancer. On september 28th it will be a year. I was in my 2nd year of university at the time. I became very depressed, and couldn't focus on my work, couldn't remember anything past a few hours and would cry all of the time. Many other problems were going on at this time, my mother lost her ability to walk (it is now restored), and we found out that my sister, Rocky, had a tumor in her lung. Rocky and I began to fight a bit, nothing major. She wanted to leave for Alberta which is so far away, I knew I wouldn't ever see her again, so I began to resent her, thinking she was only leaving to get away from me. I couldn't go on living this way so I decided to seek help. The doctors prescribed anti-depressants and to see a councilor. So I did. The anti-depressants began to work a bit after a few months, and the counselling seemed a help a bit. On March 20th of this year, I woke up feeling pretty good. I called my mother that afternoon about tax forms that I had to sign and she told me that Rocky had overdosed. At first I thought she was just in the hospital, I asked my mother if Rocky was alright and she replied with a quivering no. I felt my heart stop completely. "What? She's dead!?" I screamed. I couldn't believe it. All I could say was "oh god.." and then the tears came. After telling my mother that I was coming home, I hung up and went to tell my friend, Michelle, who was also friends with Rocky. She didn't seem too broken up over it, she even changed the subject once. I asked her if she would come to the funeral with me, I didn't want to go home alone. Michelle told me that she didn't have any money to go home. I later found out that she went shopping in the city on the day of Rocky's funeral. She spent twice as much as it would have cost to go home and back. Afterwards I went to tell my councilor so that she could halt my assignments. She told me I was full of it. Accused me of lying just to get out of school and even told me that I made up my dead friend. I told her to eff off and left. I can't trust people anymore because of these two people. My friends haven't been there for me since Rocky's death. I've tried to talk about her but they just change the subject. I've gone back into my deep depression since then. I refuse to take any kind of pills now, I will never depend on something that killed my sister. Especially not anti-depressants. Everyone else in my family had a bad feeling that day, except me. The medication gave me a false sense that everything was alright. I still feel like it was my fault that she did it, and I know it's true. It's killing me thinking back on all of this and knowing that if I had done this or that differently that everything would have been okay. I have two plans in life now. the first is to live on, finish my degree here, and move on to become a suicidologist. The second is to die by suicide within the next month or so. Honestly, I think it'll end up being the latter. I dont think I can pull through much longer. I have everything planned out, but doing that to my parents and brother is just awful. I hate this guilty feeling. Well that's the short version of it. Sorry it's so long. Has anyone else been through things like these? Thanks for listening.