I've contemplated suicide a lot in my life. It's been a long difficult journey in which I've had a lot of guilt, misery and depression. Although I had got as far as sitting on the edge of a high building thinking about the drop I'd never actually gone through with anything before. Until this year. I was going through probably the most difficult period of my life. Living with an ex partner and two of her friends, who were making my home life miserable by constantly bullying and picking on me. I'd just started a new job, where I had no resources, no support and a very high workload; and to top it off, the girl I'd left my ex to start seeing, was leaving me to go back to her ex. She'd had an abortion over the summer, it was his child, and I'd supported her through the ensuing turmoil. She promised me she was over him. She wasn't. That coupled with my ongoing untreated clinical depression was too much to take. I threw her out of her own bedroom, locked her out and then attempted to stab myself in the heart with a 6 inch knife. Lay there with 6 inches of steel buried in my chest and the sound of her hysterically banging on the door was strangely the most peaceful moment of my life. I heard her flatmates tying to placate her, trying to make sense of this hysterical girl. I heard them call me. I looked down at the blood and thought that soon it would be over. I was wrong.