I guess I better post why I'm here, and the events leading me to here, otherwise I'm never going to get anything out of this. It's hard coming to a new forum, as everyone already has their own friendships and bonds, especially in a place so emotionally driven as this. As a newbie, I sort of feel a little bit outcast, even though you all do seem very warm and caring. My initial plan was to just type everything in one go, one massive detailed post, and then leave it. But the problem is it'd be so long no-one would bother reading it, as these events take place over the past 4 or so years. So instead, I'll give you the shortened version, the one I send to The Samaritans every time they need a catch up. The whole thing seems like a whirlwind tour through all the topics on the main page: bullying, violence, depression, suicide attempts, sexuality, insomnia, sexual abuse, lather, rinse, repeat. It all began back in the second year of A-Level, when I was 17/18. At that time I was feeling extremely under pressure, as the workload I was getting was more than I could take, and I found myself unable to keep up with the standard of the other students. The problem here is that I didn't really have a lot besides my schoolwork to fall back on - I was always good at school, being in top sets and getting good grades, and although I had a group of friends, I wasn't exactly popular. I've always been looked down upon as a nerd, which is unfair because I'm not really, but my glasses and good school reports are all it takes it convince some people. But when my grades started slipping, I wasn't really left with much at all. My friends all left to do other things, leaving me by myself at sixth form with too much pressure and no way to relieve it. Unfortunately, things only got worse from here on in. Amidst all this pressure of failing school (and there was a lot of pressure, as all the teachers geared everyone for university, which I wasn't sure I even wanted) there was something much worse. Some guy in my year decided to make me the butt of all his jokes, which turned very sinister the second that no-one was around. He was the class clown, someone who loved to be the centre of attention and would humilate someone in embarassing ways in order to get a laugh. It was funny to everyone except those who were being embarassed, who obviously didn't share the humour. Behind the scenes he was very manipulative, splitting up friendships and being very threatening to those who dared stand up to him. He pressured one girl for sex so much she was in tears, this made worse by the fact he actually had a long term girlfriend at the time. Anyway, he buddied up to my brother, with the sole reason to get personal gossip on me and spread it round school. He was in my lessons, with my friends and at my house... I felt like I couldn't get away. Whilst all this was going on, I had the misfortune to suffer two of the worst incidents of my life. I managed to get mugged twice in two days (it was near my birthday, which made things even worse) and I also got sexually assaulted. The latter felt like a dream almost, and I still have to force it out of myself because I can't really believe it happened. The person who did it constantly asked me about my upcoming holiday whilst they... did what they did, and so every mention of this holiday brought back flashbacks. I couldn't imagine actually going, as I'd be trapped with my thoughts all the time I was there. I stockpiled a load of paracetamol and took them, to try and get out of the whole mess. Actually, that's a lie... first, I tried to find a way out. Any way out. I talked to friends, who either disowned me or told me to grow up. I tried talking to the teachers at school about the massive workload, but they didn't care because their focus was on the people who were off to uni. I even told my parents about the abuse thing, to try and get them to let me stay at home. Their response was anger from my dad, crying from my mom, and them saying I was lying and then never mentioning it again. I tried to overdose, but as you can see, I didn't want to die, I wanted things to be better. In the end all I managed to do was screw up my kidneys, and whilst they do still work, they hurt me everyday as a reminder about it. After A-Level I was jobless for a few months, which as anyone who's unemployed for a while knows, does absolute destruction to your self-esteem. I was so miserable, I was looking for something - anything! - to help me. I had no friends, no job, no car, no money, and no girlfriend or prospect of one. I ended up sleeping with a guy I met online, partly due to curiosity (just for the record, I am straight), but mainly just to feel attractive again. When I finally did get a job, I visited a massage parlour for the same effect, something which I'm afraid to say, I have done on numerous occasions since. I ended up with serious insomnia, which I suffered from since the whole bullying incident, but which has gradually gotten worse. I got some sleeping pills, but instead of taking them I stockpiled them so I could try and off myself again. I ended up thinking about my whole life, as there's not much else you can do in bed. In the end, I realised I was a horrible, horrible person. I lie, I lose my temper very easily, I have too much anger within me, I hate myself and lots of other people, I am spiteful and manipulative, I gossip, I have stolen and I've visited prostitutes. I realised that if I die, I would be punished forever. I needed to find Jesus's forgiveness, and hopefully some salvation as well. I ended up at my local church, who were so welcoming and kind. I was baptised on Jan 6th this year, and I can honestly say that without them, I wouldn't be here now. Problem is, I hoped that this would help me be a better person. It hasn't. I'm still bad, I'm still full of hatred and self-loathing, angry and lying and paying for sex to try and raise my own self-esteem. I'm the same as before, only now I feel very guilty, as if I have failed miserably in my duty to God. I think I have to die because if I don't, this cycle will never end. I will keep being bad, which will lead to more depression and more pressure to keep it all up. My mask is slipping - either I can't force myself to put on the happy smiley face every morning, or else I'm overly cheerful to the point of being suspicious. My ex-girlfriend keeps phoning me to chat about her new conquests, which is great seeing as how I still have feelings for her. When I told her this (which was after we split), she said that "it's been 3 days, arn't you over it yet?". I can't ask her to stop talking because I don't want to arouse suspicion, so I just keep chatting and smiling, before taking it out on myself later. Whilst I'm not utterly hopeless in love (although it feels that way), I do have to ask myself how many three week relationships do I have to go through before I realise I'm just no good at this? If you've read all that, well done! You've earned yourself a cookie. Sadly I do fee I must die, because when my mask eventually does slip off and I lose it, I'll do something insanely stupid. Better to die and be remembered as a loser or a geek than as a murderer or nutcase.