So as I posted in the other thread, I'll be leaving this existence soon enough. When? Within the next couple of months maybe. Definitely before 2010. I appreciate any caring thoughts and suggestions, such as therapist recommendations etc, but frankly, it's not going to happen. Anyway, my story. Here's a brief summary of my life: I was born. For two years I lived with both my biological parents. My father beat my mother up for those two years. Then, she left him and got with this guy, who acted normal until I was four. Then he started to beat me and my sister severely - I'm talking unrestricted blows to the face, kicks in the ribs etc. This lasted five years. My mother eventually found out and left him, but she kinda went off the rails, due to her sexual and physical abuse as a child. From there, I basically tried to recover, and caused misery for others - which I really do regret. When I turned eleven, my mother was then diagnosed with cancer. I found out, but eventually left the house and moved to my Dad's for a couple of years - yes, I am a piece of shit. During that time, he bullied me - not in terms of physical abuse, just taunting, manipulating me against my sister etc. After a couple of years, I neared my teens and started to visit my mother who successfully had her cyst removed and was doing well. Unfortunately, she had a reckless lifestyle, befriended by the wrong sort. She was sexually assaulted, I wasn't there and couldn't help her. (This is a main reason to the event that will unfold.) I moved back, and ended up leaving school in the very beginning of year nine. This was done in order to support my mother, who had a nervous breakdown. From then, until 2008, my life was hell - trust me, I'd pick the physical abuse over it. Everyday my uncle - whom, was addicted to drugs and had a bad life himself - and I, (well my sister was there also, but was very young) were the only ones there. He was away most of the time. Seeing your mother attempt suicide everyday (not hyperbolic), refusing to eat and slashing herself was a devastating experience to say the least. It almost destroyed me. Things calmed down, she gradually came back to sanity, and things looked bright. For me, however, things never would. I may have left the war zone, but the damage had already been done. My mind became a mental prison. Now, I suffer from it all: claustrophobia, paranoia, panic attacks, body dismorphia, anti-social tendencies, severe depression, suicidal thoughts, extreme angers etc. You name it, I have it, plus more. On top of this, I'm ugly, untalented, shit at absolutely everything and a drain on everyone and everything I come in contact with. I'm a horrible person too. I'm not weak, I can deal with most of this, except one, which I am not going into. Now here I am, early hours of the morning, 8th July 2009. I guess the summary understated my life, but trust me when I say, I've never had a single year of happiness in my life. Just to note, this isn't a sympathy thing, I merely want to let it be known what shall happen and spend the rest of my days helping others. Do I wish I had a better life? You bet. Do I wish it on anybody else? Hell no, I am glad I was inflicted with it. Do I care anymore? Not really. As far as karma goes, it isn't going to like me. Heh, it's never been a friend of mine, so who cares... My two cents - or pennies - to you guys contemplating suicide: If there's one glimmer of hope in your life, then go for it. If you are in complete and utter despair, nothing in your life but hell, then I'm not going to lie, but if not, please! I would if I had the chance, trust me. Don't go out half-arsed unless your in a state that denies you to go on, as I am. Thanks for reading. If anyone needs somebody to chat to, drop me a pm. Take care.