If this is in the wrong place feel free to move. I've tried not to be too specific about anything suicide-related. I felt like I needed a place like this today, because although for a while I'd been having suicidal thoughts, it's only recently I've started to approach the "planning stage" which is something I've not done in about a year, and this time it's more earnest. Backstory - I suffer from occasional migraines, which don't happen often but are horrid when they do, and recently I've had a headache/discomfort that wont go away. The doctor doesn't think it's serious and probably stress, which makes sense (since I'm incredibly stressed and depressed recently), and I think she's right. The headache isn't what I want to talk about though, it's the fact that there was a point when I was worried it was serious, and although there was an initial panic, I started to plot my own suicide because if it was serious I didn't want to die slowly. Also, I'd finally have a sympathetic excuse to kill myself. The idea of killing myself, of my death, began to give me peace, even happiness. Then when the doctor told me it was nothing serious, I actually felt disappointment. And although I don't spend day and night thinking about the head issue - as annoying as it is, it does go away sometimes - the desire to kill myself has not really gone away. The pre-existing concerns and foundations for my depression have flooded back in. And I feel like I can't escape. I lost my job and am young, so I'm still living at home which I hate. I have ambitions, but can't seem to get a new job no matter how hard I try. It's a small flat I live in, and I don't get on with my dad (who is a moron, and was physically and verbally abusive throughout my childhood) and my mum is fragile, and I can't lean on her because she's not strong enough to deal with my depression. In fact, a while back she suffered from a breakdown which she said (although she didn't mean it in a nasty way) that she thought was brought on by knowing I was suicidal/cutting. I have several friends, but only two I feel comfortable being candid about my depression with - my two best friends. But much as they always insist I should come to them, one suffers from depression and has a history of self-harm themselves so I don't like to lean on her too much, and the other I feel like a burden to, and she recently lost her first serious boyfriend to lung cancer, so talking about wanting to kill myself would seem selfish. We don't have any extended family I can talk to. I don't want to be that sort of person who posts depressing stuff on their blog all the time, because that's supposed to be a distraction for me. I'm sure I'd feel better if I moved out, maybe? But although I have plans to move in with my best friend, I need a job first and that doesn't seem to be on the cards right now. And my lack of job makes me feel especially guilty since my parents don't work and won't again (my mum stopped working before she had me, and my dad hasn't worked for about eight years). Logically, I know it's all in my head. I know that I could be anything I wanted to. It all makes sense on paper. But everything is just this horrible cloud of grey. It's like I'm not seeing the same world other people are seeing. Everything is anxiety, fear and doubt. The abuse as a child and the bullying I went through in school has made building up my self-esteem a bloody chore. I feel like it's a pointless struggle. I feel like there's a wall for me that doesn't exist for other people. I feel irrelevant and unimportant, and I feel like I contribute nothing positive or noteworthy to the lives of the people I love. I find it impossible to imagine any of them being affected negatively by my death, because I can't understand why anyone would miss me. My mum would miss me, hell my suicide would probably wreck her, but that doesn't give me motivation to avoid suicide, it just guilts me away from it. I think guilting the suicidal is useless - at least in my case - it just reinforces the idea I'm a scumbag and should die. Right now that's pretty much my sole reason for not killing myself. But now I'm looking at pictures of high places in the country I live in and figuring out how long it would take me to get to them. So I figured maybe I should say something? I'm just so tired, and I don't believe in happiness any more.