I am a 22 year old lady with one kid. He is 3 and his name is Kyle. I have dealt with depression, abuse, and many other issues since I was about 12. I have tried to kill myself probably about 6 times. However it wasn't until recently that I really understood what it felt like to truly want to die. To truly want to end your life here on Earth. I know what it felt like, and it hurts bad.

I grew up in a large family. I had 6 sisters. We were always poor and we were raised with government aid because my father had a pretty bad heart condition and couldn't work. My father was a severe alcoholic. He would come home at least 4 nights a week 3 sheets in the wind as my mom would say. Around the first of the month when he got his check it would be everyday for at least a week

When my father wasn't drunk he was okay. He was always a very strict man and very set in his ways. I could deal with that. But when he was drunk he was horrible. The difference was like night and day. He would hit on us, but mainly it was my mom. I bet she felt so ashamed because I sure did. He would scream and holler, call us all kinds of names. I guess he was disappointed at having all girls and no boys. He insisted that we were sluts etc...I'm sure you know the other words.

My older sisters one by one ran away. My father insisted that it was to whore around, but it was really to get away from him. We were all pretty good kids. My very oldest sister had it even rougher where she moved to. Her boyfriend would beat her. He too drank. One night we received a phone call and then the police came. They said she had been in an accident and didn't make it. Her boyfriend was drinking and driving and he hit a telephone pole. on the side of the car that she was in. HE remained unharmed walking away with only a broken leg. It is so unfair.

After that my father quit drinking and said he wouldn't drink anymore. He moved us to the country where he felt it was "safer". About a year later he began drinking again. That was when all my major trouble started. I ran away about 7 times before my parents would leave me alone and realize I wasn't staying there.

I went from friends to friends. I had nowhere to go. It was living on the streets, but it beat living in the hell I called home. No more school, no more friends, no more being a kid. I had to quit school and get a job.

I eventually had a suicide attempt that landed me in a hospital (not the one I am going to tell you about in a minute). That was the first time I saw a psychiatrist.

I was stubborn and wouldn't give them info and believe it or not called my parents to please get me out of there cuz they were the only ones who could. They did. I was miserable. I look back and wish that I would have spoken with that doctor, because since then I have been diagnosed with bipolar II, along with other things. I wish I would have known back then because I believe my life would be different today. My parents too knew something was wrong with me, but they would never take me to get help. Maybe they were afraid that my fathers alcoholism would be exposed. Back then I took it as they didn't care.

I ran away again, this time for good. I met up with the man I am with today. He is 8 years older than me, but I love him I think. We had some wonderful times when we first got together. He was wonderful. He was like my rescuer. He took me away from all those memories. I tried to forget life before him. When I turned 18 I became pregnant. I was so happy. I loved the thought of being a mother. He was born a very healthy young boy. He was my life. I wanted to give him so much better than what I got growing up. Times became even harder after he was here. We were struggling so badly financially that we ended up living with other people many different times. It is very hard to live with someone and have a kid too. I became even more depressed because here I was giving my son a life this way that I could not change. I began to think he was doomed to live the way I do now, because I am living proof that the way you are raised does have an effect on your life as an adult. I was scared for him. I wanted him to have so much. I was giving him nothing. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

My boyfriend started to show his true colors. He would drink sometimes too. He would also come to hit me. It was nothing like my father, but it got to me. He doesn't touch the stuff anymore. He was married twice before and now I was beginning to see why the marriage didn't work out. He was horribly jealous, telling me where I could not work and always accusing me of looking at other guys. He was just controlling. I realize now that he too had a problem and I understood. It still didn't make me feel any better. How was I ever going to get away from men like this!??!!! I wanted to leave him, but didn't want to be on the streets with my son. Plus I cared about my boyfriend very much and I feared that he would do something stupid if I left him too and took away his 3rd child. (2 from other marriages).

We eventually got into an apartment and lived there stable for a couple months. My boyfriend couldn't understand why I couldn't be happy. We had a home of our own. We were arguing so much. He would go straight to this computer when he got home and we wouldn't even talk. I felt all alone even though I had someone in just the other room. I would look around at the apartment and just cry. Sure it was a home, but it was dirty, small, everything was broke, and it was like living in the projects. This isn't the way its supposed to be. I felt trapped. It seemed no matter how hard I tried things weren't going to change. Doomed. My son was going to be doomed as well. I was living his future and it drove me insane.

One night I was sitting on the couch staring at the TV. My son was asleep and my boyfriend on the computer. I got to thinking about my life. Ya know feeling sorry for myself and stuff. I just couldn't pick a time in my life when I was ever truly happy. I felt like well that proves it......I don't deserve to be happy. I sat for hours in self pity. I sorted through my teenage years, nobody at school liked me, my family sucked, I couldn't even get close to God no matter what I tried. So far my adult life wasn't much better....poverty, hurt, and well I still had not one friend., couldn't hold down a job, etc etc etc I could go on and on. That night I did. I bet I came up with thousands of reasons why I was better off dead.

It was then I knew that I really wanted to die. All the times I tried suicide before I just wanted a change, for something to be different. Now I felt that there was no chance for change. I was surrendering. Its amazing because before I was so afraid of going to hell that I stopped myself many times. this time hell didn't even matter. I didn't let myself think upon that. Maybe because I knew I would chicken out if I did.

I went into the bathroom and drew a bath. By now everyone was asleep. I tiptoed around, gathering what I would need. I had many pills, Elavil, Xanax, painkillers the works. I knew that it would be enough because of the Elavil. I knew it is often used in overdoses. I lined the bottles up along the edge of the tub. I placed the razor in my hand. I sat there for about half an hour staring at the bottles. I started thinking of my son. He would be without a mother, but yet he would be better off because he would be in a better home. He would forget me because he is young. That hurt worst of all. He would forget me.

I took almost every single pill. Swallowed them down real good. I got up and laid on the couch again. I was naked, why I didn't put clothes on I don't know. We had a little bit of pot left in a bong and I smoked it. I felt even better then. I didn't remember after that. I don't even remember falling asleep. I awoke kinda and these people were standing over the top of me. I could hear them talking barely. I kept going in and out. Once I heard them ask me a question but I couldn't answer. I couldn't get the energy to talk. Another time I woke up throwing up violently. I couldn't raise my body up enough to avoid getting it all over me. It was black and it was like projectile vomiting. I caught a glimpse of one of my sisters standing there crying. I went out again I guess because I don't remember.

When I woke up again it was a couple days later. I had been in a comatosed state. My throat was severely dry and I wanted a drink so badly. When I went to talk to tell the nurse, I couldn't. I couldn't talk. I had tubes up my mouth and nose. I was on a breathing machine and had a lot of wires attached to me. I kept hearing these little beeps beside me. My arms were strapped down to the bed. What the hell were they doing to me???? They wouldn't let me have anything to drink either.

I slept for a long time. A bunch of doctors came in and talked to me. I convinced them to let me go home without going into a psych hospital. I did not want that at all. I had to lie to them, but I didn't care. Then my medical doctor came in and talked with me. He said that my heart had stopped and they couldn't get it to beat right after. It was too fast or too slow. He said I almost died. Almost. Almost. I was still down, but my feelings had changed so much. All I wanted was to go home and see my little boy. I wanted to be there for him. I wondered if he was missing me. I knew he was old enough to know that something was going on. I did get to home soon after as long as I signed some papers saying I would see a doctor. I did. I went home and gave my baby the biggest hug I had ever given him. He was just about crying because I was hugging him too long. Poor thing. How could I have done this to him? I was doing worse by him than I was done as a child. He needs me to be there for him. No matter what he will need someone to turn to when his life goes bad. I plan on being there for him through it all. I am still seeing a doctor and they want me to see a therapist. I am working towards that. I want to be the best I can be. I still have my days when those feelings come rushing back and I feel overwhelmed. But all I have to do is look over at my son and he warms my heart. He was a gift from God. God would not have given me Kyle if I didn't deserve him. Finally I deserved something. and it was something good not bad. I will be the best mother in the world. ...Because HE deserves that!!!!!!