Excuses…Excuses are the easiest form of forgetting there is a real underlying issue. At first it seems as though it is just sadness, and I went on through life thinking I will get over it. It started when I was 13, still young and naïve, but still realized that something just wasn’t right with the way I felt, and the way I thought about myself as a person. I felt like I was useless, and wouldn’t amount to anything that actually merits any respect. Listening to your parents boast and pray on the successes of your siblings can take a pretty big toll on such a young kids psyche. Knowing well enough that if I don’t become as successful as my siblings you would still be nothing in your parents eyes, and this thought is what made me start cutting myself. No one in my family, nor my friends knew this was happening, I started wearing long sleeves to hide the scars, and when my mom would ask me why I was wearing what I was I would evidently lie and tell her its just what I want to wear. Lying is the best scapegoat to any situation, and to me lying was my bread and butter. All the lies and mistruths I have told to stray the conversation away from me expressing how I actually feel, was my only way to deal with the grief that I am experiencing full throttle now… I find myself waking up some mornings not having a reason to live…I have a wonderful girlfriend, and a family who cares so deeply about me, and what I can say is a great group of friends, but even with all this I still feel so alone. 1..2..3 attempts, and still not a success, although at this very moment a failure to commit suicide is I guess a success in someone’s book. I find now that talking about it is probably the best form of medication, considering my previous “prescription” was any drug I could get my hands on that would numb all the feelings I have, even the good ones. Through all the psychedelics and the opioids, I found a solution…not the right one but it still was one for some time…it wasn’t until I detoxed for 2 weeks and realized that this was not, nor has ever actually been, a way to deal with the depression, all it did was bottle up the feelings until that bottle eventually popped and I found myself inches from a train ready to take that last leap. At this moment in my life I owe it all to my brother and my girlfriend, because without them I wouldn’t be writing this post for all of you to read. I beg of you, the reader, if you’re experiencing any of these feelings, or have been experiencing these feelings for a long time please go and talk to a professional, a family member, a friend, even your neighborhood hobo, just talk to anyone because talking about what is going on is the only way to get better, take it from someone who knows.