The most important thing to remember, is that there is NO circumstance, ever, anywhere, for whatever reason, that deserves the punishment of death. I don't believe there is a single person on this entire site that should even consider suicide, for a split second.
Suicide is a very permanent solution, for what oftentimes is just a temporary problem. Death is forever, and I really doubt there are many, if any, problems that will last that long.

If pain makes you forget about it, that's really alright, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. It's ingrained in man to need to inflict pain to feel better. It's why there is war, and hierarchy, and pride, and selfishness. But always be aware of what will happen once you DO inflict that pain. Maybe even consider getting into a hobby that causes enough energy exertion to release that pressure. Like boxing, or football, or hockey.

If I sound like those same old people that tell you "You're doing it wrong", I really do apologize. And I'm sorry if this ends up getting lengthy. I just really really felt the urge to talk to you all, as a group. To explain what is out there to those that haven't lived as much yet, and to refresh the memories of those that have.

I'm only 19, and I know some of you are already thinking skeptically. But please, try and look at this thread with an open mind. I've seen, done, said, and lived through a lot, in a very short amount of time, and I spend my ENTIRE life trying to make it better for people who are in situations I have been in. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be trying to live. I don't feel I have a reason to, so I know I can sympathize with you guys. Most of you at least.

I guess it might help some of you, if I shared my own past, right?

My early childhood wasn't great by any standards. My first year of life was spent with my mom and dad, living in the bed of a pick-up truck. After that, we spent the next 2 years living in a small camper/trailer, with my mom picking up waitressing when I was 3, and my dad continuing his truck-driving jobs. When I turned 4, we moved from California, down to Phoenix Arizona, where we stayed with my maternal grandparents for a few months, and finally got a one bedroom apartment.
 
 When I was 9 [My sister was 4] my second sister was born, by yet another man. But my paternal grandfather died, and my dad prepared me to move across the country, to Kentucky, for the funeral. My mom, sister, and my sister's dad followed us, and we mass moved to Kentucky.

After a few years, life leveled out for the most part, and we all kind of went our own ways. My youngest sister never found out who her dad was until she was 4, which also happened to be when he found out he HAD a daughter. Around this time, my mom, sisters, and I had been homeless for about a year and a half, and needed the child support money.

Life finally started looking up around the time I was 12, but then a year later my dad got married to a gold-digger, who treated me like a red-headed step child. She ended up divorcing him 4 years later, and leaving him with absolutely nothing.

A year after that [around 2005], my maternal grandmother and grandfather were murdered in their OWN home, by a "Family friend". This created a huge uproar in my maternal family, and my mom moved me and my sisters to Washington State, to stay with her older sister.

Before we could leave, however, we had a ton of affairs to settle at home. Not even a month before our departure date, my best friend was found in his bedroom closet, hanging from the bar with his pant-strap. I felt completely abandoned, and did my best to hold everyone up. I couldn't be weak when so many people needed me, so the only time I cried was when I touched his cold, dead face at the visitation. It was so hard to believe that cold face was the once bubbly ray of sunshine in my life.

Finally, the date arrived for our move to Washington State.
This was supposed to only be for a few weeks, to settle the affairs of my late grandparents. While there, however, I was made to take care of the entire family, even if I was sick. I waited on them hand and foot, I wasn't allowed food until every chore was done, and I was only allowed to shower once a week.
After about 3 months, my mom had to move back to Kentucky for a month, to settle custody issues with my middle sister, so I was left alone with my aunt and her family. After a month of enduring abuse [in varying degrees], I felt the need to leave. I wanted out, I wanted to escape the prison I was stuck in. I walked out to the trailer I was staying in, and breathed in the cold air. I looked at the moon, and stars, and begged forgiveness. Then I sat down on the bed, and hit my hand as hard against my head as I could. [This paragraph has been edited for content]
All I could think about was how my best, and only friend had left me. How my mother had left me. How my father didn't care to call me. How my "Family" could only abuse me..... Until the unthinkable was there.
In front of my face was this huge shining orb of pink light. I don't care if people think I'm crazy, it was there, clear as day. It was my Joshy. My friend, that hung himself. That little ray of light was there, shining with me.
I couldn't feel alone anymore. He was there the whole time, watching me, trying to help me. I hid my cut until it healed, careful to never tell anyone what happened. Other than this paragraph here, only 3 people know about that. 3 people I trusted, and loved.

Finally, we were able to come home to Kentucky. My first night home, the boy I'd fallen for called. He welcomed me home, and we talked for hours, at the end of which, we told each other our feelings. I couldn't even begin to tell you how much that boy meant to me. It would be utterly impossible, unless you could have seen us when we were around each other, even as just friends. When I left, I was empty. When I left, he didn't care about friends, family, or schoolwork anymore. So to know he felt the same as me, I was astounded.

One month later, it was the Day of Silence. The day most of us looked forward to, because it was our turn to remember, and honor, Josh. Our friend who left us too soon. I was on the bus, happily silent, never prouder. To my right, a red car drove up beside the bus, on the way to school. In it were 4 of my friends, one of which was quite possibly as excited as me to be quiet that whole day. He smiled the biggest smile I'd ever seen him smile, and I did the same. We signed Peace to each other [also known as the victory sign] and the car he was a mere passenger in sped up to pass the bus.
In a matter of seconds, the imPOSSIBLE happened. In slow motion I can see it now. The back tire exploded. Rubber.. dust.. everywhere. The bus slowed down. The kids jerked forward. The red car was in front. The red car was fish-tailing. The red car spun in huge circles, picking up speed. The red car was sling-shot across 3 lanes, narrowly missing a semi. The red car exploded against the hill. The red car disappeared from sight as the semi passed the bus. The driver got out. The passenger got out. No one else left. Where was my friend? Where was his smile?
The next day, I was to go see him in the hospital. Collapsed lung, broken collarbone, broken spine, broken jaw, so much broken...
2 hours before I was to leave, the PA at school came on.
He was gone.
Another friend, another life, another light, completely extinguished.
And for what?

Everyone in my class watched silently as I stood up from my desk. Curtly told my teacher I was leaving, and walked out. No one stopped me. No one said a word.
They all knew what I was feeling.

It was harder to walk into the grief room that time, than for my last friend, and I was closer to the first friend. Because in a matter of months, we had all lost 2 balls of amazing light.

My friend Hannah was there. She hugged me. She was so beautiful, even crying. We talked, hugged, laughed with people. Remembering this wonderful face.

We kept working on the Memorial Garden we had all started to memorialize Josh. A film crew came from California, just to film Hannah and I, as we talked about how we coped with our grief for not one, but two friends. What it was like to be labeled as the "outcasts" of society.

One month later, she was killed in a car accident. Driving friends home from school, she was killed.

I'll never forget how I found out. Hearing "Hannah died" was astounding. I refused to believe it was her. I went to that boys house, the one I mentioned before? I broke. I couldn't take the pain anymore. Too many people, too little time. I felt like I was some sort of curse, that was destined to kill the people I loved.

-------------------------------------------

So now, I'm here, trying to help you guys. Every Saturday, I go to that garden. I see what it's become. I hug my friends, who have shared in what I've been through. I hug Jesse's mom every chance I get, because I know my time with her could be short. She thinks about death every day, but she's afraid doing so would rid her of any chance she has of seeing her son again, if there is a heaven.

I'm not afraid to admit I'm weak anymore. It's because of that, I am strong.

I understand now, that life is VERY short. You can't afford to hold on to regret, and grudges. Every choice you make can't be regrettable. Because in the moment you made that decision, it was what made you happy. And happiness shouldn't be regretted.

DO Something with your pain. I understand better than a lot of people that it is very real, no matter how trivial the problem. I know it's there, I know you feel it, and I know now that you can live with it, and still find happiness in life. Even if you don't want to live anymore.

That boy? He refuses to talk to me now. But when I found out he was unhappy, I told him to ask out my best friend. I thought she would make him happy, and a smile on his face is all I wanted, all I cared about. It's still in my dreams. They've been together for over a year now, and I can't hate her, even though I should, for taking him away from me....
Because he is happy.

That garden? It's there, it's amazing, and it's inspired people.
People come up to me nearly every day, and say Hey, I remember you!!
Or they tell me I've inspired them, or helped them somehow.
Those little things, those words, smiles, and hugs from perfect strangers...
Are why I live.

If any of you have any reason to hurt, please understand it's really only temporary. No, time does NOT heal the pain. That pain will NEVER go away, it was always be there, always haunting you. I won't sugar-coat the truth. But you can find happiness WITH that pain. Use it as your strength. Remember that you made it through that pain for one day, two days, three days, count if you must.

But remember, that you're doing it. And I promise you will be happier.