I have a confession to make.
For the last ten years, I have been battling clinical depression. I was diagnosed shortly after my first suicide attempt early in 2009, during my freshman year of high school. I attempted suicide again towards the end of my senior year, in 2012, and had it not been for the efforts of others, I would have succeeded. I wouldn't be able to attend college. I wouldn't be able to write. I wouldn't have been able to post this right now, seven years later. Fortunately, the worst seems to have passed, and I no longer experience these horrible feelings of profound worthlessness that lead to self-destruction. Through a combination of therapy, medication, creative expression, and the generous support of family and friends, I have managed to overcome. Things are looking up now, and I expect to get my first job later this year after I finally receive my associate's degree. There are the occasional downer days, but the good ones substantially outweigh them. I am writing this to tell others that hope always exists, and with enough effort and perseverance, even the most dismal emotional situation can change for the better. I am absolutely willing to talk to anybody on here that needs somebody to talk to, because I have been there.