Very few things enrage me. I'm known for cold contempt, acerbic and snide putdowns and calm but brutally incisive observations. There isn't that much that can make me turn red with fury and yell at the top of my lungs. Teenagers who say they want to die can do that to me. They can make me want to shake them and scream until I knock some sense into them. It's an irrational response. I know that the teenage years are a turbulent time emotionally, mentally and physically. I know that the rigidity of the High School Castes can take their tolls on anyone. I know that Clinical Depression is often caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain and there are probably many teenagers who suffer from this. I'm not insensitive or cold-hearted, but teenagers who shout, "I'm going to kill myself" whip me into a livid frenzy all the same.

It's not that my teen years were marvelous and untroubled. I was an intelligent, sullen, ugly boy who was almost universally shunned by my classmates. I hated everyone and figured everyone hated me. From the ages of 12 to 17 I had maybe two people that I could call "friend". It was a miserable time, and I'm glad to be out of it. But I survived it.

I tried, in my own quiet way to kill myself several times over those years. None of the attempts were accompanied by any loud pronouncements or tragic scenes; few were sparked by an particular traumatic event. Most of my attempts were caused by an unbearable fatigue and the idea that death, at least, offered respite and rest. Most failed spectacularly and went almost unnoticed; a few came close to doing their intended work and I still have a scar on my left wrist running along the vein. It was nothing sexy or glamourous. My last attempt occured when I was 18, I had swallowed a bottle of cheap depressants and drank most of a fifth of scotch. By happenstance, a friend of mine came across me. She kept me up all night walking, drinking coffee and forcing me to vomit. She promised not to call the police if I swore never again to try to kill myself. I swore. I haven't.

So why do teenagers who say they want to kill themselves raise my ire? I don't know. Maybe it's because my method of dealing with emotions ensured that my suicide attempts were with as little fuss as neccessary, and people who make grand announcements seem to me, a little phony. Maybe it's because there have been too many times when I've gotten myself emotionally involved on behalf of someone who screams that they want to die, wearing myself out trying to convince them to live, only to find out later, once I'm emotionally exhausted, that what they really wanted was attention or sympathy. Maybe it's because it seems to me that there are very few people who understand what wanting to die really is like; it's not mere heartache.

Or maybe it's because the lack of perspective makes me furious. My teen years were largely punctuated and delineated by trauma; at 12 my father decided I didn't exist, at 14 I was raped and at 17 I was jumped by skinheads. I had no friends and I was so constantly lonely that I am even now surprised to discover that suddenly there are people around me. And yet, when I compare my life to some other people I know, my suicide attempts seem pathetic and foolishly selfish. A friend of mine was beaten and kicked out of the house when he was 15, ended up supporting himself from that time on, and considers himself lucky when he compares his life to another friend of ours who was murdered a few years ago. Another friend of mine has a gypsy grandmother who spent her teenage years in a Concentration Camp in Eastern Europe; and she considers herself lucky when she compares her life to the Jews who were in Auschwitz and Dachau. I think my life was pretty comfortable when I compare it to theirs.

One thing that has always been close to my heart is a quote from Maya Angelou that I will paraphase badly here; "Someone was heartbroken before you, someone was hungry before you, someone was cold before you, someone was hurt before you, someone was beaten before you, someone was raped before you. Someone survived". When I think of that, I remember that my problems really aren't that bad and I'm grateful for what my life has been thus far.

Very, VERY few teenagers have gone through anything that could give them an excuse (or reason) to commit suicide (there are exceptions, rape/abuse being high up on my list). I'll put things in perspective quickly:

I'm 14, nearly fifteen, and my father shot himself in November of 2008. Before I was born, my father was diagnosed with clinical depression, though that was actually due to his crack addiction. My biological parents split up when I was 3, and I bounced between parents for my childhood; from 2-8ish I lived with my mom and visited my dad on the weekends, when I was 8 my dad married a total bitch and I moved in with them until I was 9, when they split up (one of my stranger memories from that time period is waking up the day before my dad and I were going to go to Florida because my dad was sitting on my bed and, looking back, probably masturbating). From there, we moved in with my grandfather for a while until my dad got an apartment at a place overrun with drug addicts and crack dealers. I lived there until 11, and my best friend was a delinquent son of a marijuana addict (side note: the smell of marijuana remains one of my favorite smells) who, at 8, tried to convince me to steal things (I had morals back then so I didn't). Later, my mother met my stepfather and we moved to England. Yes, the country, I basically up and left all my friends behind (I made some way awesomer friends though so oh well). I have been homeschooled these past 3 years, which is great except I seldom talk with other people, so my social skills leave a bit to be desired. Furthermore, my dad shot himself, as I said, and I went back to the US for a week for his funeral, continuing my lie that I actually go to a school (I told my dad that when he was still alive because he didn't like me being homeschooled...) to all my family and the various friends who showed up at his funeral. About a month after I got back to the UK I started having some serious suicidal thoughts, I even wrote up a whole suicide note (it was structured, I'm proud of it!). Then I realized "well, what will I be missing when I'm dead?". I sat for I don't know, 2 hours, in the blistering cold thinking about all my friends and family, how I'd hurt everyone who cares and so on and so forth. I realized EXACTLY how stupid and pitiful my problems were in comparison to so many other people... and I just deleted the notes and went on with my life.

Why is it these teens think they have any right to suicide? They have damn-near perfect lives, even I've suffered more hardships than at least half the 'emo kids' I know. It is completely retarded and killing yourself (or even becoming depressed, retards) because everyone else is doing it is VERY SHEEPLE OF YOU.

Seriously, get a girlfriend or fuckbuddy or something. You can do so much more with your life than throw it away.

(note: most of this was ranting and if I annoyed anyone with it I'm sorry)

Alright, it looks like this was met with more negativity than I thought. I'll say this again: This was almost entirely ranting, and I have no right to suggest anything about any other teenagers; I was merely pointing out that 'fad suicides' and becoming 'depressed' because that's what's cool is completely fucking RETARDED. Those are the people who annoy me, not the kids with genuine problems (I don't even count myself as that). I feel horrible for the people who have real troubles, but, as I was thinking on my way back from the store, if a person kills herself (note: intended as a gender-neutral pronoun, men are equally, if not more, likely to do stupid things as women) because such-and-such doesn't want to go out with them then they'll be forgotten in a few years but if they carry on there's always the chance that A) the person they want to go out with will return their feelings or B) they'll find a better person who really enjoys spending time with them.

To all people considering suicide, even if you're faking it for attention, all I can say is WAIT. Think to yourself "I'll check myself in an hour." or "If I still feel this way in a week..." or "I'll go in a month." Whatever you can do to stall yourself.

I've also heard that you should have someone to talk to but I was fine without one. Maybe I wasn't really suicidal... I don't know, but honestly whatever helps. I don't know the Suicide Hotline or Samaritan numbers because I never used them but a quick web search should turn them up. Or, you could talk to a friend or family member about how you feel, anyone who claims you're just doing it for attention should be reconsidered as a friend...

Really, though, you should really think about why you're suicidal. Over a girl/boy? There are so many more wo/men in the world and I can assure there are at least 3 moderately good-looking people with good personalities that like you in your school or workplace. Anything more serious than that I can't guide you any more because as I said I'm only 14, so call the Suicide Hotline or something.