Almost everyone I know is aware of that fact that I tried to commit suicide shortly after I graduated high school. My first GF of four years basically came clean about lying to me for the entirety of our relationship, I had take "year off" to try and help my mom but could t find a job and she was on me constantly to find something. I was severely depressed and one night I sat against my bedroom door with my shortsword and started dragging it across my wrist. I stopped when I saw blood, told my mom and we worked it out. What no one knows is that I tried a second time after the birth of my son. I found out very shortly after his birth that his mother had been sleeping with her ex and had plans to leave me. I was destroyed in every conceivable definition of that word. I had made it very clear that I didn't feel we were ready to be parents, both emotionally and financially. Her and her whole family swore support so I caved and did everything I could to prep. It was almost three months after his birth that I found out. I remember because I got hammered and went to the Dark Knight premiere. Next day I took my son and raised him along with my mom and sis's help for a year before she became a regular interval in his life. I would have good days and bad days. People would say "at least you have your son" but what they didn't understand was that I only saw him as my failure to create a "family". Around the six month mark I was sitting in my room after laying him down and started slowly digging my pocket knife into my neck. It went on for about five minutes, with a pretty serious knick that bled for about twenty minutes before I realized what I was doing. My son just had his fourth birthday and I haven't even remotely considered the idea since and have actively worked against suicide with friends and my community.

I also used my hose nozzle gun as an "Independence Day" cannon on an anthill when I was ten. All those poor souls lost to the void...