I don't remember how I heard of it for the first time. But I do remember not thinking much of it at first. It was just something I knew existed. Unrelated to me.
It was when I started reading books with characters that struggled with suicide that it came more on my horizon. And I thought they were reasonable. Yeah, if I were being tortured with no escape, I'd want to die too. Or. All their loved ones died, I guess it's normal to want to be with them again.
And then that grew into. Wow, these characters are suffering so much. I'd just kill myself and be done with it. I don't know how they do it!
And by middle school I was in the trenches. I couldn't escape school. I couldn't escape lonliness. I wouldn't be able to escape highschool. Or college. Or working my entire life. I would suffer stress and emptiness and embarassment and shame my entire life. I wasn't a good person. I was shitty, and I didn't want to improve. I just wanted to be and do anything and everything without boundaries, but that's not a reality that exists, and even if it did, I would not be satisfied.
There was not a future I could envision where I would not want to die. Even in my books.