I was 12 years old, I had fought with my mother and went to the bathroom to hang myself. Then at 15 years old, I felt anguish for no reason, I discovered that my cousin mutilated herself and it became our secret, it was a relief for us, today I have deep marks on my arms, which I hid, but nowadays I don't insist on wearing long sleeves, no one really cares, so I shouldn't care what they find.
At 19 I tried again, at that time there was a girl who always came home to visit me, I never reciprocated her feelings, I was in a colossal depression, due to an error at the university that I reported to, I didn't enroll, I was fine low.Finally, recently, upon realizing my sufferings without glory and how much life is empty of meaning, I almost died taking the same medicine that a friend took and died, I took a dose twice as large, I ended up in an unknown hospital and was admitted to the hospital. psychiatry for a month. As I wish I had achieved it, I feel envious of my friend who did it.