Attempted once, a decade ago. Life was shit then and is still is, for the same reasons. Don't remember what I was feeling right before, but I know I lost consciousness very quickly as the noose tightened around my neck. After some very unpleasant dreams or visions, I woke up on the floor and coughed up a huge hunk of spit and snot, my neck was sore and I had pissed myself. Crawling onto my bed I panted, terrified that I might have gotten brain damage from asphyxiation, so I wiggled my toes and fingers, frantically recalling my address and social security number, and those of my parents. Called in sick a few days because my entire face was bloodshot. Went back to school as if nothing happened. I wish I had died then, because I have not managed to improve my life in the way I'd like since, and because of the experience I had between hanging and waking, I am now afraid to shoot myself despite owning several firearms. Maybe I did die and this is Hell.