And if you go, I wanna go with you. And if you die...

At the end of October I lost a friend to cancer after a two year battle. He was only 31 and was an orphan. He got married a couple of months before he died and so he left his 24 year old wife and his older brother behind.
On 30th December I found out that a friend commited suicide. I don't know the details at all but I know he wasn't married and he was a real good guy. I can empathise with him, feel angry at myself, sad at the world... I know all to well how depression can make you feel and how easy it is to turn in on yourself.
My folks always drummed into me what a selfish thing taking your own life is; but I have to disagree, I think it takes a huge amount of courage. No one wants to purposely hurt themselves do they? and so to go as far as as death takes guts in the bucketload.
I have never experienced a suicide personally before, my parents have and they always told me that you're left with questions. I'm not at all. I am left with understanding...
Now don't get me wrong, there is no way on Mother Nature's sweet earth that I want harm to come to any of my friends but I myself understand when you are that desperate and down and you don't want to bother people again with the shit in your head and nothing you do is going right, nothing you say is understood and people just tell you to 'snap outta it'
I understand, I've been there and walked that path my friends. I have tried and failed, not because I bottled it or whatever you want to call it but my chosen method has failed me.
I may have mentioned before that in 2001, ten years ago, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, I fought against being commited to a secure unit, most of the time from the age of 16 was spent being mad and pretty much homeless and my childhood would drive a saint to madness I swear. But I fucking fought them every step of the way. Looking back it may have been something I should have done.
Daily visits to the Psych team, supervised while taking meds to make sure I had taken them, every med under the sun including Fluoxetine, seroxat, epilum (anti convulsant), venlafaxine, sertraline, chlorpromazine... You get the idea right?... I was under these guys until recently, January 2010, a different doctor every 6 months as it was a teaching hospital, the same bullshit at the beginning talking about my odd childhood and the way my folks treated me, my mum's alcoholism, the men in my family being seriously violent... Quite honestly the treatment by these professionals was enough to drive anyone to trying to kill themselves, never mind the actual run down piece of crap building I had to go to all those years, day in, day out.
They saw I had an art degree and tried to force me to do Art Therapy. I never understood it. How do you draw your emotions and then leave them there on the page?
Therapy groups for survivors of abuse... Couldn't hack it.
Hypnotherapy, actually taught me how to meditate and remove negative thoughts from my mind and for 4 sessions I learnt a lot. This was funded by me however and isn't available on the NHS!
One of the best things I found as well? Talk to a Buddhist monk for an afternoon. I'm lucky to be able to access the Buddhist Temple that George Harrison had a hand in getting built and by accessing this place I am able to access the monks for a different perspective on things.
I am currently on a cocktail of Fluoxetine and Carbamazepine, an anti depressent and a mood stabiliser. When I ration my mood stabiliser due to the inadequacies of my memory to put in a repeat prescription, I can really feel myself getting hyper and manic. With no medication at all though I have the worst withdrawal symptoms, Pain, stomach cramps, sweats, hallucinations, slurred speech... (well more nonsensical ans stuttery than normal)
Most of the time though I am kept a little down, I hide myself away and rarely have contact with the world except for a few very good friends. (I don't read newspapers, watch the news, watch much tv apart from shows involving science or some sitcoms like The Big Bang Theory) I watch a shit load of films and play Xbox a lot, read a ton and try to stay outta trouble. I rarely, if at all answer my phone, no matter who's on the other end and although I do cook for myself daily, I rarely eat too much. I worry about every little thing I say, I am 99% certain (in my head) that I am an annoyance to people and shouldn't contact them, I believe that they roll their eyes and try to avoid me if I do contact people (parents fault, they created these insecurities) I prefer the old school method of contact simply because I myself enjoy getting something in the mail rather than a text or email. I don't like my food to touch and beans must go into a mug not onto a plate. My dog is my best friend and over the course of ten years I have lost quite a few friends as they don't like hanging out with 'someone who could, you know, flip out at any time like they say in the papers/news coverage/internet'... I worry myself sick about people (friends) who are experiencing down time or are depressed as I've been there/am there. If I could make things better for you, no matter what the cost, I would. If I could have helped my friend, no matter what the cost, I would have done anything.

They say Jesus died for somebody's sins

But God knows he didn’t die for mine
Cause I’ll stand accountable for my own damn sins each and every time.