I've battled depression all my life and but was diagnosed with manic depression, Bipolar 1, OCD, and ADHD when I was a teenager. After my some of my family and most of my "friends" find out about my diagnosis, they immediately assumed I was too nuts to be around which really hurt. You know, I never asked to be born with my mental illnesses but I try to accept the cards I was dealt. It's like a poker game where you can let it ride and keep going or fold. I'm just about ready to fold and give up. I always put on a happy face so people that don't know me very well don't know that I'm actually hurting deep inside. I was at a bridge and as I sat on the rail considering jumping off, somehow I thought about my mom and how it would affect her if I went through with it. After awhile of pondering life and death, I decided to give life one more chance, got off the rail, and drove home crying all the way. I've had people tell me things would get better and that my soul would be at peace if I ended it but the very few people in my life told me that suicide is not a solution and all it would do is hurt those that love me. I'm at a loss at what to do. I have an appointment with my psychologist to discuss what's going on which I've been told that's a step forward in progressing. Some days I regret not jumping off the bridge and other days I think it's a good thing that I decided to give life another chance. But who cares? Nobody. Hopefully I'll go to sleep and never wake up so I don't have to end it myself.