Let me pre-face this rant with a strong advisory. This is going to be about suicide, sexual assault, and abuse. so please, if you can't handle open talk of the subjects don't force yourself to read any further. The last thing I want to do is hurt anyone else. My best friend committed suicide Tuesday, October 11th, 2016. Fifteen minutes before this we had talked on the phone, I asked her about the move to her new Apartment across the country. She seemed happy. I would have never guessed that she had been finished with this life. I went to sleep that night full intending to call her the next morning as I had been doing for so many years, we were incredibly close. I want to open this thread by talking about me and how I got to the position I am in now. No-Holds-Barred. I'm 24, most people look at me expecting this happy-go-lucky kid in the prime years of his life. Sure, I flash that fake smile because it's easy to look happy. I can strike a conversation and pretend to be the happiest fucker on the face of the earth. Am? No. Not in the slightest. From birth I have been programmed to hate myself and hate everything I do. I breathe, and I feel regret. Why am I like this? My mother was an abusive bitch. Up until I was eight years old she would hold me down, strangle me, feed me rotten food just to watch the expression on my face. She'd scream and berate me for not being perfect. "You worthless peice of shit!" she'd yell so often, as a 5-8 year old you don't understand that kind of talk but it fucking sticks. She got sick of having an obligation and took off when I was 8, but not before slapping me around and making damned sure I knew how worthless I was. You'd think a 50/50 shot on parents would mean my father would be there to help right? Guess again. Hard drugs came into his life, and those aggressions he felt towards my mother focused themselves on me. He wasn't physical like Momma was, but boy did his words cut deeper than hers. He knew my insecurities and knew how to build me up just to tear me right down. I tried to get away from it all by visiting my Uncle and Aunt in Texas. I had two cousins, J and and H we will call them. J was male and H was female. H and I were super close, the only friend I really had, but she decided to go on a Church thing and went to Ecuador that summer. J and I, not so close but we could bond right? Right. Trigger Warning Sexual Assault (Move your mouse to reveal the content) Trigger Warning Sexual Assault (open) Trigger Warning Sexual Assault (close) My Aunt and Uncle left town for the weekend, the weekend where I became a very broken shell of the person I was meant to be. My cousin drugged me, drug me into his room and proceeded to have his way with me. What could I do? I was 8 and he was 18. I was a quarter his size and certainly not strong enough to say anything. He threatened to kill me, bury my body out back if I ever told anyone. That summer pushed me to the edge, every weekend becoming a routine of forced propositions. When I returned home I made my mind up. I was ready to go, and so I attempted suicide for the first time. Being the chickenshit I was, I just couldn't go through with it. Nope, I was destined to live this shit life. That's when I met the most important person in my life. She had transferred to school and was placed in my class. We were destined to be friends, hell it took all of five minutes before we had glued together like peas in a pod. She literally saved my life by being the one person I could by myself around. I loved her to death and she did the same for me. Let's fast forward to High School. My best friend, we'll call her E, and I had been friends for about seven years at this point and we were inseparable. Halfway through our freshman year, she suddenly disappeared for a couple weeks. Come to find out she tried to kill herself and had been admitted into the Psych Ward at St Mary's. I was heartbroken. I didn't even know she had been struggling. It had been around this time I moved out of my Father's house and emancipated myself and started living with my Grandmother. When E finally made it home, I was waiting with flower and chocolates. I wouldn't let her leave my sight, not until I figured out what had happened. So she opened up to me, I won't expose her issues because it's not my place to tell other people's darkest secrets but we had similar pasts. I persuaded my Grandmother to let her live with us until her Father pissed off. So, everything went back to normal. Fast forward again. I meet my now-ex and I'm forced to distance myself from E. We talked once in awhile but three years of distance kills almost anything. She moved a couple months ago to pursue a modeling career. After my ex and I split I tried to reconnect with her. Every day I apologized and made sure she had been the first person I messaged every morning and evening. I will never not blame myself for what happened. I know it isn't my fault. But a part of me can't shake the guilt. The wound is just now opening and I've tried my best to be 'happy' and not break down entirely, writing this makes it real for me, makes me force myself to face the issues I've been faced with the last 30 days. So why post this? If for nothing else, to prevent anyone else from making a decision like E did. It ruins lives. Please, if you take anything from this expression of sadness, remember this. IT GETS BETTER. You are never, ever alone. No matter what you've faced in life, those trials and tribulations are what make you a human. Take if from someone who has been at the end of a rope, literally, it gets better and suicide is a Permanent Solution to a Temporary Problem. Talk to someone. Opening up could be the very thing that saves your life.