I’m 21 now and I haven’t attempted suicide for five years. The first time was when I was six. I know you’re thinking ” WTF! Six! 6! wtf does a six year old have to be depressed about?”. Believe me, A LOT. I grew up in a home full of violence, drug abuse and rape. I had no escape even going to school in first or second grade. I was different and I knew that. The other kids knew as well and spared no mercy with their taunts. I was six and a half years old when I tried to kill myself for the fist time. That night my mother just picked me up from the baby sitters house.( I would like to note that my baby sitter was a secret violent alcoholic and her husband had an unnatural liking for children.)We got home and my brother and a group of his friends trashed the house, again. My mother was pissed and found them downstairs smoking pot. again. And they got into a fight,again. I was tired of this cycle and I had enough. I snuck outside unnoticed walked to the busy end of the street and lied down. It was late and there weren't many cars but I didn’t have to wait long. I saw the truck for only a split second before it rushed over me. Missing me completely. I lay there for awhile hoping for another car to come, but it never happened. I got up and walked home. When I got home my mother and brother were still fighting. I looked at the clock and saw that a few hours had passed.I was gone and they didn’t even notice. I’ve tried to kill my self many times after that. When I was twelve I tried to OD on sleeping pills.The violence at home and at school escalated when I was fourteen. Three different times I attempted suicide then. Drowning, overdose and a bullet through the head. all failures. Seriously! I tried to shoot my self in the head and the gun jammed up. When I was sixteen I was sent to the emergency room because I slit my wrist.I couldn't handle it anymore. I had no friends. I was being beaten up at school. A man that I considered a father walk out of my life.My mother worked seventy hours a week so when I came home from school I was left with my gaping butt hole of a violent brother. When my mother found out about my suicide attempt she was hysterical. In fact she was so hysterical the nurses at the hospital had to sedate her.I knew she would react badly, but knowing something and actually seeing it happen are two different things. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I put her through that. I never told her the exact reason I did it. Nor did I ever tell her, nor will I ever tell her that this was not the fist time I tried this. I have promised her that I would never attempt this again. I intend to keep that promise because I never want to see her like that again.