I was 15 when the thought first crept in my head.

It was something that I couldn't shake. Something that I thought about almost daily.

I was able to ignore it for a while, dismiss it as just another invasive thought that meant nothing, something I would never act on. It became a daily fight between giving into this thought or just carrying on like everything was normal.

It reached a point where it no longer felt optional, I had to kill myself.

According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, suicide is the tenth leading cause of death in America. Each year 42,773 die by suicide and 864,950 attempt. This is an unspoken epidemic shaking the country. Everyone knows at least one person who has either taken their own life, attempted to, or struggled with thoughts of suicide.

And yet it seems like we are unable to talk about it.

I saw suicide as a light at the end of the tunnel, like the cure-all for everything wrong in my life. If I failed an exam the solution was easy I would just kill myself, if I embarrassed myself I would just kill myself and never have to worry about it again, it was so simple to me.

Reflecting back on this time in my life I felt incredibly alone, but I know now that I wasn't ever alone, there were and still are people all around me who have this same kind of train of thought. Suicide, though it shouldn't be an option, was always the easiest option.

So really my suicide attempt at 15 was no surprise to me, I felt like such an incredible failure even though I had only lived 15 years. I knew if I killed myself I would never have to worry about another failed test or embarrassing moment, everything would go away and everything that made me so uncomfortable in my life… well it wouldn’t exist because I wouldn’t exist.

My suicide attempt obviously didn’t result in completion, but after my attempt I told myself that there was no way I would ever make it to 19, that was my official cut off date for myself. I would give myself a year of legal adulthood, I would let myself drive, go to prom, go to college, kiss a few people, and then if I didn’t have my life together, if I wasn’t totally happy with my life... I would end it.

I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately as I reach my 20th year, not about actually killing myself, but more about how I exist right now.

What are the odds? I was the sperm that won the race. The egg that was chosen.

I am a mixture of my mother and my father and their parents and so on. I have my father’s blue eyes and my mother’s defense mechanisms, and every morning when I look in the mirror I see more and more of my grandmother staring back.

I exist and not just by chance, my existence serves some purpose. I am here to love and be loved. How strange that all is. How strange is it that I was chosen by some higher power to be here, right now, in my room, typing this.

If I have learned anything from this it's that there is hope and there is always help, sometimes it takes dragging yourself to the campus counselor even though your brain is screaming at you that you aren't worth it.

Sometimes it takes finding a new therapist.

Suicide often times isn't about wanting to die, it's about wanting all the bad things in your life to just stop. Suicide is a direct consequence of untreated mental illness. As a society we have shamed people who seek mental health help claiming that they are "crazy."

Nothing is wrong with seeking help.

If you or anyone you know is thinking of suicide I encourage you to reach out to these resources and others.

The National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

The Crisis Text Line: Text START to 741-741

There must always be a storm before the sunshine and the rainbow, and trust me it's worth waiting for.