Saman,

There is one word you used that qualifies your situation as an emergency; suicide. People tend to take care of their physical problems, but because of the stigma attached to them  by society, people disregard their mental health for fear of being labelled as not normal. The truth of the matter is your mental health is just as important as your physical health, and, I think in some situations such as yours, it is more important than physical health. When I was going in 3rd grade, it was the summer before, my step-dad decided to get rid of “the problem.” That would be me. So he took me to a family on the Dakota reservation called Rosebud. He said I would be spending the weekend with this family. That weekend turned out to be a little over 4 years! Talk about feeling worthless. When he dropped me off I remember him saying that he hopes that I amount to something, but said he had  his doubts. Well “the problem”, me,  went ahead 2 years and graduated high school at 15. It wasn’t until relatively recent, after his death, that I found out that he was not my biological father-I was led to believe all those years he was. When he was in the hospital dying of cancer, I went to see him, still n to knowing he was not my real father. The visit was brief. So I decided to step up and be the man and say, “Well I have to go. I love you dad.” He didn’t say anything. As I was walking out, I turned to him one last time and said, “Ya know this is the last time we will not see each other and you can’t even say I love you to me.” His answer was, “I never did.” My answer was, “I thought you were going to tell me something I didn’t know .” He died that evening.

How about this bit of history. I went to Afghanistan in response to the 9/11 attack on America. I was married with one beautiful daughter. I had 30 minutes to say goodbye. I will never forget the look on my daughters face. I was there for barely over 13 months straight, literally without a break. 13 months of failing to save lives. 13 months of PTSD in the making. Still suffer with PTSD and survivors guilt, although because this is not how I want to be, I did many things to get a hold of those maladies. I wondered why everybody was getting letters on a weekly basis and not me. I got 3 letters the whole time I was there. My time in Afghanistan ended because I got hurt so bad that I could not walk for 9 months. It took a good year before I could walk again. When I left rehab in Germany to go home, I found out why I was not getting much needed letters. It was because my now ex was doing things with her new guy that newly married people do. If that wasn’t enough, I became yet another homeless veteran, even though it was 3 months. Still it was a very degrading thing that happened. What a welcome home. I took a long look at my life and said that this life is my life and this is not how I want my life to be. It mattered not what people said about me or thought about me. What mattered was how I thought about me. I remember while being homeless, I looked at myself in the polished stainless still mirrors in the bathroom at the beach. I stared at my self and told myself, I love you. I gave my self a hug and repeated the I love you several times.

Do not ever let anybody define who you are or what/how you want to be. NEVER EVER do that. I am not saying to you or anybody else that my story is worse than yours, or hers, or his. It was my hell. I tell people that as long as you feed your demons, they will feed you. Own your life my friend. Love yourself. Be the you that you want to be. But please, get some professional help for the suicide thoughts. When I was paralyzed, I’m not going to lie to you. I had a brief thought of offing myself. The initial reason I abandoned this thought was the vision I had of my daughter when I left. She wanted her dad to be strong, not a coward and weak planning a selfish act. Be strong my friend. Love yourself. Please. You are worth it.