I'm turning 23 in October, arguably a difficult child. I found this forum by ccident but I've read a good half of the entirety of this section of the forum and its history. I just failed in killing myself last week and though I'm not a parent, I was hoping to maybe get something out of this or just rant... kind of like an alcoholic going to AlAnon (the support for alcoholics' loved ones), I'm hoping I can get away with posting here and getting some perspective. Got psychiatric-hospitalized a couple years ago. It didn't go well, and I responded horribly to medications. I'd been in college and doing well for 2.5 years prior to that and have been back on and off for a couple semesters. I had smoked weed on and off for those 2.5 years and maintained great grades and had a lot of potential, but towards the end of those 2.5 years I got into K2 and was unable to sleep when I got rid of it to try to kick the habbit (the delirium of sleep deprivation landed me in the psychiatric hospital, but it did way more harm than good and I responded horribly to medication; I was also non-phsyically sexually assaulted by a homeless man while in there, as well as scared for my physical safety and incredibly spooked that they were obviously doing assisted suicides, which outside 2 psychiatrists confirmed does happen but it's rare). I've been seeing a really good psychiatrist (if that's not an oxymoron) ever since, mainly for ADD but also for supposed bipolar. Things got to the point where we all would expect medication to solve all the problems, but that wasn't the case and none of it actually helped save for Adderall. It's outstanding for focus but made me very volatile and moody and I'm not sure if it's something I'm intersted in continuing. I've now been in college for 4 years but have missed 2 of the last 4 semesters (and gone the last 2 summers). My parents paid for an empty apartment those 2 semesters I missed, not to mention that tuition only got partially refunded. In order to not have the issue of the apartment as another loss risk, it was decided I would be staying in a hotel with my dad about two hours from my parents house. Each two weeks of this is 1.5-2 months worth of apartment rent, for perspectice, plus my parents being away from eachother and my dad having to completely give up his life. We were going to have 2 cars for convenience sake, but I got back with an old playmate around an old playground and ended up smoking weed, which they found. So then we decided to do one car and I would report to my dad. I relapsed on K2 the first week and told parents and psychiatrist that I wanted to go to rehab to get out of the situation this semester, but only half of me thinks that's the case and the other half just thinks that I didn't know what to say or how to explain it. They were going to pay for rehab and wanted to earlier this year but now drug treatment is off the table. I really needed it too, the worse and longer things went on. The hotel was supposed to be just for the first couple weeks, and my ex roommate (who doesn't use drugs) from out of state ended up getting screwed over by this too and is now across the country doing online classes. Things became a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy for me that this is never going to be over, why bother, yada yada pity party pity party. Every time I thought it would be over it wasn't, plus me feeling like **** that I used K2 again last winter and went kind of crazy (but much of that was also when I got cut off of two medications you're supposed to slowly wean off of and then put on one that I react horribly to, but between that and the variance of what K2 can be there are too many variables to say). There are other things too, such as that my parents were going to forgive my student loans if I stuck in classes, took my "bipolar" drugs (aka lithium), and didn't do drugs, but now that's gone. I quit turning things in in a couple weeks ago. Similar to with rehab above, half of me thinks that I'm just a defeatist rationalizing that but the other half of me considers dooming myself to zeros intentionally to help me go through with suicide last week (I used to care about my grades a lot). Anyway... Last Wednesday, I took almost every sleeping pill I had in my possession (mostly trazodone) along with a small amount of alcohol purchased off campus. Then the worst part: Last Thursday, I woke up. So now this has all been a monumental waste of my parents time and money, and I'm still around. My parents just had me show them my grades (high F avg. in one, zeros across the board in the other 2). I lied and said they must have not put them in yet, but they certainly at least suspect that lie. Now, we're about a month into the semester and I have zeros in 2 of my 3 classes and am failing the other one. My parents made it clear in no uncertain terms that if I drop any classes or get less than passing marks in any one, college is over. Period. So, now I'm even more frantic and serious about dying. I tested if an upstairs bannister could hold my weight earlier (it could) and every overpass I saw on the way home made me wonder if it was high enough to be fatal. And it's also not like I'm just ungrateful and lazy, but otherwise good. Though I'm not showing it or living it, I'm extremely grateful to my parents for everything (and though this end part sucked, I had a good life), but I'm by no means a good kid (though I was): I've been pretty abusive to them the last year, ever since I didn't return to spring college. Yelled, sworn, smoked legal weed subsitutes/drank in the house. They even took me on vacations to cheer me up. On the day after my 22nd birthday, I furiously yelled "Where was my surprise?!" at my dad after getting to visit some friends at college and hearing about how great their surpise 21sts were while I spent mine at a bar where I knew no one with my cousin drinking an O'Doules and still physically unable to smile right due to being on so many medications. God. Deep down, I do hate them for not getting me out of that hospital. I literally couldn't walk right they had me on so many drugs when I got out of there. I didn't even really have a drug or alcohol problem before that... I tried to get rehab as a way to get out earlier (you would too if people were being tackled around you, the staff were mean, and an old man kept pulling his pants down, wagging his **** at you and saying "69 + 2 = 100%"), but I could only fill up the space of about 3 minutes with my entire drug history to my mom. The worst part is I ended up telling them I did need to be there so they would feel less bad about it, but of course that doomed me to being stuck on a bunch of medications I didn't need and then coming to think that pills could just solve all my problems. Nope. Apparently even a bottle full of pills couldn't solve my problems. So, my college career is already over. I've basically made it mathematically impossible to pass 2 of my classes and it'd be hard for the other one. Tomorrow's the last day to drop classes without a grade. My mom made a comment that it'd be stupid to end up with F's instead of W's on my transcript, but then again dropping isn't an option--f***ed if I do, f***cked if I don't drop. I've seen a few comments on these forums about parents wishing they'd had an abortion and I can understand why now, but that doesn't change things. I cant even pay them back for college... no savings. I looked into life insurance but you have to have the policy for 1-2 years before they'll pay out for suicide so that's a no-go. Honestly, things are just worse and worse. I'm trying to imagine any way life would be worth living and I'm just not seeing it. There's a plethora of memories of me making my mom cry and being a **** to my dad to help give me the nudge, and while a part of me still wants a nice, normal life, it feels like I'm past the point of no return especially since college is out. I shredded my suicide note from last week when I was home over the weekend but don't know if I should bother as it'd just cause more hurt. I had a pretty coherent idea of where I was going with all this as well as a couple specific, possibly hopeful questions that I wanted to get opinions on some parents who have to deal with creatures like myself, but with adderall worn off, the hour getting late, and emotional exhaustion setting in they escape me right now. Two bad things don't make a good thing, but one less bad thing is still less of bad things. I'm afraid of only getting responses along the lines of "you messed it up, you have to live with it," but I really don't have to and I'm more and more aware how much I messed everything up and it makes me hate myself more, but I look forward to seeing if anyone has something they can say. The worst part is the surprise they gave me... I should have been excited but I was high or on lithium (read: you don't feel/experience life) or something else. That was the last exciting surprise I'll ever get and I ****ed that up.