The last thread is fraying (suicide thoughts)

I don't necessarily want to kill myself, but I want to die. I'm 28, a US Vet, disabled, PTSD, the works. Growing up I had no friends, until I got into high school. I had been bullied by everyone through elementary and middle school, that I either would've killed myself or shot up the school had I not changed high schools. After high school, I enlisted. Combat arms, Cav scout. Once I left for basic, all my "friends" moved on. Moving, college, families if their own... But I had gained a new family of sorts. Brothers I never had... Did 2 deployments to Afghanistan, seen more combat than I could possibly remember. Been shot at, rocketed, mortared, but IEDs, you name it... survived it all, somehow. But after the second deployment, things changed. I began noticing that I was no longer happy. About anything. My mood was all over the place between manic episodes and severe depression, sometimes moods would last 5 minutes, sometimes they would last 5 weeks. I even went to behavioral health at the time, wanting to get better... they just threw pills at me, and suggested I see a therapist. The pills made things better, at first... My lows weren't as low, and my highs weren't as high. After a while, l just felt, nothing. Numb. My "leveled out" mood began to deteriorate again. And the pills even started to make it worse.. made me suicidal. After realizing how horrible I was feeling, I dumped all the pills down the toilet, and refused to take pills ever again. After getting out as an E5, honorable discharge, I went back home to my parents. Left at 18, returned at 24, but completely altered for good. All my high school friends were gone, and I began feeling lonely. Tried a few relationships, to varying degrees of failure. One left me, to go back to an abusive ex; but not before she aborted our child. The next turned out to be a psychotic c***, and took advantage of me. After her, I met my ex fiance, and mother to my son. And for once in years, I was actually happy. Until naturally, everything came crashing down. See, halfway through the pregnancy she started to not feel the love as much. Pregnancy hormones... but she waited until our son was 6 months old before telling me she was unhappy. We lived together, both worked full time, on opposing shifts so we could save on daycare... so we didn't see each other much. Not to mention all the stress of the pregnancy and raising a newborn was taking it's toll on both of us. Eventually it all came to a head, after an accident involving my son. He had gotten a pretty nasty bruise on his face, and my ex decided she wanted to take him to the pediatrician to make sure he was okah, and there were no medical issues that could cause easy bruising or whatever. Naturally, doctor sees a 7 month old with a bruised face, and they call the police. After transferring him to a hospital for more tests, we spent the next 2-3 days there. Well, they did, I went home to feed the pets dinner, sleep, feed them breakfast, and go back to the hospital. But on the third day everything changed. A doctor comes to me and tells me there's a call for me from another doctor in the hospital, who tells me they believe my son was abused. Prompting the police to question my ex and I. Now I knew I had done nothing wrong, and had nothing to hide, so I figured I would cooperate with the police and answer their questions. Why wouldn't I? We were still fiancees at the time. But that was about to change. They questioned her first, then me. Now I know this is the internet and people will believe what they want to believe but I know for a fact I did not abuse my son and would NEVER do such a thing. In fact child abusers, pedophiles, s** offenders, rapists... they all infuriate me. But there I was, being interrogated by 2 police and a Dept of Children and Families agent. They asked if I did it, and I said no. They asked 3 times, and I said no. After the last time I said no, the police got a little aggressive. "Bullshit!" They yelled at me, "I know you know something." I asked them if they "knew what was in my head better than I did." They kept poking and poking at me, and eventually I started to break. 3 days without sleep or food, you aren't fully there. They asked me again if I did it, and I replied "Yes". They asked, "Are you saying that because you think it's what we want to hear?" I said, "Yeah, kinda." But they didn't like that. "Don't say it if you think it's what we want to hear." And the poking and prodding continued. Eventually, I broke. And when they asked if I did it for the 5th or 6th time, I said Yes, and when asked if I'm "just saying that etc", I said "No." Through clenched teeth, short answers. I was p*****, and freaking out, and worrying like h*** about my fiance and son, and the stress broke me. I wanted out of that room more than anything, and to see my son. And they finally got their "confession" out of me, even if I had lied.. They brought my fiance into the room and I told her I said I did it, even though I knew I didnt. But, that didn't matter... All the stress she was under, coupled with being severely unhappy, she decided to leave me. After that DCF had 'forced' her into filing a restraining order against me, on behalf of our son. It was either they push me out, or DCF takes the child completely away, since they would believe his mother did not have his safety in mind. And just like that, in a span of 48 hours, I went from decently happy, living with my fiancee and son, looking forward to marriage and more kids; to single, unable to see my son, and out of the house... Let's just say, things went downhill from there pretty quick. Stress got worse, depression came back in full force... I was emotional, vulnerable, longing for someone to hold me and comfort me... but had no one. No friends. No family. No fiancee. No son... I moved into a s***** apartment that I could barely afford on my own (rent went from 825 split between two people, to 850 by myself.. not including utilities or anything else), and when I say s***** apartment, I mean bed bug infested (covered in bites), horribly slanted floor (one side of the room my hand could touch the ceiling easily, the other side 10 feet away, my hand was short about a half foot.. made sitting in a wheeled computer chair difficult), loud old neoghbors who screamed and had the police called out to them numerous times... A shithole of a place. And I spent the next year in that shithole; languishing. Falling deeper and deeper into depression. Unable to fight my demons... Oh, not to mention I'm facing 2 felony child abuse charges the state is charging me with (my ex, her family, my family, my friends, basically anyone and everyone who knows me, knows I didn't do it) and I'm STILL waiting for a trial, a year and a half later. Restraining order lasting until Feb 2020... About 8 months after that whole shitstorm, I ended up losing my job. Now I had no job, no money, all these expenses for legal s***, and relying on my disability from the service to keep a roof over my head. My eating habits severely dropped, sometimes going 3-4 days between eating, on a pretty consistent basis. I've lost 20lbs as a result, and am nearing underweight... and that pretty much brings me to here. April 2019. Looking up "what happens when you drive into a tree to kill yourself" online, and writing this... I'm on my last thread, and it's fraying. I am nearing desperation, but... I dont want to feel like a burden to anyone. So that's my rant... I don't really want to kill myself, but I don't want to be alive anymore. I just, want to go 90 mph into a tree...

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  • Leave your yesterdays behind you, find three things that make you happy everyday and tell yourself how lucky you r to be alive to experience them, take yourself on a spiritual journey, read anything by Echardt Tolle, find a spiritual community ...the Buddhists are very good

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