My mother died when I was 11, and I had a pretty strained relationship with my father and other remaining family members. I withdrew into myself and played it off at all therapy conferences. I fell into a bad group of friends, including a girl that manipulated me for my money and ended up cheating on me and bragging about it to my face. I rebounded to another girl also within the group of friends, and between her and her best friend (girl #1), they managed to pry away any other friend I had in my life.
I didn't really see it, to be honest. I thought I had found my own "squad" that I would never have to leave. Then girl #2 had problems at home and began to take them out on me. These two girls were pretty much my only friends (I know, making up with girl #1 was fucking stupid, but I had no one else and girl #2 was still friends with her). Other people came and go, but I was always just that quiet guy with a dead mom who never talked about his feelings.
It got pretty bad. Girl #2 did a lot of cruel shit in our relationship. She took a lot of money from me, although I forgave her, tore everyone away from me, and then tried to "leave me for space" and other shit. Which would mean I would be alone, so I always begged her to take me back. (I was like 15-16 at the time and very, very stupid.)
We became long distance when they went off to college (they were both two years older than me), and I began to reach out for friends within my school. I went to a fairly small high school, so it was hard to break into any established circles of friends in late junior year, but we were going through another "break-up" and I was miserable. To top all of that off, my grandma (the only other adult I loved in my life) fell into a coma and was probably going to die.
At that point, I had drafts of my suicide notes. I was googling all sorts of drug interactions and easiest ways to go. But, I guess you can say I understood my predicament. I knew I wasn't hopeless. I had a family that I had pushed away, but I knew they still cared. I just had a bad group of people I actually cared about.
So, I found a new group of friends eventually. By the end of the following summer (the best summer of my entire life), I had found an amazing girl who actually gave a shit about what I said and did. I fell for her pretty hard, so I broke up with girl #2. She was a mess, but I was at the point where I was beyond caring. She had done enough, and she had even tried to pull the new girl away from me, but it didn't work.
It's still tough to talk about my feelings with people. Im a generally outgoing and energetic person, so it always catches people off guard when I talk about how I was likely suffering from depression for several years (I'm no doctor, so I'm not gonna diagnose myself). But, I'm still with the new girl and she still listens. Overall, my life is the best it's been since I had to sit through my mom's funeral. Sometimes I relapse a little bit, but I'm nowhere near suicide anymore.
I guess my advice to anyone going through something similar is that there are more people in the world than you think. And things will eventually get better. You are only alone if you let yourself be alone. Never take your own life. You're only given one, and there's no reason to throw it away when there's so, so much left.