I started having suicidal thoughts at 13, and became obsessed with death for years. I hated myself, and used self harm to punish myself for being alive. My mother's love kept me here because I knew my death would break her. Living for someone else for years had me just going through the motions, with no real joy. It wasn't until I realized that I had to take control of my life and learn to live with myself if I was to ever stop my downward spiral, that my depression eased. I was about 18 years old. A big part of that was accepting my own religious beliefs and my sexual identity, even if they weren't what my family wanted. I am 26 years old, I still have depression, but I only get suicidal thoughts when I'm stressed. I can say that I sometimes love myself, and this has been the happiest year of my life. I live for myself, and I no longer hide who I am.