Many, many times. I came very close to doing it three times since November. I'll be honest, I don't know WHAT stopped me. Maybe because I've been daydreaming so long about things getting better, meeting people who actually like me, bumping into a beautiful girl and falling in love, stuff like that, that it's become near impossible to let false hopes go. But, mostly just being afraid. I know there's nothing on the other side, but what IS nothing? Ending my entire existence. That's a concept so alien to me, so scary. And even if there is an afterlife... the, I guess what you'd call "spiritual" things I've experienced that have been more than just self-delusion... let's just say I'm not going any place good. Also, lack of means. All I had was a knife. I hate the idea of dying so painfully and horribly. And partly knowing that it would ruin my mother's life, and really hurt the only good friend I have left, who might never even find out I died because she lives halfway across the world. So I just ended up spending hours (4 or 5) in bed crying, listening to music on my phone.