I tried suicide when I was 17. Was nothing to do with church (hadn't even heard of the pentes then) but the evil stepmother and dysfunctional father thing. Home wasn't a home, it was a pressure cooker. After months and months of this I just couldn't take it any more, and felt that that was the only way out. Looking back I think it would have made a big difference if there was just somewhere I could go for a while to escape, to talk to, or just to be there with someone who understood and wasn't going to judge me. It'd have given me the space I needed to reduce the pressure. At that age it's very hard to see over the horizon if things have been going bad for a long time. It was like I just gave up because it was all too much, and could just not see any way at all out.
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Just be a very good friend to her for right now.