When I was 20...I tried to commit suicide. It was exactly 3 months before my 21st birthday. I should have been excited to turn 21. But...I wasn't. My life was an absolute wreck. I was taking a full load of classes. I was trying joining a sorority, which presented its own set of drama and mayhem, and on top of that, I had a boyfriend who was a master manipulator. I wouldn't say he was "abusive" in that sense of the word...but what I will say was nothing I did was ever good enough, I never spent enough time with him, and I never seemed to please him I hated being where I was in life. I played the same CD's over and over. I read too much Sylvia Plath. My weight, a constant struggle, went up and down because of binge eating or not eating at all. My mother and I, despite our good relationship, were fighting much more often because I could not stand what I was seeing at home between her and my Father. And although she was right, I chose to ignore her advice. I felt I...