I tried to kill myself once. I usually don't like talking about it, but hey, it's the internet.
Basically, when I was 15 I was going fucking mental, I was being bullied to hell, getting no sleep at all for days on end, and generally my mental state was precarious. Nothing seemed real. One day, it all became just too much, I hastily scrawled a suicide note and went down to a shed near my house with some rope from my garage. I tied the rope tight, stood on a box, and jumped, but the rafters I attached the rope to must have been rotted or something, because they just broke. It still hurt like fuck, but I wasn't dead. I didn't feel anything either way, it was all just numb. I went into school the next day and tried to kill the person who bullied me by stabbing them. Didn't work, and I'm glad it didn't. That's the shortest summary I can do.
Don't worry, I'm perfectly fine now, excepting just normal weirdness. I haven't had any suicidal thoughts since, or at least any actually genuine ones.
Ironically enough, do you know what it was that saved me? Drugs. A lot of people say that you shouldn't use drugs as a crutch for your problems, but I swear, if I didn't take drugs (in moderation of course), I'd be dead right now.
A good thing to remember, when you're happy, things are always going to get worse at some point, but when you're depressed, things will always get better. Life is very balanced. All you have to do is always look forward to the good things.