Stole this from Mike's Journal. I liked it alot....
"And maybe for the first time in the last few months, I acknowledged something properly, something that I knew had been hiding right down in my guts, or at the back of my head, somewhere I could ignore it anyway. And what I owned up to was this: I had wanted to kill myself, not because I hated living, but because I loved it. And the truth of the matter is, I think, that a lot of people who think about killing themselves feel the same way. They love life, but it's all fucked up for them. I was up on that roof because I couldnt find a way back into life, and being shut out of it like that... it just fucking destroys you. So its like an act of despair, not an act of nihilism. Its a mercy killing, not a murder. I dont know why it suddenly got me. And I dont know what difference it made, this sudden flash. It wasnt like i wanted to, you know, grab life in a passionate embrace and vow never to let it go until it let go of me. In a way, its makes things worse, not better. Once you stop pretending that everything's shitty and you cant wait to get out of it, which is the story id been telling myself for a while, then it gets more painful, not less. Telling yourself life is shit is like an anesthetic, and when you stop taking the Advil, then you really can tell how much it hurts, and where, and its not like that kind of pain does anyone a whole lot of good. I never looked at it that way before. I thought this whole thing had been about my failure, but that wasnt it. And at that moment i felt like crying my fucking heart out, really. I felt like crying because I knew she was right, and sometimes the truth gets you like that."