Things are getting better?

Ok. So, I guess I'm one of those manic/depressant a-holes. I don't have the money to get all that tested nor (being in healthcare) believe that doctors know everything. Yes, they can help. But, as previously stated, I'm broke as a joke, my mang. I don't even know why I'm typing all this crap up. 33 years on this planet and I have yet to find anyone that would really miss me when I'm gone. Or that's how it feels. You know what I mean. I've seen a lot of "suicides" come through the hospital. The only 2 that I never judged was: the patient who succeeded and the one who was surprised when they woke up. That's a scary thing to hear someone say. These other bastards, my kindred spirits, as I will call them, were only in it for the show. I'm a piece of shit so you can hate me and be angry and judge me all you want for this next part. I've been a fuck-up for so long that it doesn't bother me much anymore. But these assholes, they come in, unresponsive, poor vitals, get the works done, gastric lavage, charcoal, whatever. And then they wake up, take one look at you and smile. "Thank God. They're awake and smiling!" you might be thinking but oh no my ignorant (proper, look it up if you don't catch my drift) these retched little shits smile and say "Ok, can I leave now?" 
I've been holding crap like that in for a long time. I believe in God and believe that I will be judged as harshly as I judge others. For those of you who don't like that. . . oh yeah, I don't care. I'm trying deal with my fucked up soul and if you have a problem with that, then change the channel, stop reading, quick letting my little story get the best of you. I need at least one place on this damn planet where I can vent. 33 years. K? Not days, minutes or months, years. And now I'm getting my crap out. Double shot espresso, 2 large bran muffins cuz I have serious load to move hahaha. 
I rant. I digress. Today was good. I saw a post from another member about feeling suicidal, DoooOver or something like that. I wasn't suicidal in the beginning. I just wanted attention. Things were bad before even that point. I learned that this word "suicide" came with a bunch of attention. So, I liked it. Then, time went on and those lonely, abandoned thoughts and feeling became real. A self-fulfilling prophecy, if you will. I fought through it. I used to cut myself up. Moved on to drugs. Moved on to alcohol (we're still good friends at this point:) And now I just try to do what makes me happy. That's why I got in to healthcare. The church couldn't handle me, I told you already; bonafide fuck-up. And I actually have a brain. And church people hate it when you have a brain. And an attitude to boot. I'm all kinds of screwed up. What ya gonna do? Actually taking care of people helped me forget about myself. Gave me some purpose, some hope. And today was just a good day in class. Even with the people who don't like me. I didn't care. Although, the 2 black girls who got me in trouble for being on Ebay during the lecture definitely irked me. Doesn't matter. It was still good. So, if you're reading this DooooOver (or however the hell it's spelled), you certainly aren't alone. That shit doesn't go away. I'm not sure it ever will. But we fight for the good days. Few and far between as they may be. 
Sorry if I upset anyone. I love you dad. G'night.