I'm not sure if this is even the right place to post this. I know this is long, I just need someone to talk to and didn't know where else to go. If you are not in a good place, please don't continue reading, it may be triggering.

I have never been diagnosed with depression or any other mental illness. A brief background, When I was younger I went through a tough time where I was cutting myself and didn't think I had a reason to live. I never actually tried to kill myself, but I played around with the idea in my head. I engaged in some risky behaviors, but I think that was all just a part of growing up. When I was around 25, I really decided to get my life together, I lost a lot of weight, stopped drinking, smoking, cutting, etc. I became very involved in my nieces lives and truely enjoyed living. About a year and a half ago, maybe 2 years, I started losing interest in things that used to make me happy. I kept pretending to be happy, and even lied to myself thinking it would go away. Most of 2013 I kept pretending, until everything started falling apart in January of this year. I think the final straw happened when an employee I had fired 10 days earlier committed suicide. I think that is really when I gave up on pretending to be happy. I started engaging in behaviors that I really believed were far behind me. If you told me a year ago I would be cutting and binging and purging on a regular basis, I would tell you there was no way. But here I am, and I'm worried about how far down I will go. I want to be clear, I am not suicidal, I do not want to kill myself. Most of the time I feel I wouldn't mind if I died naturally, but I don't think I would kill myself.
I can always kinda gauge how bad I am doing mentally by my reaction to the suicide of others. When I am in a good place and I hear about someone killing themselves, I get angry. I think it is selfish of them, and I just can't understand it. Today Robin Williams committed suicide. I was sad when I found out, but I understood why he did it. My mother has suffered from bipolar disorder her whole life. She has tried to kill herself more times than I can count. I am her caretaker. She is actually in the psych ward right now. I think that after spending all my time around her, I start to see things the way she does. I think maybe she is right. Maybe life really isn't something to be enjoyed, but to be endured. The more people I know who kill themselves, the more I think life must really not have value. If so many people can throw it away, does life actually mean anything? Maybe when I happy and loving my life, I was the delusional one. I don't want to kill myself, but just like the cutting and purging seem so normal to me now, I'm afraid that if I keep going like this one day killing myself will seem okay too. I'm not loving my life, and on some level I do want it to be over. I just can't imagine having to continue doing this for another 50 years. I love my nieces, and I don't want to ever leave them like that. I am okay faking it for them. I don't need to be happy as long as they are. I am just so afraid that I will wake up one day and not want to endure this life anymore. I don't want to want to kill myself. I wish I knew how to be happy again. Thank you for reading, just needed someone to talk to.