The hardest person to tell was my mom. Out of my siblings, I was the one my parents believed "had my **** together". They thought I wasn't "plagued" with anything other than mild depression at the worst. They had no idea that the first time I remember being suicidal I was only in the first grade and before that it was suicidal ideation. I've always been secretive toward my parents. So when I ended up in the hospital, I kept that from my mom because I could. I couldn't from my dad because he would've seen the bills. Telling him, I didn't talk about the suicidality as much as I confessed that I had been diagnosed with PTSD. Then I ended up right back in IP a week after I got out the first time. This time, for a very close attempt. I decided to tell my mom while I was IP. I don't remember my exact words other than, "My head's really ****ed up, mom. And I can't stop it." I cried the whole time I told her. It was one of the only times I've ever cried in front of her since middle school. She cried, too, and she held me like I was her little kid. She told me she had a feeling and that she understood. She told me to quit trying to be so strong for her when it's supposed to be the other way around. I've been able to talk to my mom ever since. Her reaction was nothing like I expected and she surprised the hell out of me, but I'm grateful for it.