Fear of Living

So I have finished moving into my new place and I am very happy to be here. In fact I have been so inspired with decorating ideas that I am almost overly anxious to get back to IKEA to pick up my new items. My life has been this almost unbearable cycle of happiness and saddness. I wish I could find a hole to hide in until my mind and soul had decided which way it wants to go. I am happy to have my new job and even more happier once I have come to realize just how much extra income I have to make some dreams a reality. I am happy to have my new place and have a place where I feel comfortable having my friends and family come and visit and stay in. However I am saddened that lately he has decided to not talk to me. He barely says hello. He doesn't answer my calls and maybe here and there will answer a text message. I went back to the house and noticed that they had moved their things into my old room the same day I moved out. It was as if they couldn't wait for me to move. It was as if I never existed. I have said I am sorry to the point of where I am sick of the phrase but he still seems disinterested in me or my existence. I feel like he hates me. In fact I would be willing to bet money on it. I don't know what I did or what happened but whatever it is, it has felt me not only alone but in a constant state of mild depression. I think of everything. I cry frequently. I have nightmares and sometimes can't sleep. I casually think of new ways to kill myself, the newest way being causing a wreck on the freeway. For some reason I have always figured that would be the way I would die anyway. Truth be told, I am not well. I know it and I feel some shame in it. I should be able to fix myself. I went to school for this. But this is not a normal situation. I don't live a normal life. He is in Sunshine's room with her. In what odd turn of life did I think that my ex-boyfriend would be coming over to spend time with my roommate and ignoring me as if he didn't know who I am? In what turn of life did I think that I would live this and think that it was some healthy way of healing? I am not ok. I wish other people knew. I wish they cared. The only 2 things that keep me from pulling a knife on myself (which is one of my frequent thoughts) is my parents and the fear that I would not die -- that I would live and have to go through it again but this time with the label of being certifiably crazy. How could this journey take me to this place? I am going to see my psychologist friend tomorrow. I decided to get serious about my therapy. I really don't have alot go choices now. I just want some to hold me and to care. I am so alone now.