Bad Memory

When I was younger, I had an unsuccessful suicide attempt. I tried to overdose on Advil. It didn't work because my tolerance was already to high for Advil. I used to eat them like M&M's. Because of this, I was placed into foster care(yet again, one out of the four times). I didn't try, that method, again because my counselor told me that I had to live for my brother and sister. She told me that if I died, no one would take care of them. That the things that happened to me would eventually happen to them. I was guilted into living. I would have never allowed anything to happen to them. I was tired of living at the age of 10 or 11. But, she made it clear that there would be nothing I could do about it if I was dead. My mother made it clear that no one wanted/loved me. She told me she kept me for the child support. I was a worthless bitch. I have no idea why she hated me so much. As I look back on it, I think I represented my father too much. Or, maybe at that age she was jealous of me for being the adult she wasn't. If what my mother said was true, then what was my purpose for living? As per my middle school counselor, it was my brother and sister. Now that I think about it, that may not have been the best thing to tell a child. The only reason I should live is for my brother and sister to live? Why not live because I'm worth life? Why not live because I am God's child? Or how about pointing out that there may just be one person that loves me. I never got that...and as I recall such event, I'm getting depressed. Is this the process I must go through? Must I be made to feel like shit and worthless before I do a 180? As my tears pour down, can someone show me where there may be a silver lining? I hope this doctor has some pieces for my puzzle, otherwise I'm nose diving into the Pacific Ocean...and I can't swim.