Hello everyone, I'm a 24 year old male, law student, and living/working in downtown Chicago. I'm here because I never share these thoughts with anyone, and I just want to get them off my chest. Most people call suicidal individuals "whiners," which I think is really stupid and just reflective of their own insecurity and cowardly fear of death. To me, suicide is completely pragmatic and devoid of emotion. What is the point of living in misery when we are all going to die anyways? Why not just take the shortcut rather than go through all the suffering? I've been depressed every since I was 12 years old, and wanted to die since I was 16. I didn't have any suffering or trauma in my childhood; actually quite the opposite. I was always social, and never had to work hard at anything. throughout my life I've been in the top 99th percentile on almost every test I've ever taken, so I've always had a lot of free time to enjoy the things I love: reading, learning, and experiencing art and other forms of media. At 16, I got my first job doing web development, and even though it was a good job and paid very well, it really struck me and greatly multiplied my depression knowing that I would have to waste the vast majority of my future life dragging myself out of bed at 6:30am, miserable and praying for death. That I'd only be rationed out small bits of happiness, which would grow fewer and further between with age, until retirement, at which point I would be on the virge of death anyways. At that point I figured I would have to kill myself by age 18, but I went to college and was actually happy for 2 years (of 4) for the first time. I fell back into depression as the end drew near, but I managed to put off death (i.e. working life) for a couple years by going to law school. I am finishing my second year. I now have a "great" job and 1 year left of law school - but I'm getting more distant and apathetic with every day. I've always been nocturnal, and waking up in the morning is incredibly painful for me no matter how long I've been in the routine. I absolutely hate working. Something about having to go somewhere every day, having to constantly play stupid games with stupid people, and having to work for the rest of my life to survive is just completely horrifying to me. No matter what job, even if it would be something I love; something about the compulsion and servitude just causes me unbearable distress. I'm not a negative person. I have so many loves in life. I love to meet people and have intellectual/philosophical discussions. I tend to forge very deep relationships with everyone I meet, and I love helping people; I'm really good at listening. I love just experiencing art, beauty, culture and life. But my time to do these things is fading away. I see what happens to free spirited people who go to work 9-5 (if your lucky to have to work that few hours) and I'm beginning to become zombified myself. I've never been a jealous person, but to make matters worse, I live in downtown Chicago, and I'm constantly seeing and meeting all these people who don't have to do anything. They have enough assets to be completely 100% free, and just pursue their own social, intellectual, physical and otherwise personal interests. I have no idea how someone with that kind of freedom could ever feel sad. They live such beautiful lives, and I know if I was switched with them I would completely immerse myself in all the wonderful things in life; from learning languages/art/travel for myself, to being involved in the community and building bright futures for others. I don't want to take anything from anyone, and I don't feel envious towards them; but it's something different. More like, what is the point of my own existence as a worker-bot? My existence didn't have to be like this. I'm sorry, I know a lot of people really love life and would say how lucky I am to have what I have - but for me, it is just a huge burden which causes twisting pain. Life just isn't worth it for me if I have to work everyday. If I was free, I would without a doubt turn my intellectual gifts towards trying to help others and do good for humanity; but the fact that I'm not completely pushes every bit of enjoyment in my life to the background and causes me such anxiety and unhappiness that I just want to tear at myself. I was at the top of my class when I started law school, but I've been slipping. I just don't care anymore. It's not worth it. Even if I get some kind of high paying job, it's still nothing more than a miserable, soul draining job. The only reason I stay alive now is to buy mega millions lottery tickets every Tuesday and Friday incase there's a chance I can stay alive. In the mean time I've been heavily taking drugs to fill the growing black hole in my heart. I wish I could just not wake up in the morning, or fade away - but that's just another unfulfilled wish. I've started drafting letters to all my friends and loved ones, and for the past month my mind has been constantly bent towards trying to figure out the best way to go, when the little energy I have left finally gives. Well, that's my story. I'm hoping to be a lottery winner, or dead within a couple months. Can anyone understand this?