I am a University Student, studying Journalism, and in my second year. A few years ago, I was passionate about writing, especially news stories, which I then posted onto a blog under a pseudonym of 'Sam Z'. Didn't garner much attention, but it kept me happy and my dream alive, and at the same time, I received positive feedback from those \on Wordpress and my Twitter followers. Fast forward to 2012, and I mess up my A Level results. Naturally, I hope to resit them, but my parents said no, do not waste the year and go off to uni, albeit it be a very bad one, you will stil have a degree and can move onto a masters. I come from a family where academic performance needs to be immaculate. It is expected since the day of our births. And I think I let my parents and extended family down by not pursuing medicine, a field most of my family members are in, or accountancy, which my mother wanted me to enter, but my A level maths results were abysmal. The only good result I got was in English, so with my love for Journalism, I got a place through clearing, thanks to my English A Level. I had to move away for Uni. 88 Miles to be exact from our home in North East London/Essex. I didn't drive so i had to spend 2 and a half hours when I wanted to come back home. I got terribly homesick from the get go. Freshers week was a disappointment, I didn't make many friends, and that is probably what triggered my downfall. Ultimately, I made a few friends from my course, but it took a while. IN that time since I started University, I had issues with anxiety. I couldn't talk to people at my Uni in comfort, I was always paranoid, always shaky. Interviews were a nightmare. As a result, I got a 2:2 in my first year overall, which some say is okay, but it didn't set a good benchmark for me to lead onto the second year. As this campus I went to was fairly new and small, there were only 10 people on my course in the beginning. By the start of the second year, most had moved, away to other, better universities to continue their degrees. This felt like a huge act of betrayal. By April 2013, I felt like I made a few friends for life, who on the last day of uni, which was also the day of my birthday, promised they will not move away and stay. I took their word and cancelled any plans I had to move to a Uni in London, for the sake of retaining these friendships I had made. However, in September, me and 3 others remained on the course. The others moved. I felt sick to the stomach, out of place, a loner. I had constant mood swings, acquired unhealthy eating habits, couldn't sleep well at night, and didn't care about life anymore. In my 2nd week back, I transferred to a campus of the same institution in Essex. My family had now moved to the Midlands, so I was still around 100 miles away from them. In Essex, I felt at first that this was a right choice. The group was made up of 20 hardworking individuals, who welcomed me with open arms. However, the sadness was still very much with me, along with the unhealthy eating and the lack of joy. I spent October till December mostly in my room. And while I told everyone I was studying, I couldn't. My mind didnt want to do any work. I knew failiure wasn't an option, but here I was doing nothing in my room. In those months, I cried every day for being a pathetic human being and not doing as well as y family members, who were succeeding in their fields. I was late to classes, and even bunked many times. I made up many excuses. But when I started work on my assignments over Christmas, I started off well, then tragedy hit and the interviews for my radio modules were deleted, or corrupted rather. This led to a couple of nervous breakdowns before the hand in date of 6th January. During one of these breakdowns, I wrote a long email to my lecturers and while I don't remember sending it, on the 6th, my tutor told me she had read it and she gave me a 10 day extension. I haven't looked at my sent folder. I don't want to read that email I sent, i am scared to read it. Now, the 10 day extension is about to expire, I am still where I was on the 6th. I had a plan of doing so much work, but I couldn't. I locked myself inside the room weeping and thinking of suicide. I don't want to live anymore. I am going to get a fail in 2 out of 3 modules, and that will not bode well with my parents. They will not physically abuse me, no. They are not like that. They have probably had enough. This was the last straw and I fear they won't look at me the same way. I may get disowned, though not publicly, but to them. This morning, I tried to find out why I was this way. I mean, I am not dumb, my lecturers labelled me as a smart lad, and not out of pity either. Why was I so disinterested, why did I not complete my work? I found a link to the NHS website about depression, and it had a test embedded on the page which asked questions to distinguish whether I am clinically depressed or not. I scored 20 out of 27, which they say i could very likely be suffering from depression. My family are medical proffessionals, and yet, mental illness and health is still a stigma. For that reason, I never went to the CV, thinking of the supposed aftermath. What if I am depressed? What will my parents say? Will they say its just an excuse? A facade? A drama? But now, I want to go see the GP and get checked up. I feel vunerable, and broken. I think about taking my life. I lie to my parents that I am doing my work when instead I am browsing forums on ways to kill myself. At the same time, I do not want to die. I am very conflicted. What should I do?