Hello Forums. I can honestly say that I never thought I'd come to a point like this in my life, though I suppose that a good number of us do, don't we? I am a 20 year old male college student working towards a degree in Computer Science, and I'm at the end of my 3rd year, and boy what a year it's been. In high school I aced every class, no sweat. During those years, I developed a severe case of chronic anxiety, a similar condition to what every man on my father's side of the family has had. I learned to control it, and even used my experiences to help people. I have prevented 5 people from commiting suicide, and I can tell you that it makes me incredibly proud to see each of them thriving in life knowing that I did something to help someone, and that I've made their lives better in some way. Coming into college, I was challenged, but so far I had persevered. But recently I've hit a wall, a big wall, a crushing wall. I am being absolutely destroyed by my classes this year, and I have nothing to blame but myself. I run from my problems, almost instinctively. I procrastinate, as if pretending something isn't there makes it not there, simply because I'm afraid I'll fail before I start. Given how I've been doing this year, I may as well have never tried. I'm a smart guy, and obviously me saying shows I'm a bit high on myself, but never have I felt so low. It started with one class. I got very far behind in it due to working and going to school simultaneously, so, at the unhappiness of my parents, I came to the decision to quit my job for a couple of months to focus just on school. They could have easily said no, but they allowed it expecting results. I am so very very ashamed to have to come to them with these horrendous marks, and even more ashamed that I would ever do so poorly, and make so many mistakes, even when given every chance and every advantage to not make them. I make many mistakes, I'm human and I realize that. But I never fail, especially not on this scale, and I sure as hell never give up. For some reason, all I've done this past year is run from my problems, failing and giving up. Avoiding what I'm afraid of, not acknowledging the problems at hand, thinking things will solve themselves. Foolish. Lazy. Pathetic. This isn't who I wanted to be, but it's who I've become. My anxiety has naturally skyrocketed, and I cannot control it any longer. I refuse to take medication for it and change my personality, I still have enough arrogance to insist that I am "above" them, though I do not look down upon any who need them. Medication works. I also do not wish to become another cog in the soulless machine that is the American Workforce, though I see no way to live they lifestyle I want without being part of one I hate. This may also scare me when I get to something hard. I always face challenges head on, I am extremely competitive, and I'm always trying to show how good I am at what I do, but beating these hurdles shows me how much more suited I am for the desk job of a code monkey. My future as it stands may not even give me that, but the very thought of it makes me sick. So now, I am at an ultimatum. After several years of anxiety and therapy, and years of running from my problems and breaking down to my lowest point, I have reached an end; I can't run anymore. My body aches every day with the pain of failure, my once clear and sharp mind is addled by fear and clouded by shame. I view myself as a useless waste of flesh and life, one who had such potential to make a difference, yet has wasted himself because of his own ineptitude. I equate myself at this point to merely a sentient piece of trash. And like trash, I must do one of two things to it. 1) Throw it out 2) Recycle it I cannot stress enough, even though my previous tone may not have shown it, that I am seriously contemplating option 1. There are many moments, right now even, where I yearn for the drive to go out, grab a shotgun, and blow my wasted grey matter all over the walls of my room, ending what I see as a miserable waste of life. I hate feeling afraid every moment of every day, I hate being useless. I have told my friends and family even that if I were to ever become diagnosed with dementia or Alzheimer's to either let me kill myself or to kill me. I would rather die than live on as I am right now. What's holding me back is money. I have a car, I can drive anywhere and put a shell in the ol' noggin. But I don't have enough money to buy a shotgun and ammo, which is statistically the most painless and most successful method of suicide available. I realize my family will be hurt, as will my friends. A lot of people will be hurt. But at this point, I just want release. Option 2 is one that I would have hoped to have wanted more, and for a long time, I would have chosen it. I simply do not know though how to change myself again, and I fear it is too late for my career or my dignity to be saved by rebuilding myself again. I fear also that like many things this year, I will fail. I'm coming here begging you all to help me want Option 2, please, make me want to recycle this broken pile instead of throw it away. I want to die, desperately so, but I realize that there is still always a way to win. I may not be able to see it, but maybe you do. Please, if you know the way, show me.