Hey everybody. I'm new on here and looking for some help that has eluded me so far. So, here's my story, sorry, it's gonna be long. I was always an extremely happy child, despite many issues, including molestation, the death of my mother, emotional and physical abuse from my father and chronic health issues. I saw a therapist weekly from 5th grade (when my best friend notified the school about my father hitting me) on and off 'til I graduated high school. During middle school I would bring water bottles full of alcohol to bed with me, although that subsided relatively quickly. After a particularly horrific fight with my father in the same time period, I tried to xxxxxx. I blacked out, and the next thing I remember is crouching on the bathroom floor sputtering and coughing. No clue how I got out. After that, I surrounded myself with friends and starting smoking pot several times a day, which ended by the time I was 16 or so. I grew up in a household that encouraged me to question the world and the way it works, and I've developed a sort of existential philosophy. My view is, if we're all going to die anyway, why should we just bide our time here? Nothing we do here will truly matter once we're gone. Sure, we may impact some people, but they'll eventually die as well, negating all we'd worked so hard for. So why work at all? Why postpone the inevitable, especially when the intervening time is so painful? The thought of having to live every day for the next 60 or 70 years is the most excruciating thing to me. I brought this up to my friends in my senior year and they suggested I go to the guidance counselor, who sent me to the hospital for a psych evaluation. The Dr. wanted to keep me there for observation, but my parents refused, not really placing much importance on what I had to say, or how I was feeling (not that I really wanted to stay either). The thing is, it wasn't because anything in my life was going wrong. I had an amazing boyfriend, had just gotten into my first choice college, and was finally getting along with my parents. It was constantly on my mind, but every once in a while it would get so overwhelming that I'd break down- hysterical sobbing, hyperventilating, minor self-abuse (scratching, biting etc). My close friends and family were aware of most of this, deeming them my "existential crises" in a joking way. In the last 6 months or so, these episodes have become more frequent and lasted longer (a week or so at a time now, as opposed to the few hours that they used to be). The background feelings are growing stronger as well. My therapist, who've I've only seen once during this time, wants me to go on meds. She thinks it's probably a chemical imbalance, which is not unlikely considering I'm the only female on my mom's side who's NOT bi-polar. And I'm starting to think that might be the only option. No matter how often I discuss it with my parents or friends, they seem to pass it off as just 'me being me'. I love my work, and that's the only place I'm really happy at the moment. Of course, I still fight back tears there often, but for the most part I can keep myself focused on my patients (I work in an animal hospital). But I can't do it when I'm not at work. I drive to class (I'm a full time college student as well) after work...and I can't make myself go in. I sit in my car in the parking lot and sob, every day. I've now missed 2 months of classes, and I don't know how to fix it. I'm not sure if I even want to. My parents ask me how classes are going, and I lie. I don't think I want to be around long enough for a degree to make a difference. I'm not sure if I want help, if I want to be happy or if I just want it all to be over, and that is a constant internal debate that infiltrates everything I do. I don't know how to handle this anymore. I'm a 19 year old girl, and a sophomore in college, by the way.