Why am I here? Excellent question; I'm glad you asked. First, let me quickly whip through 30 years of backstory. For as long as I can remember, I've struggled with severe depression and food addiction. I was an athlete in high school -- gained an enormous amount of weight in my early 20s -- and lost an enormous weight in my late 20s. At the time, I naively assumed losing all that weight was going to be the key to my happiness. I expected to gain the confidence I needed to tackle my many other problems, enter into a steady relationship, and essentially become that competent adult I had always envisioned. Well... that didn't happen. Instead, I uncovered an entire new set of problems that were much harder to tame. At least with the weight gain, I knew if I had the fortitude, a solution was out there. With these new issues -- depression, apathy, anxiety, self loathing, inability to be intimate, ect. -- to this day, I truly question if there exists anything even remotely close to a cure. After a few year of being skinny, but experiencing of a gross lack of personal fulfillment, I gave in to my base desires and started eating uncontrollably once again. I could go into detail explaining the kind of hell it is to gain 150lbs, but I'm pretty sure it's easy enough to imagine. In the past 2 years I've been to the hospital twice for mental issues, I've done 2 partial programs, tried DBT, went to a food addiction specialty program. I've seen multiple therapists and psychiatrists. I also gave up a solid career to truly tackle these issues. Yet today, I'm more in the hole than ever. Not only do I continue to grow more isolated and continue to put on more weight, but I've also grown convinced that our mental health institutions have no answers for someone like me. As a result, I've lost that flame, that drive, that internal voice of encouragement. I've become a husk of a human -- letting the garbage in my apartment pile up, letting my hygiene go unchecked, watching movies hour after hour, just waiting for each day to be over. I've promised myself that I will never consider suicide under rash circumstances. It will not be a response to an intense feeling of sadness or anger. The only way suicide will ever be an option is if I'm fully convinced that change is impossible and that my current state is permanent. That may seem like a lofty bar to clear, however, day after day, loose thoughts harden closer and closer to certainty.