I've struggled with depression since I was a teenager. Grew up in a family where you were considered weak if you took aspirin for a headache. Saw a couple of therapists, briefly, when I was young but thought I could do it on my own and prove I was strong. Pretty much dropped out of all social activities my senior year of high school. Didn't get my picture taken because I "didn't plan on being around". Somehow, I toughed it out mostly because everyone told me college would be better. College wasn't better. I went off and on because I would get depressed. Had one good year, I think, when I first came out. Then all the old thoughts started coming back. Never did graduate. I've had about 40 different jobs. I would get depressed and stop going into work. After a while I would be able to motivate myself to try again. I can't anymore. I finally started taking meds in 2004. I've been on many. Some of them help a little, but none of them are "happy" pills. Usually, they stop working after a while and they switch me to a new med. In 2006, my best friend died of cancer at the age of 33. She wanted to live. I don't. I wish I could have died in her place. After she died, I had a "breakdown". I wrote all my family suicide notes, stole some money, and left home. My plan was to go where I didn't know anyone, remove all my identification so I would be a "John Doe", and kill myself. I didn't want my family to have to do the "clean up". I wandered from state to state for a year, convinced myself that I was receiving messages from God, stayed in homeless shelters and couch surfed and was hospitalized twice, once for suicidal ideation and once for taking 30-40 pills. I eventually found a friend who I hadn't pushed away or lied to who was willing to let me stay with him. I found a counselor who I connected with and she encouraged me to apply for disability. That was 3 years ago. That counselor got a different job, I've moved to a different state and now I've been denied disability. I don't want to participate in the world. I want to be alone. I don't like the world. I think about killing myself every day. Some days more than others. I still have an appeal pending for disability but at the level I'm at I've read that only 2 or 3% of people are successful. I'm living with an amazing friend that let's me stay with him rent free and getting food stamps, but I think the food stamps will eventually require me to work if I don't get disability and I don't think I can. I worry that my friend will tire of me and that I will become homeless again. I don't want to be around people. Nothing makes me happy. I see nothing but servitude and unhappiness in the future. I want to be alone, really alone. I would be satisfied to have an apartment that I never/rarely had to come out of. That's not going to happen. So I think about killing myself. When. How. I think about it hurting my mom and my friend but, selfishly, I think more about not wanting to live with this sort of "pain" for the next 30 or 40 years if I were to live a "natural" life. I started seeing a new counselor when I moved here. She was young and inexperienced. Knew nothing about the disability process. Refused to offer her opinion about my ability to work. I thought about getting a different therapist from day one, but kept going because it was easier. Then my lawyer told me I should get someone new. I've got that appointment Thursday. Scared that this new person won't be a "fit" either. Scared of telling all my crap to someone new. Scared that they won't believe me. Scared that they won't support my disability case. Scared that they'll ship me off to the hospital (which is the opposite of being alone). Scared that I'll end up homeless (which is the opposite of being alone). Scared that nothing will work and that I'll have no choice left but to kill myself. I don't really want to die, but I don't want to live either. At least, not in the world as it is presently constructed.