I never thought I'd be here seeking help from strangers...or in a position where I feel like I am staring death in the face and I'm liking what I'm seeing. I need to let it all out, and I have no one in my life who I could allow to bear the burden of all the suicidal thoughts lurking in my mind. As I pick up the xxx I’ve kept prepped for several months, I wonder where I went wrong. I grew up upper middle class. Throughout my childhood and up until college, I was a loner, but I had friends who were as lonely as I was. But I used to be ok with being alone, having no interactions with the opposite sex at all…life was simpler and I just didn’t think about much. I took a false sense of pride in my isolation, and life was bearable. When I started university I retained much of the same lifestyle…being shut in my room most hours of the day, having few friends. I was a mathematics major and I took solace in learning, in academic success, in being different. But to my horror, I started feeling…envy, jealous at the happiness of others. I was alone, when everyone seemed happy. And for the first time, I felt sadness. I was not clueless enough to think everyone else really was happy, but they had relationships with others I couldn’t begin to understand. I cannot connect with anyone on a meaningful level at all. I am tormented by this failure. This torment turns to rage, and dark thoughts mix in with my thoughts of suicide. I cannot reconcile what I see around me with the emptiness I feel inside. The only regret I have is that I’ll die never experiencing a woman’s love. If I’m going to be forced by friends and family to live so as not to hurt them, I would want to live for a woman I love. But I am incapable of knowing love in any sense at all. Love is an abstraction of what I’d like to feel for others and for someone to feel for me, but cannot because I am so broken. As I go to class, I see a familiar girl who I think I might be the only person I’ve actually harbored romantic feelings for. When I see her, the dark feelings are suddenly absent. But I am not worthy of someone so perfect. She is a symbol of everything I cannot have, everything I wish I could be more like, everything I’d like to surround my own life to drown out the voices. My parents have been extremely supportive of everything I’ve done, and if it weren’t for them, I would have ended myself long ago. Part of me resents them for caring, chaining me to this world and allowing myself to feel guilt, afraid of what my death would do to them. I don’t deserve their support, or the support of anyone for that matter. You could that living for guilt has been what my life has been for far too long. I get enjoyment out of nothing anymore. My former goal to go on to get a doctorate in mathematics I can hardly even care about anymore. Success in anything no longer gives even glimpses of happiness or satisfaction. I am deadened to the world, feeling nothing but emptiness and nothingness. It is beyond sadness, and it has been this way for a few years now. Medication has not helped. Therapy has been a waste of money. Most of all, I don’t want to see what I’ll become. I‘m scared of what I might see. I want to die, drift away holding the positive image of what other people see me as, never having a chance to see myself ruin everything I used to be proud of in my life. I see death as the only way out, and its soothing to me that if there’s one thing I can control it’s the power over my own life and death. Tragically I’ve rationalized death as the only solution to my current state, and its comforting and horrifying at the same time. As I sit here alone, I feel only misery, not the peace I felt when I was alone as a youth. I am trying desperately to shut the suicidal thoughts out of my head. Isolation is no longer my sanctuary, but a prison. As I stare at the xxxxx in my hand, that familiar guilt creeps into my head and I angrily put it back down. Ironically, I am being selfless. But I feel that chain weakening every day this happens.