Brief biography just to give a clear picture for accurate assessment. I was sent to boarding school at the age of 8. My father was having an affair, and my parents decided they'd sort their marriage out without the kids around. The first few nights I was there, sexual activity occurred that was known but ignored, and I spent most of the time crying my eyes out wondering why I couldn't go home. Which made me a target for bullying. Made it through school ok until I went to the senior school. Puberty changed things, and suddenly nobody wanted to be seen with me. I figured if I kept to myself people would leave me alone, but that just seemed to make it worse. I was consistently ridiculed and told that I was hated. Gave up hope at the end and left school with bad grades. Then I turned to drugs and alcohol. Managed fine for about 6 months, then I had a nervous breakdown. I was having severe panic attacks most of the day, and I was so depressed I could barely get out of bed. Was prescribed citalopram, and things picked up. Went to university, and things were ok up until my second year. Then I had a psychotic episode that I never really recovered from. Was prescribed olanzapine, and things started to piece back together. Only this time something had changed, and I realized I wanted to kill myself. Since then (about 4 years ago), I've thought about suicide every day. The olanzapine also made me gain 4 stone which I've never been able to shift, and so now I'm an overweight head-case. Which has crippled my self-confidence and resulted in almost total isolation. I'm still a virgin, and do not feel that will ever change. Not that it would make much difference if it did, but it just makes me feel totally unwanted. About 8 months ago I had another episode, and the medication stopped working. I have been living in mental hell, and despite changes to my medication, nothing has really changed. Whereas before I thought about suicide as a possible escape plan, now I find myself wondering if I'll still be alive after the weekend. I live alone. I hate my job. I find no joy at all in life. And I'm totally ******* sick of it. I've been told things will pick up, but to what end? To live a life as a poorly medicated fatso, with no ambitions in life or sources of pleasure? Please, tell me, what possible reason is there to continue?