My life isn't that bad, really. I don't even know if I'm suffering from clinical depression, because I do enjoy myself occasionally--usually it's playing games. Real life, though, seems far less worthwhile. In high school, I had a 3.98 GPA, was on the debate team (50+ awards), NHS, news team, you name it. I was content. College has been nothing but a downward slant, over the three and a half years I've been here. My grades have been steadily declining. Over the past year or so it's been especially bad; I simply don't go to class anymore. I don't do homeworks. Sometimes I show up for exams, and I've gotten really decent grades when I crack the book a few hours before an exam. I've come close to academic probation and I've completely lost my scholarship, but I still have a chance of graduating if some second wind of motivation magically picks me up from where I'm at and whisks me off to a life of productivity. The thing is, I want to do productive things, but don't. I have a web community that I founded and did some coding for (I'm a comp sci undergrad), and I'm always thinking of things I'd like to add--but never do. Every time class time looms, I convince myself I have to go, until the time comes, and I rationalize my way out of it ("I don't have to go today, I can catch up later."). I feel like I'm a voice trapped in the corner of my mind, wanting to take pride in my work, wanting to be productive, and just lack the willpower to do it. Anything that I commit to, even if it's fun, suddenly feels like work when I have to do it, and I put it off. The only time I'm really ever happy (or at least content) is when I'm lost in a game. Off and on for the two years of its inception, I played World of Warcraft to varying degrees of obsession. (Even accounting for months when I swore off it, I averaged five hours a day for two years.) Before that, it was Halo PC. Really, it doesn't matter what it is--digital entertainment of any kind is an escape. If I swear off of one, I'll find another to soak up my time. I recognize that it's an addiction as serious as drug or alcohol abuse, because it totally ruins my life, absorbs all of my time, and makes me hate living in the real world. Because in the real world, my life sucks, I'm never going to amount to anything, I'm going to disappoint all the people that love me, and I'll eventually waste away as a broke, creepy fat balding guy who works at some Kinko's and makes enough money to pay the rent and the MMO subscription. A good online friend who went through a suicidal experience wanted me to seek professional help, so I did. I went to see a doctor, who did a blood test, and gave me some sample antidepressants to take for a few weeks, which did absolutely jack. The blood test came up negative. There's nothing chemically wrong with me, I'm apparently just inherently sad and pathetic. (Forgive my indulgence, but self-loathing has become somewhat of a pastime of mine.) My father wants me to go so see a psychiatrist. I've lost track of the number of times I've tried to pull myself out of this. I always promise myself new resolutions, and my "good period" where I'm active and happy will last anywhere from a few hours to a few days at most, then I'm back to normal. (Normal is depressed when not playing a game, content when lost in a virtual world.) I've only really gotten serious about suicide the last few months. Sure, the thought occurred to me many times over the last few years, but now I've found myself doing serious research into methods, checked gun prices, looked up whether certain chemicals could be legally purchased, that sort of thing. I wrote a frustrated suicide note to try to get some weight off my chest, but that only made me feel worse. Would I do it? During lucid periods, no, but I'm writing this in one of those periods, when I can actually step back and reflect. If I had a gun on-hand during times of crisis, when the weight of my crappy life crashes down on me and I feel like a complete failure to the human race? Yeah, when one of those closes around me, I could see myself blowing my head off. It wouldn't be hard, and I've wanted to before, I just didn't have a gun. What do I want from life? Simple--I want to enjoy doing work, enjoy doing productive recreation, and have the willpower to do it. As weird as it sounds, I hate enjoying games. Even while I'm on autopilot playing Civ 4, or Sims 2, or whatever else, I'm torturing myself with pangs of guilt--I should be out doing something else. There's so much potential on the horizon, but I've trapped myself in a cage of my own unshakable behavior. I have to summon immense reserves of willpower to do simple things like go to the bank, get a haircut, or get groceries. I've had periods where I've gone for weeks--longest was two weeks, I think--subsisting on nothing but ordered pizza because I just didn't feel like getting to the grocery store--and it was right across the street from my apartment. (I can only imagine how pathetic that Papa John's guy thinks I am.) My life isn't that bad, but I've squandered so much, and every attempt I've made to change my behavior has failed. I don't know if I suffer from clinical depression; I've got more than enough symptoms to justify to myself that I do (long periods of self-destructive behavior), but then again, I've got enough to justify that I don't (I do feel happy, or at least content, when I'm playing a game, and more so if it's multiplayer). I loathe melodramatic speeches and hollow threats, so I will simply state that I mean this in full seriousness. I have not tried to kill myself. I know that if I do, it will not be an attempt, because I'm not an idiot and can properly aim a firearm if I purchase one. If I attempt suicide, I will be dead, period. Every day I contemplate it more, and do more research on how to go about it. That's part of why I'm posting here. This is my gathering of opinions (or pity party for myself, you might say.) But understand that I won't be indulging myself with any petty attention-getting suicide attempts.