Every single day I have struggled with depression and anxiety. I deal with social anxiety on top of that, and am a chubby transgender women, a pretty easy target for being made fun of. But the more and more I think about life and the journey we go on, the more I don't understand the value of being alive. Every good thing in life has something about it that's bad. And it's inevitable in life that we will have to face some troubles, so why bother living? I feel more and more like I'm trapped into being alive, like the only thing keeping me from killing myself is the thought of harming so many people that would be upset. I have a brother with Schizophrenia and if I killed myself it could be a huge detriment to his condition, and about half my family has one other mental illness. So why do we put up with it? I kind of need someone to tell me why we continue to live, because if we all know that at one point or another our lives are going to be miserable... why live? Here's a closing thought. In Matt Groening's fictional TV show Futurama, a suicide booth is shown on a sidewalk. 5 Cents and you can die. Oh if it were only that simple. Because I wish I could just cease to exist, without harming others. I wasn't born right, and I can't die right either. Well if you actually read this, cheers. I am not doing great right now. Kind of viewing suicide as a choice, with pros and cons. Maybe I'll post that list sometime.