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teks: I'm seriously considering suicide.21-Male

Ever since I can remember, I have felt fundamentally different, isolated, unlovable, awkward, unwanted, alien, and ugly. I feel physically, emotionally, and cognitively repulsive. I feel so different and strange that it's impossible for me to interact with others without feeling meretricious and dishonest.

I have synesthesia. It's a neurological condition that mixes senses; tasting sounds, hearing colors, physically feeling sound, etc. It has made me inextricably solipsistic, by making me very introverted and living in a sort of "haze". I am so caught up in all the strange things I experience that it makes life seem like a tired and feverish dream. The only time I feel "awake" from this dream is when I take Adderall, but I'm mortified to ask for a prescription, because I fear that it will have negative consequences on my health, and I fear becoming addicted.

I don't trust anyone, and I am constantly questioning the motives of others because I have no concept of self-worth. I am convinced that every compliment I receive is disingenuous, and is an attempt to use me. I have social anxiety, and it fucking sucks.

I feel that I have accomplished nothing in my life, and that to even endeavor to do so is futile. My personal standards for success are so unrealistic, I know I will never meet them. The strange part is, I am the only person I hold to these standards most of the time.

I'm quickly becoming a terrible student, because I can't focus for the life of m,e and I am being ruined by my own indecision and self-destructive perfectionism. I strive for a level of competency that probably doesn't exist, but for some selfish, idiotic, and gluttonous reason, that's my standard for success.

For the first time in my adult life, I feel convinced that it's time for me to die. I've read every plea I could find on the internet for people to not commit suicide, but at the end of the day I just can't be convinced otherwise. I'm just waiting for the day when I have the intrepidity to kick the chair. I feel that I would be doing the planet a service by leaving it. My family would be sad, but they probably wouldn't be as hurt as seeing their son / brother grow up to be a miserable failure.

At this point I either die a miserable and broken man working a dead-end job, or I pursue a career I'm passionate about and die a loveless pauper. My life is absent of everything I love, and I'm ready to die.

Why should I stay? I'm quickly losing all my friend(s), my future, and my hope. The only thing I have left is despair. Why shouldn't I kill myself?
self-harm