Hi everyone. I'm on the verge of killing myself, but I want to share my story with someone before, because the idea of doing it brings me some confort.

I'm a 25 year old (26 in February) guy that was plagued at birth with severe generalized anxiety and OCD. I was born with it, but I only learnt that I really had those problems when I was 17.

At that age, my OCD manifested in the strongest way until then. I had a crippling fear of dying and started feeling all kind of symptoms of deadly diseases. Also, at the same time, I was dealing with HOCD, which basically is fear of being homossexual. I was completely disabled at this time, I could not function, however the doctors, noticing that none of my pains had pathologies associated and that my heart rate was always 120+ BPM, referred me to a psychiatrist. And it was then that I realized that I  had mental health problems. 

My anxiety manifests itself in any way imaginable: going to the supermarket, going to the gas station, driving to an unknown location or just simply walking on the street. Every fucking situation will trigger my anxiety, unless I'm with my mom.

I started taking meds, and after a rough start, I began feeling better and better. It reached a point at which I felt like I was the happiest man alive. I fell in love with the cutest girl of my class and although we never got really personal with each other, just her presence made my anxiety disappear! However, the school year ended and I never told her how I felt and we lost contact, but today I am sure that it was mutual.

Fast forward some years of living in an "autopilot" mode, with relative mental health, until some months ago. The meds stopped working, I guess my body got used to them. My anxiety got to its highest again. I barely can function again. I looked for the girl that I wrote about earlier because I realized how important she was in fixing me. Unfortunately, I found out that she died 3 years ago, due to cancer.

At the same time I realized that I was not just anxious all this time. My anxiety led me to poor social skills so, at 25, I never had a girlfriend. The only time it almost happened I was dumb not to tell her. Now she's dead. And then it hit me. I have nothing to look forward to, everyone is living their lives happily but I just can't. I get home from work and I have nothing. I see people genuinely laughing and I can't. Summing up, some months ago I realized that I'm not just anxious. I'm deeply depressed. And have been most of my life.

And we get to today. Today was the Secret Santa party at my work. Everyone is happy but I'm feeling dead inside. Since all these years I've always been alone, my secret Santa decided to offer me a sex toy. And as dumb as it sounds, it triggered the strongest will to kill myself that I ever experienced.

Now, I'm here. I have my mom and a friend that helped me a lot during these times too, but I feel guilty always bothering them with my shit. So I decided to write to you. Probably my story doesn't make any sense, but if you've read until here, thank you.