When does it end?

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I'm not sure how much of the rock-bottom level depression is caused by the desire to meet a woman my type, in particular experience sex with a woman my type.

I'd have chemical depression regardless (everyone in my family except my dad is on meds for depression)...but neither my mom or brother would be suicidal without the meds...they'd just feel like crap and have obsessive thoughts.

With me, if the pills aren't working, especially the past couple years when I started dating, learning about the ins and outs of dating, and wanting to experience full on intercourse with someone I like after getting very close, I feel suicidal when the pills aren't working, like I wish I was never born. I would never do anything to myself...but I get to the point where life means nothing to me.

I'd go to a therapist, but if the excess depression is a result of being sexually frustrated and lonely, that's not something he'd be able to help me with unless he knew someone to introduce me to.

I'll admit, I am picky about looks in particular, but my type isn't models or playmates or hot girls that party or anything like that.

I just wish life would end. It's too long. Women are just an obsession, not an actual interest. Just something the devil placed in my head to distract me and frustrate me at the same time. I really wish the time machine would be invented so I could prevent my parents from meeting, much less consummating.

Might want to ease your standards a little if you're not looking for anything too serious. I can't make any assumptions but people who take care of their physical appearance from my experience usually want a person who generally does the same. (Just saying, you might be taking awesome care of yourself, i don't know) Also this isn't always the case, it just unfortunately tends to help because most of the world has a fairly high prerequisite when it comes to standards of physical appearance.

You seem like a nice guy, are there any interests or anything you have? You say women are an obsession, but are there any others?

First, if there's anything I do, depressed or not depressed, I take care of my physical appearance, work out every day, dress well.

Women wouldn't make me happy anyway. I just want out of life, period, but am too much of a wimp to end it myself. Even at my worst (pre-Asperger diagnosis when i thought I was some kind of alien and had no idea there were other people like me out there) I didn't go through with suicide.

I've just had enough of life. I wasn't built, emotionally, for this world. I'll never drive a car, have any kind of job (not that either bothers me) and I'm basically a 10 year old in a 27 year old body who collects baseball cards and watches old tv shows. I wouldn't know the first thing about taking care of bills, taxes, all that adult stuff. If it weren't for my parents, I'd be dead already probably.

When does it end?

For some, it ends with death.

For others, it ends when they stop obsessing over it.

For the rest in between these two extremes, it ends when it ends.