Hi guys, this is going to be rather a morbid post, so please bear with me.
I'm 21, male, and a paedophile, attracted to boys at the height of childhood, just before puberty. I believe I've been suffering from depression, or something similar since my early teens (I have no formal diagnosis) and it's been getting steadily worse as I've gotten older. Ruminating as I do on the subjects, I've been trying to figure out the causal factors of my depression, so that I may attempt to palliate them. An experience I've had this year has provided some answers.
I fell in love with a boy, quite profoundly, insofar as I felt a strong connection in terms of our personalities and temperaments. It was just magical, I've felt nothing like it before. It wasn't simply one sided as well, although his affection was likely of a different nature, him being so young (no inappropriate behaviour took place at any point). Anyway, I'm no longer able to see him, which of course does not serve to mitigate the symptoms of depression!
From this experience, I've learnt the power of influence that love can have on a person: when I was with him, everything was right; everything made sense. I was motivated, enthusiastic and positive about life as I've never been before or since. Having suffered from a mood disorder for so long, this was incredibly liberating for me. Now we're heading to the morbid part.
Being a paedophile, I know for certain that I'm never going to have this connection with a life partner; my only respite from depression is something I cannot have (the reasons for which I completely understand). I can't imagine living another 50+ years without having this influence in my life. I've been trying to figure out what purpose my life can have without love as a catalyst, and the only reasonable solution to my problem seems to me at this time to be suicide. Now, I'm not of a hysterical nature, and I've reflected on this at some length.
I cannot seek help for my depression, because that would involve revealing my sexual identity. I love working with children (although I'm not doing so presently), it's the only thing at which I'm very competent and successful (and I genuinely did not enter this field to have access to boys, as implausible as that seems. Indeed, I've worked with girls most of the time, with whom I have no sexual interest whatever). If I were to reveal my sexual identity to a psychologist, I would very likely be prevented from working with children, the consequences of which would rather defeat the purpose of seeking help for depression, given that working with children is a positive aspect of my life. I've considered seeking help without revealing this information, but I fear that, given the expertise of psychologists, they would end up teasing it out of me, when exploring the causes of my depression, and in any case the treatment I would receive would not be based on accurate information, and would therefore likely not be very effective.
So I'm stuck in a rut: a major causal factor of my depression (the loneliness and helplessness at the reality of live without love) is something about which I cannot discuss with a professional. I'm therefore doomed to suffer from this affliction for the remainder of my life. I'm tired of feeling like this all of the time, and ending my life wouldn't be taking very much away from me. I'm not very close to my family, so I don't believe my death would have a large impact (although it's certainly on the list of 'cons'). Whenever I research the subject of suicide, I find the same old boring platitudes about how death is never the answer and there's always tomorrow, and I find them very uncritical: perhaps some people's prospects are so bad that they mightn't bother putting themselves through decades of misery. I'm fed up of constantly having to be dealing with these issues, and I feel like I've lived all that I'd like to.
I'm not looking for sympathy, I'd just quite like to hear some interesting, non-cliche views on suicide in relation to paraphilias (particularly paedophilia) and mood disorders. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.
Incandescence