As an asexual.
I wish that I could say that I'm happy with this revelation, but it has only left me feeling even more isolated. The prospect of never having a relationship or a family is disheartening enough, but the thought of dying alone - forgotten - is almost unbearable. Could this really be my ultimate reward for enduring the hell that my own brain has subjected me to all these years? For endlessly fighting a losing battle against mental illness?
Well. I always have the option of cutting it short. A rather strange and grim comfort, I suppose, but It's all I have for the time being.