A Philosophical Debate

Let me start by saying that I'm in no immediate danger. While I might very well end my life at some point, it won't be tonight. I'm not going to act rashly and I would like to believe that I am in control of all my mental faculties.

Next I would like to point out that there is not any looming crisis that has driven me to this point. I am a 20yr old undergrad student on full scholarship at a respectable university. I have a reasonably well-paying job that I rather enjoy. I have a small circle of friends that I love dearly. From the outside, it would appear that I have my life together.

All that being said, suicide is something that has been on my mind for as long as I can remember. This includes feelings as a small child that predate my father's untimely death and my subsequent falling out with my mother. As time goes on, I progress through good periods and bad periods of my life, but in the past decade I've actively considered suicide at least once every couple of weeks, and several times daily during the bad stretches. My basic idea is this: life is hard. While I intellectually appreciate that my life could have been much worse, people have hurt me. People have let me down. Pain and suffering are a fundamental part of the human existance. The trouble is I lack a counterbalance to offset my misery.

Simply put, I don't care about anything in life. I have no interest in continuing my studies or advancing my career. I don't want to meet new people or try new things. There are people I care about in this world that likewise care about me but I can't stick around simply for their sake. I have no religious basis for my life. For the last several years I have been enduring life, hoping to find something that would give my existence some kind of significance, but I have yet to find anything.

In summary, I don't enjoy life. On a day-to-day basis my misery outweighs any fleeting amusement I might find. And thus I frequently yearn for death. Ideally I'd be diagnosed with some terminal illness that would give me a month or so to get my affairs in order, and then I could die in peace with no regrets. Is it not logical therefore to kill myself? If I am emotionally incapable of happiness, shouldn't I be euthanised like an old dog in constant physical pain? If each day is filled with miserable thoughts of suicide, would I not be better off dead? I realize that this is a horrible and irreversible decision, and thus I have staggered through life like this for years. But all sentimental feelings and moralities aside, at what point is enough, enough?

*Edit: Formatting. Long time lurker here on Reddit, this is my first actual post.