I did and became an actuary.
I had lost most of my human relationships due to depression. All I had left in life was a useless English degree, a wageslave job and a messy basement I lived in at my dying aunts house.
I knew I was on the brink of suicide when I would just daydream about dying all the time. But I didn't wanna just randomly splash my brains out cuz I was super sad one day. What a waste of perfectly fine flesh. I wanted to earn my death.
I quit my job, bought a glock from a pawnshop and drove around the US. I'd just go to nature parks and hang out, bathe in rivers and ponds. Stare at the sky for days on end. I decided I had to do something hard. If I could not find freedom and happiness in this life then the glock was the ticket off this ride.
I found a soaking wet statistics textbook on a park bench and I just got super mad that I could not understand a fucking thing in that motherfucking book. Rest is history.
that was 12 years ago. My aunt is still alive, miserable bitch that she is.
I'm married with a kid now. I'm very happy and upper middle class as fuck.
I still have the glock.