I feel like I'm losing something that was a part of my life for a big chunk of it. I'm 35. I've never had a psychiatrist for as long as I've had this one. He certainly wasn't a friend and I was always careful around him. Like the way a person is careful around another who can give you something that makes you feel better for periods of time. Namely, a benzodiazepine. So I can rest easier at night and stay calmer during the day. But I never changed anything at all. I just showed up every two weeks and talked because I had no one else to talk to - I used a psychiatrist that Medicare/Medicaid paid for - as a very poor substitute for something that barely resembled a confident. And certainly not a friend. He was always pleasant and accommodating. But that was as far as it went. I never made any effort to change. Except for a brief stint in vocational rehabilitation three years ago. That I never completed. And last year when SSA reevaluated my disability insurance for the first time in seven years, he was helpful. I got my disability that I've been collecting for half my life continued. With his help. But he's 85 and in declining health and just told me this morning at our second to last session that he's retiring next month. After a recent serious illness. He's never been to explicit or candid about himself with me because after all he is a psychiatrist. But I got the impression at the beginning of the month when I last saw him before today that he was definitely unwell. And he's been sick ever since then. At least I think. He doesn't look as put together as he used to look. I'm very sad. Mostly because his life appears to be winding down and mine feels like I never started - I'm a 35 year old man who lives with my mother in a small rundown apartment in an affluent area. I'm poor. I'm friendless. Of course, childless. No spouse or partner. No job. No money. And I have an unhealthy obsession with dying. I think about it everyday. For the last 4 years. I just want to move on to something beyond life. But there may be nothing at all beyond life. This may be 'it'. Death could be like being locked in an unfinished basement with no windows. Or like being in a cave in the side of a mountain thousands of feet above ground. Or below it. I don't think I'll ever find another private psychiatrist nowadays. None of them accept Medicare. And most don't accept any insurance at all. Cash only. Which I don't have. And the last thing I want to do is go to an outpatient clinic for Medicare patients that operates within the walls of a mental hospital. For reasons that should be obvious to anyone. It's like being in the belly of the beast. I'm scared. But mostly because I've just got nothing at all going for me. I wander the streets nearby my home most days and sit by the woods on benches. I just stare at the trees and the small amount of wildlife and wish my life was over. Then I go home at sunset. My mother, my only living family member, is in pain everyday with serious medical problems. A twisted spine. A chiropractor did it to her. He assaulted her. I feel scared for her. She's only 67 and was supposed to live to 100. I always wanted her to outlive me so I'd never be alone. But now I'm more scared than ever I could be all alone one day in the not so distance future - perhaps five or seven years. Someone help me. Please talk to me.