Je Suis Stupide

I hate feeling useless. I've been wallowing in anxiety--which, by the way, is not getting much better--but trying to regain perspective.
I am positive that my parents are not going to be impressed with this perspective-gaining, though.
I've come to the realization (well, I came to it long ago) that I and nearly everyone I know is so amazingly lucky to be where they are in life. Seriously, there are such unfortunate people out there, people who are living on less than $1 a day, to whom our lifestyle is beyond paradise and our problems beyond trivial.
There are girls who, rather than having the stress of what to wear to a party, are off selling their bodies to pay for their family's food. There are children who are forced into slavery and war. There is genocide going on, and all anyone can think about is their own damn life and their own superficial problems. People are starving to death, being beaten and killed, and there is a shockingly small amount of care in the world for it.
So while this does make me feel a lot better about my own situation, I also feel like this incredibly self-absorbed, insensitive person. And that's why I want to help people.
As soon as I'm out of college, because my parents won't have any form of leverage over me by then, I'm going to join Peace Corps or something and help people. I'll teach kids to read. I'll build houses. I'll solve problems. I'll do whatever I can to make this crazy world into a bit of a better place. Because if I die without having really helped someone in their life, my own life will have been a waste.
My parents aren't going to talk me out of this one. Nobody will. I've wanted to do this since I was about eight years old. There is too much bad going on in the world for me to sit back and live my own life without having helped someone else.
OK, I'm done ranting right now.
But I'm still serious.