I’ve read their stories and have my own, there is no help. Therapy, medication, mental ward visits, physical therapy, etc. don’t help. Some issues are definitely caused by society, but it is not realistically possible to change society radically enough and soon enough to help. They feel there is no help because there is indeed no help, I also hold this view for myself.
I am not talking about someone going through a breakup reacting on impulse, I mean people who have been mentally ill for years. People with chronic conditions. People who are in pain.
I am not talking about someone going through a breakup reacting on impulse, I mean people who have been mentally ill for years. People with chronic conditions. People who are in pain.
And very politely assumed I’m not one of those people, not presumptuous at all.
I’ve been tossed out of an ER after I told the psychiatrist I was afraid I might hurt myself or others. Literally, verbatim (albeit in Finnish.) He said, “don’t try to make that my responsibility”. Like, fuck, that’s literally in his job description. He got a guard to escort me out. I rang a crisis holine. They hang up on me, saying I didn’t have a crisis. All this after I had waited in an empty room without food for 7 hours, waiting for that pick of a psychiatrist on call to laze back to work. And they didn’t even tell me “he won’t be in for hours”, when they knew perfectly well.
Then another time I was denied my prescription medication while in police custody. I was kept in a cell for three days without them telling me what’s going on, how long, why, and even fucking cutting off my water at one point. A literal crime against humanity. Ate my finger open and wrote >300 words in my own blood on the walls. I got a picture of the cell somewhere. They accused me of vandalising the cell. I tried getting the video material from my time in the cell to prove their gross negligence. They “lost it”.
My family doesn’t even contact me. Haven’t worked in several years. Had to move from school to school as a kid because of my mom, never had time to form long term relationships even though I make friends rather easily.
A few years ago, I would’ve definitely agreed with you. I’m a stubborn person, and it FELT like I had exhausted all my options and no-one was willing to help. That’s an exaggeration of course, as is your absolute. And true, the doctors didn’t help shit, family and friends nonexistent, the one friend who I had who could’ve helped lost a daughter, so can’t really blame him for not being able to help others.
I was genuinely considering suicide everyday, and had there been an easy way to do it, I probably would’ve. If not for nothing else, then to make every single fuck of those “not my problem” fucks feel at least a little guilty for not doing more. Like my mom. I would’ve loved to see her face when she heard I killed myself. Might sound uncaring, because you don’t understand how uncaring my mother is, and that lack of care is what I’ve been talking to her about and she just represses and outright ignores it. So having screamed about suicidal ideation to her probably would’ve made her feel at least a little bit guilty for not simply calling me to prevent me from killing myself.
But I don’t feel like that now. Because I’m a stubborn as fuck person and didn’t kill myself out of spite, because I wouldn’t get to see what happens. So after years of being convinced my illness has a physical basis, I found one. A rather small thing, non-celiac gluten sensitivity.
But it’s not well understood, and has weird connections to behaviour.
All I know is while I used to laugh at all the “gluten free is a fad” jokes, I now don’t find them funny after understanding just how much influence a simple fucking protein in my diet can have on the functioning of my nervous system. That being the system that houses this consciousness that’s writing to you and not wishing that badly to kill themselves amymore.
Like did I get help from the systems and people who were supposed to care and help? No. Did they actively act against my best interests by ignoring my pleas for help? Yes they did. Did that make me want to kill myself even more? Yes, it did.
But did it mean there was no help to be had, anywhere, as an absolute? Seeing how I now feel less like killing myself, seems it doesn’t follow that no help was available. I just had to find it myself, on accident, after literally several decades of complaining about that issue.
I also chose a therapist who’s not Finnish on purpose, so they understand how the entire culture is affecting me, and I feel validated by them. So while it hasn’t been a huge help, it’s definitely a help going there weekly.
But perhaps I still don’t belong to those “people in pain” who you speak about who FEEL like there is no help.
I’ve read their stories and have my own, there is no help. Therapy, medication, mental ward visits, physical therapy, etc. don’t help. Some issues are definitely caused by society, but it is not realistically possible to change society radically enough and soon enough to help. They feel there is no help because there is indeed no help, I also hold this view for myself.
I am not talking about someone going through a breakup reacting on impulse, I mean people who have been mentally ill for years. People with chronic conditions. People who are in pain.
And very politely assumed I’m not one of those people, not presumptuous at all.
I’ve been tossed out of an ER after I told the psychiatrist I was afraid I might hurt myself or others. Literally, verbatim (albeit in Finnish.) He said, “don’t try to make that my responsibility”. Like, fuck, that’s literally in his job description. He got a guard to escort me out. I rang a crisis holine. They hang up on me, saying I didn’t have a crisis. All this after I had waited in an empty room without food for 7 hours, waiting for that pick of a psychiatrist on call to laze back to work. And they didn’t even tell me “he won’t be in for hours”, when they knew perfectly well.
Then another time I was denied my prescription medication while in police custody. I was kept in a cell for three days without them telling me what’s going on, how long, why, and even fucking cutting off my water at one point. A literal crime against humanity. Ate my finger open and wrote >300 words in my own blood on the walls. I got a picture of the cell somewhere. They accused me of vandalising the cell. I tried getting the video material from my time in the cell to prove their gross negligence. They “lost it”.
My family doesn’t even contact me. Haven’t worked in several years. Had to move from school to school as a kid because of my mom, never had time to form long term relationships even though I make friends rather easily.
A few years ago, I would’ve definitely agreed with you. I’m a stubborn person, and it FELT like I had exhausted all my options and no-one was willing to help. That’s an exaggeration of course, as is your absolute. And true, the doctors didn’t help shit, family and friends nonexistent, the one friend who I had who could’ve helped lost a daughter, so can’t really blame him for not being able to help others.
I was genuinely considering suicide everyday, and had there been an easy way to do it, I probably would’ve. If not for nothing else, then to make every single fuck of those “not my problem” fucks feel at least a little guilty for not doing more. Like my mom. I would’ve loved to see her face when she heard I killed myself. Might sound uncaring, because you don’t understand how uncaring my mother is, and that lack of care is what I’ve been talking to her about and she just represses and outright ignores it. So having screamed about suicidal ideation to her probably would’ve made her feel at least a little bit guilty for not simply calling me to prevent me from killing myself.
But I don’t feel like that now. Because I’m a stubborn as fuck person and didn’t kill myself out of spite, because I wouldn’t get to see what happens. So after years of being convinced my illness has a physical basis, I found one. A rather small thing, non-celiac gluten sensitivity.
But it’s not well understood, and has weird connections to behaviour.
All I know is while I used to laugh at all the “gluten free is a fad” jokes, I now don’t find them funny after understanding just how much influence a simple fucking protein in my diet can have on the functioning of my nervous system. That being the system that houses this consciousness that’s writing to you and not wishing that badly to kill themselves amymore.
Like did I get help from the systems and people who were supposed to care and help? No. Did they actively act against my best interests by ignoring my pleas for help? Yes they did. Did that make me want to kill myself even more? Yes, it did.
But did it mean there was no help to be had, anywhere, as an absolute? Seeing how I now feel less like killing myself, seems it doesn’t follow that no help was available. I just had to find it myself, on accident, after literally several decades of complaining about that issue.
I also chose a therapist who’s not Finnish on purpose, so they understand how the entire culture is affecting me, and I feel validated by them. So while it hasn’t been a huge help, it’s definitely a help going there weekly.
But perhaps I still don’t belong to those “people in pain” who you speak about who FEEL like there is no help.
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