There Will Be Words.

He tried to pinpoint why I was feeling the way I did. Typical. Meds. Diet. Sleep. Alcohol Consumption, if any. Anything but facing the real issue head-on. How about the fact that hearing nasty rumors, sleepless nights due to fearing the death of someone you love, largely in part due to the system itself, mental abuse etc…just flat out fucking suck?! Ever think I have a right to feel these emotions? It’s perfectly normal. This system is so fucked up. It truly is.

Pain is not pathology.

I’m left feeling invalidated, panicked, incompetent and very sick. It’s so beyond twisted. There will be words when this is all said and done. In fact there will be words tomorrow, at the risk of losing my home. I am that furious about this.

It is like Chinese water torture. Some people in my direct care are the ones keeping me sick. One comment per week adds up, and the more they assume you’re in crisis, the more likely you will be triggered into an episode. Sooner or later you’re bound to flip your lid. And then they fucking sit there and wonder, what went wrong? Blame it on us and our minds…please, I dare you!

Oh, but by all means let’s focus on the cereal on the Goddamn counter and how that directly affects my mental health, the vacuuming and please, by all means … let’s harp on the fact that I like to burn aromatherapy candles because it heals me…let’s not forget I’m too fucking incompetent handle that shit. And do tell me some more about how my writing and art are simply hobbies and that I’m incapable of working anywhere but the dollar store. Do tell.

I warned him 2 hours ahead of time that I was not in the head space to meet and let’s please reschedule. They should respect that every so often. We all have our days. Your choice. Now we’re gonna fucking talk like adults. Fumin’.

I no longer can sit here silently, peering at this from their perspective. I know they are trying to help, as individuals and (hopefully) compassionate human beings. But I assure you, they are indirectly trained to keep us locked in. There is NO MONEY IN THE CURE.

This is not just a conspiracy theory anymore. This is flat-out, undeniable TRUTH.

The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.

This is gaslighting at its most severe and I would not be so passionate had I not lost so many due to this, indirectly or directly due to side effects, alienation, suicide, addiction, spiritual death, etc..

This is not a game to me. It is serious and it’s happening.

We are not crazy.

P.S. – We can all post what we want about suicide awareness and say that we play a role in reaching out to those hurting, but until someone acknowledges our pleas, cries, valid points and empowering and uplifting stories…not much is accomplished. We aren’t doing this for attention. We are doing this because we have something burning inside of us that needs to be said. I for one, sat on an ICU bed after my first serious suicide attempt after days of reaching out and crying for help. There were 3 people who reached out after the fact, when I woke up. Not even my parents showed up to see me. That should say something. After a while, we learn not to reach out or we fake being okay, until it is too late. And I needn’t tell you how sad that is.

But it’s okay, because we’re all brainwashed to believe that our purses full of Prozac will be the cure.

But I assure you, it ain’t going to help us crawl from the depths when we, ourselves, or our loved ones are six feet under.



2 Comments Add yours

  1. bambam415 says:

    Family and friends are many times not the subject of our survival…it is within us that we survive…that constraining life force that spurs to yet another day…thank God for the breath in you…XoBarbara

    1. OnTheRocks says:

      I’m so humbled by your words today. Thank you. Truly blessed.

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