Permanent solution to a permanent problem.

I have absolutely had it with this world. This society. The sheep that live around me. The doctors so greedy for money that they slap a label on me, without doing proper investigation, that follows me for the rest of my life. Let me elaborate a bit.

At 16 years old, I was having trouble coping with the pressures of adolescence and growing up in an abusive home. One day the pain became too much to bear and I broke down. I was taken to a mental hospital. (Of course a mental hospital. Because people in this day and age are too self-absorbed to HELP a person in need THEMSELVES. Ship ’em off to a facility if they’re sad.) I was diagnosed with “major depression” and forced to take drugs. Drugs that made me even worse than I was originally. The label of “depression” and the terrible mistake I made of agreeing to be admitted into the hospital, later cost me job and educational opportunities.

Let me go a bit off track here. The psychiatric and psychotherapy communities. I am absolutely sick and tired of their eagerness to diagnose anyone who isn’t happy 100 percent of the time with some kind of disorder. I’m sick and tired of them, period. These people do not respect the basic rights of the individual. They drill it into our heads that everyone who thinks of suicide is mentally ill. No, not everyone is. Ever hear of rational suicide? When a person, using logical reasons, decides that suicide is the correct thing to do in the face of little or no hope of improvement in their life. They have a belief that all suicides should be prevented, even when it is merciful to let the person die. Since when does anyone else have any say over what anyone does with their body? They will lock someone up (even without credible evidence), deprive them of their liberty, and keep them as long as possible to milk their insurance policies. Not only does this prevent people who are “on the fence” of suicide from seeking help, due to the fear of loss of liberty, but it gives friends and family members of the suicidal person leverage against them in conflicts. (“I’m going to have you thrown in the mental ward if you don’t do X, you nutcase!”) If they get sick of that individual all they have to do is call the police and claim they were having an episode, and they’re gone. They will put “patients” on controversial drugs, without disclosing that the drugs could cause serious damage.  All for money from the pharmaceutical companies. No wholesome solutions that actually work come from these people. I specifically requested a doctor that used other methods beside drugs for my outpatient therapy, and they refused to discharge me until I changed my mind. I did not want to become a ZOMBIE on DRUGS. I wanted real tools to help me cope, not chemicals to numb the pain. But that wasn’t good enough.

I figured all this garbage out shortly after my first breakdown and began to internalize my feelings, because I KNEW that I would be robbed of another precious two weeks of life if I dared open my mouth again. The outpatient doctor had no clue what in the hell he was doing. He changed my diagnosis and drugs seemingly every three weeks. Eventually I got fed up with it and stopped going.

Talk therapy didn’t help a smidgen. It seemed the whole time the therapist was attempting to get me to admit to having suicidal thoughts so I could be admitted again. Admitted patients = kickbacks for therapists and doctors. I wasn’t buying it.

Since then, the stigma of my “mental illness” has made it difficult for me. I’m now a grown woman and my life has gotten progressively worse. The coping skills I never developed, nor had the assistance in developing, proved to be essential in my first year of college. Too bad I didn’t have them. I felt like an absolute failure. I could no longer receive federal loans because I dropped out of too many classes due to stress.

In the year following, I moved several hundred miles away from the family that tormented me all my life, in an attempt to start fresh. I was stuck in a minimum wage job with no hope of advancement, in an unending cycle of poverty. I then thought about serving in the military, as they could give me a good job and pay for an education. I was so happy about this… until I found out that my hospitalization for “mental illness” permanently disqualified me. Super. I would not hurt a fly, but I am lumped in with those who get guns and shoot innocent people. My family wouldn’t give me a dime to help, even though at that time I was more than ready for the challenge of university again.

Those are only my personal problems. What gets me more than anything is the way human beings in general act and think. Corporations who profit from Chinese people making nine cents an hour. Teen pregnancy, drug addiction, alcoholism, and empty, meaningless lives being glorified on television. People who think they should be able to take more than they put in. People with absolutely no problems with hurting others. Anyone and everyone thinking you owe them something. The fact that it costs more to treat cancer or get a decent education than to buy a Ferrari. The general consensus that being sad is a disorder and if you are not happy all the time there is something wrong with you. Drug violence. Rape. Domestic abuse. War. Greed. Infidelity. Discrimination. Hate. Intolerance. Racism. Dishonesty. All those plus the disgusting sheeple that follow along with it. You mean to tell me that we are an advanced species? Oh, spare me. I am so disgusted by the human race at this point that pictures of babies with cancer do not even phase me anymore. Even the innocent smile of an infant does not touch me, as I know that infant will grow up to be another asshole adult. Although I would never actively hurt anyone but myself, I could care less for anyone’s suffering. I’ve lost faith in our species.

This, dear readers, is why I chose suicide. This is not a world I want to live in. No friends. No family. No romantic partner, ever. No education or hope for one. No decent job prospects. And having to live among immoral, unscrupulous savages. I’ve weighed the pros and cons of dying, objectively, and the pros won out.

I wanted to change the world. But I cannot. I am powerless because of the discrimination against individuals like me. I had so much to offer. I was a genius. Got a near-perfect SAT score. Always complimented for my diction and mathematical abilities. So much love in my heart. But a doctor’s opinion and the chain reaction it caused took it all away and threw it in the trash. I am but a powerless soul trapped in a husk, with no way out.

It is time for me to go.

“Like a leaf on the wind… see how I soar.”