The more I tried to get help and was honest, it would seem that I hit some sort of systemic punishment. Over the years my diagnosis are getting longer, treating physicians are saying I’m too sick to be accepted, and I seem to get punished by care providers when I’m trying my best. I even went to the best facility in the US for an extraordinarily extended period of time. In the end, I learned that I could not speak my truth and was often demoralized at my attempts to combat my suicidality. Why am I the one to blame when the treatments are not working? I am left feeling worse about myself alongside a growing sense of shame, hopelessness, loneliness, and doom.
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maybe youre looking in the wrong place, in the wrong direction. what “treatments” are you trying? pills, talk? sounds like you have the money to get well. wish i did.
Money doesn’t mean a thing with mental health. Society is broken. Society calls the mentally ill the broken ones, but how others deal with us is what’s broken, not us. We aren’t what you want? Here, have a pill. Still not up to par? Have another one. And another, and another, and another, until all we are are shadows of who we could have been. There is no right place to look for help.