LastLoveLetter
Persephone
- Mar 28, 2021
- 657
I've said it so many times before that I feel like a broken record, but seriously, I'm done.
Since my previous post, I made a last ditch attempt to get help. Contacting mental health professionals for psychological support, trying to have my physical ailments investigated further, diagnosed and treated, trying to access any resources I possibly could. I was at the end of my tether so there was no harm in going all out and trying everything to get help. I had nothing to lose.
The result? I was constantly chasing and chasing and chasing and getting nothing in return. No support, no concern, nothing. Just empty promises and waiting lists. Nothing new.
To "get anywhere", you basically have to nearly die from an attempt. And if I were to survive, I'd end up in a psychiatric ward given temporary crisis "support" (using this term VERY loosely here), then discharged and left to rot in the exact same circumstances that make me want to die. What a fucking joke.
You know, as shitty as life has been, I wanted to give it my best shot. I've experienced extensive trauma in my life (sexual abuse, physical abuse, severe neglect, almost being killed etc). I have written about some of these things before so won't elaborate too much here. But it was pretty fucking horrendous - the type of shit you see on crime documentaries.
I still tried, perhaps against my better judgement. I cannot tell you how many times I've tried to get help for my physical and mental health conditions and been turned away, gaslit, given inappropriate and ineffective treatment and blamed when it didn't work, misdiagnosed, further abused or simply ignored.
It's the latter I'm dealing with right now. Health services are overstretched, underfunded, systemically flawed and the majority of healthcare professionals I've been speaking to also simply don't care. They don't care if I suffer. They don't care if I die. Some of them even actively make my circumstances worse.
It's as if life is goading me to end it and I'm so close to snapping, one of these days I will.
I'm drinking again, so perhaps enough alcohol will give me the extra push to jump soon. I don't even care about acquiring a new source of SN anymore. My fear of death is dwindling because the future that lies ahead is far more frightening.
Since my previous post, I made a last ditch attempt to get help. Contacting mental health professionals for psychological support, trying to have my physical ailments investigated further, diagnosed and treated, trying to access any resources I possibly could. I was at the end of my tether so there was no harm in going all out and trying everything to get help. I had nothing to lose.
The result? I was constantly chasing and chasing and chasing and getting nothing in return. No support, no concern, nothing. Just empty promises and waiting lists. Nothing new.
To "get anywhere", you basically have to nearly die from an attempt. And if I were to survive, I'd end up in a psychiatric ward given temporary crisis "support" (using this term VERY loosely here), then discharged and left to rot in the exact same circumstances that make me want to die. What a fucking joke.
You know, as shitty as life has been, I wanted to give it my best shot. I've experienced extensive trauma in my life (sexual abuse, physical abuse, severe neglect, almost being killed etc). I have written about some of these things before so won't elaborate too much here. But it was pretty fucking horrendous - the type of shit you see on crime documentaries.
I still tried, perhaps against my better judgement. I cannot tell you how many times I've tried to get help for my physical and mental health conditions and been turned away, gaslit, given inappropriate and ineffective treatment and blamed when it didn't work, misdiagnosed, further abused or simply ignored.
It's the latter I'm dealing with right now. Health services are overstretched, underfunded, systemically flawed and the majority of healthcare professionals I've been speaking to also simply don't care. They don't care if I suffer. They don't care if I die. Some of them even actively make my circumstances worse.
It's as if life is goading me to end it and I'm so close to snapping, one of these days I will.
I'm drinking again, so perhaps enough alcohol will give me the extra push to jump soon. I don't even care about acquiring a new source of SN anymore. My fear of death is dwindling because the future that lies ahead is far more frightening.