
Toxic Positivity
At my own pace
- Feb 11, 2022
- 95
I am trying to take responsibility for my life. It's the hardest thing I've ever done, because it means I don't have anyone or anything to blame for everything that's gone wrong in my 30 years among people.
It's not depression. It's not childhood--it's definitely not parents. The awesome responsibility, power, tragedy, euphoria of being, that rests with me. The time for childish blaming and games and running into the arms of saviors is over. I have wrought my own fortune. Everything I have chosen is everything I have become.
I would like to become someone else. I am thankful for the love, joy, loss and attention I have shared with everyone else whose life is unfortunate enough to find themselves in a place like this. But I cannot get better here. Sanctioned Suicide is a waiting room, a kind of purgatory for me. A place to try to make alive the notion that maybe the responsibility rests not with me but with someone, something, somethings else. Or perhaps a place where I could explore the idea, play in the space, of a world in which the awesome burden of living is something that can be discarded, sent back to the Creator with a simple "no thanks." I have explored this territory and found it completely barren. It is a lifeless place, ultimately, because that is what it was crafted to be.
"Choice" is what is touted here. Here is a common response on the forum: "I respect your decision, no matter what it may be, and I hope you find peace." I hope none of you find "peace." I hope you all reckon with the dragons in your life and best them. I hope you get fucking scorched. I hope you cry helplessly on the floor, collect yourself, and choose to remain among people. I hope you soar far from and above this place when you are ready. A website called, "Sanctioned Suicide:" How could I have ever thought this was a place of possibility?
Goodbye to those who have helped me, guided me, calmed my frantic cries for help. Most of all, goodbye, and thank you, to those of you who have challenged me to think differently about the problem of suicide. Those of you who have helped me see through romantic notions of self-deliverance and "peace" (read: decomposition) that this pro-suicide hellhole promises, the lies that have been woven into it from its inception. Let's not call this place pro-choice. The users may be, but there is absolutely nothing about the design and administration of this website that does not explicitly encourage suicide, either actively or by passive culture-making. Ban me for this, I am already gone. But better, leave it up, if indeed you are "pro-choice." Leave it up so that my friends here can understand why I am offline, out somewhere in the world not navel-gazing but fighting for my fucking life. Leave it up for them.
It's not depression. It's not childhood--it's definitely not parents. The awesome responsibility, power, tragedy, euphoria of being, that rests with me. The time for childish blaming and games and running into the arms of saviors is over. I have wrought my own fortune. Everything I have chosen is everything I have become.
I would like to become someone else. I am thankful for the love, joy, loss and attention I have shared with everyone else whose life is unfortunate enough to find themselves in a place like this. But I cannot get better here. Sanctioned Suicide is a waiting room, a kind of purgatory for me. A place to try to make alive the notion that maybe the responsibility rests not with me but with someone, something, somethings else. Or perhaps a place where I could explore the idea, play in the space, of a world in which the awesome burden of living is something that can be discarded, sent back to the Creator with a simple "no thanks." I have explored this territory and found it completely barren. It is a lifeless place, ultimately, because that is what it was crafted to be.
"Choice" is what is touted here. Here is a common response on the forum: "I respect your decision, no matter what it may be, and I hope you find peace." I hope none of you find "peace." I hope you all reckon with the dragons in your life and best them. I hope you get fucking scorched. I hope you cry helplessly on the floor, collect yourself, and choose to remain among people. I hope you soar far from and above this place when you are ready. A website called, "Sanctioned Suicide:" How could I have ever thought this was a place of possibility?
Goodbye to those who have helped me, guided me, calmed my frantic cries for help. Most of all, goodbye, and thank you, to those of you who have challenged me to think differently about the problem of suicide. Those of you who have helped me see through romantic notions of self-deliverance and "peace" (read: decomposition) that this pro-suicide hellhole promises, the lies that have been woven into it from its inception. Let's not call this place pro-choice. The users may be, but there is absolutely nothing about the design and administration of this website that does not explicitly encourage suicide, either actively or by passive culture-making. Ban me for this, I am already gone. But better, leave it up, if indeed you are "pro-choice." Leave it up so that my friends here can understand why I am offline, out somewhere in the world not navel-gazing but fighting for my fucking life. Leave it up for them.