Sunday, 15 January 2023

Sad girl post (I suppose we all have 'em)...

I've decided something - I'm giving it 10 years.  If by 50, if I don't feel recovered, I am going to consider medically assisted dying for "mental illness".

I am just really fucking tired.  I am tired of living in a situation in which no drug works for me to take the edge off (because it's not the same disorder as they say it is), it bothers me that no one knows what to say, where I have to walk around with a rosary tied to my wrist in case I have to drop everything to pray to rid myself of the feeling of being attacked by evil spirits, I am sick of condescending, humiliating medical types and their trite advice, of uncaring ODSP workers who don't do their job, of police officers around the corner at all hours, who would sooner shoot me dead than protect me if something went wrong and I seemed the least bit out of it in public.  I have a medical chart that is a complete mess, I don't have the money to get my life sorted out easily, or even hop on a plane bound for the Caribbean once a year, just to keep sane.  I have enough to break even and maybe treat myself here and there, but mostly I am in agony and I lie around in deep contemplation, unaware of how to proceed.  I live in a psychological hell that is impossible to escape.

I think for now I might check into CAMH soon, even though they offer little more than gentle oppression and bad food, but I'm suffering from "inner city pressure" and I don't know what else to do, because, again, I am just a poor woman, no one really cares about me except for other poor people.  No one has any good answers, I can't afford to see my analyst more than I am able to these days, and I don't want to bother anyone else with my problems when they are all miserable themselves.  I have learned the best way to be liked by others is to blend in by not complaining about anything, by pretending that all is well, and to not ask for help.  I say this because when I do ask for help, it's never real help, it's embarrassing and just adds to a miserable profile of my character that psychiatrists will never change.

It's controversial that people are starting to get medically assisted dying for mental health reasons, but I can't help but feel it's inevitable in this society, the way things are looking in our world.  Though I want to cling to hope that there are finer days ahead, I am just getting older and wearier, with no one around who knows what to say, and no magic answer.  I wish I had a loving partner, but no one wants a girlfriend who isn't going to be a dirty slut in the bedroom, no matter what they like about her in the streets.  That's the vibe of men in Toronto.

So, new rule... 10 years.  Then I re-examine the MAiD idea.

"Inner City Pressure" - Flight of the Conchords


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