S
This may or may not be in the right place, however I have written and rewritten this lots as it still reads like a jumble to me. I hope that maybe someone can relate to this word salad.
There is a blatant hypocrisy happening in the world of mental health. We see it more and more in the news and on every avenue of entertainment; Mental Health is a BIG deal these days. People are creating charities left right and centre in order to help combat the epidemic of people suffering from debilitating mental health issues. The word on the street and on the television is clear, Mental Health is no longer a laughing matter, whether you're a 12 year Army Vet or a child, you should be taken seriously and awarded cheap / free access to all you need to get you on the mend. From pledges of investment from celebrities, fund raising campaigns, Political movements, Days dedicated to the cause and a growing demand for world Governments to tackle the issue seriously it seems like all is going in the right direction.
Well, until you actually go out and look for advice and help for problems that don't fit into the general public's idea of 'Mental Health'. For you see, the general public has been conditioned to believe that people with mental health issues are largely wonderful people with a slightly intrusive problem (Depressed people are just sad but otherwise nice, OCD is just a rather annoying quirk etc etc) When they go out to campaign for mental health they all envisage that same thing; Some hot teenage thot with anxiety or some preppy model guy that's a little down in the dumps (but it as totally sexy brooding sort of way) and they think that they're going to be the saviour of these 'damaged' people (and hopefully get laid as a result). They view it all as some fluffy and cuddly experience, after all, these people are victims and therefore want nothing more than to be saved...they think with righteous indignation.
This is more of a rant, of my experience with mental health and how this newly accommodating world has helped me.
Aged 15- I was seldom waking up, spending upwards of 18 hours a day in bed, sleeping. I was missing school and my relationship with my family had been all but destroyed. I was eventually convinced to go and see someone. I reluctantly went along and was simply told that I was young and would grow out of it. I wasn't offered any advice and was actually belittled once because I missed an appointment. The therapist was naturally a woman. All she was concerned about was getting her money at the end of each session and spent the vast majority of her time extrapolating on random tid-bits she'd clearly read on some internet article about teenagers. Needless to say, I never 'grew out of it'. I failed my final school exams some time later and wasn't working.
Aged 18- I finally had a menial job. I had no confidence and everyone spoke to me like a child, I had no friends and in turn attempted to make none. I became secluded and bitter. I watched people enjoying their lives and making plans but I was stuck in a perpetual cycle of self hatred and resentment at everyone. I found some solace in Runescape, I very simple browser based game, I became addicted and lost my job over it since I was now playing it upwards of 18-19 hours day. I wasn't eating correctly and lost weight to an unhealthy degree, I was starting to suffer from random blackouts due to poor nutrition / lack of rest and sleep. I was a mess in both physical and mental terms. I was still miserable but the occasional 'level up' announcement. My parents had all but lost hope in me, I was now a ghost in my own family home. In what I presume was a cry for help I sought mental health help in the form of another therapist. This was met with a strange reluctance from myself once I was sitting in his office. He was asking a series of questions that all seemed to presume that I was an otherwise very sociable person that was suffering 'on the side' as it were, this was inaccurate, I was suffering full-time. With no recourse in my life beyond a simple video game I didn't know what to say, so I lied. I told him I had friends, a job and a good home life. He cancelled our next appointment because I didn't need it. My fault.
Aged 25- I had gradually sorted my shit out. I went and resat all my exams, doing incredibly well. I had also attended university and graduated. My relationship with my parents was great, I was living from the outside a very fulfilling life. Internally I was a mess. I was having problems sleeping, I was under / overeating. I had developed an addiction to spending money I didn't have. I would buy things I didn't want just so I'd struggle with money, I got excited by the idea of ruining my life. Gambling became huge for me, but not for money. I'd sit at home alone and roll a dice, 1-3 nothing happens, 4-6 and I'd inflict some kind of pain on myself, thanks to this I now have a myriad of burn scars running over places on my body that are covered (shoulders, upper arms etc). I wasn't doing this for attention, I found a gentle calming yet highly thrilling rush from this game. Eventually I scrapped the dice and it just devolved into regular self harm. I found myself screaming until my throat hurt or I had no energy to continue, for reasons I cannot recall. I would dip and dive between states of elated glee (I was very productive here, getting lots done) and phases of almost manic sadness (I would sabotage myself, I once deleted a 9000 word story I had been working on or I would spend more money than I had). I had a deep burning desire within myself that I wanted to impress my own importance upon people. During a particularly calming moment I sought help again. I went along to the Doctors office and I explained everything as calmly as a person would while reading out a shopping list. The Dr sat there for a moment then started bleeting on about some random 'prescribed' questions that had nothing to do with anything. I felt somewhat robbed, cheated almost, by a system that claimed and yelled from the rooftops how serious it was taking mental health yet had no time to address me as an individual. I wasn't 'right', I didn't 'fit' into the idea of a victim of mental health so I was cast aside.
Aged 29- Still sitting here in much the same place as I always have been. I've grown distantly bored with the current trend of foids creating Youtube channels to remark on how lonely they are or how they have social anxiety yet have no issues making Youtube videos for millions to see. I still self harm and cannot remember the last time I was genuinely happy. Depression (If I even have it) isn't being sad, it's being absent of life, existing in a limbo of numb emotions and weary actions, living to live and nothing more, with the only true discernible feelings being that of disgust in myself and others, envy and greed. I tried at points to reach out for help some more...making posts on various health forums...all of which banned me as apparently my posts contained disturbing content that offended the other users. I even tried on Reddit of all places however I was banned. I phoned a health line that cut me off. I was flat out told by a therapist that he wouldn't work with me. People don't want to help those suffering with problems...they want to save desperate souls that they consider worth saving. They want to lend a hand to the single mum, the shy teen and the down-and-out dad with as heart of gold. They don't want to help people like me, many consider that I deserve my misery.
The biggest Blackpill for me was that I was broken in an unacceptable way for society to fix.
There is a blatant hypocrisy happening in the world of mental health. We see it more and more in the news and on every avenue of entertainment; Mental Health is a BIG deal these days. People are creating charities left right and centre in order to help combat the epidemic of people suffering from debilitating mental health issues. The word on the street and on the television is clear, Mental Health is no longer a laughing matter, whether you're a 12 year Army Vet or a child, you should be taken seriously and awarded cheap / free access to all you need to get you on the mend. From pledges of investment from celebrities, fund raising campaigns, Political movements, Days dedicated to the cause and a growing demand for world Governments to tackle the issue seriously it seems like all is going in the right direction.
Well, until you actually go out and look for advice and help for problems that don't fit into the general public's idea of 'Mental Health'. For you see, the general public has been conditioned to believe that people with mental health issues are largely wonderful people with a slightly intrusive problem (Depressed people are just sad but otherwise nice, OCD is just a rather annoying quirk etc etc) When they go out to campaign for mental health they all envisage that same thing; Some hot teenage thot with anxiety or some preppy model guy that's a little down in the dumps (but it as totally sexy brooding sort of way) and they think that they're going to be the saviour of these 'damaged' people (and hopefully get laid as a result). They view it all as some fluffy and cuddly experience, after all, these people are victims and therefore want nothing more than to be saved...they think with righteous indignation.
This is more of a rant, of my experience with mental health and how this newly accommodating world has helped me.
Aged 15- I was seldom waking up, spending upwards of 18 hours a day in bed, sleeping. I was missing school and my relationship with my family had been all but destroyed. I was eventually convinced to go and see someone. I reluctantly went along and was simply told that I was young and would grow out of it. I wasn't offered any advice and was actually belittled once because I missed an appointment. The therapist was naturally a woman. All she was concerned about was getting her money at the end of each session and spent the vast majority of her time extrapolating on random tid-bits she'd clearly read on some internet article about teenagers. Needless to say, I never 'grew out of it'. I failed my final school exams some time later and wasn't working.
Aged 18- I finally had a menial job. I had no confidence and everyone spoke to me like a child, I had no friends and in turn attempted to make none. I became secluded and bitter. I watched people enjoying their lives and making plans but I was stuck in a perpetual cycle of self hatred and resentment at everyone. I found some solace in Runescape, I very simple browser based game, I became addicted and lost my job over it since I was now playing it upwards of 18-19 hours day. I wasn't eating correctly and lost weight to an unhealthy degree, I was starting to suffer from random blackouts due to poor nutrition / lack of rest and sleep. I was a mess in both physical and mental terms. I was still miserable but the occasional 'level up' announcement. My parents had all but lost hope in me, I was now a ghost in my own family home. In what I presume was a cry for help I sought mental health help in the form of another therapist. This was met with a strange reluctance from myself once I was sitting in his office. He was asking a series of questions that all seemed to presume that I was an otherwise very sociable person that was suffering 'on the side' as it were, this was inaccurate, I was suffering full-time. With no recourse in my life beyond a simple video game I didn't know what to say, so I lied. I told him I had friends, a job and a good home life. He cancelled our next appointment because I didn't need it. My fault.
Aged 25- I had gradually sorted my shit out. I went and resat all my exams, doing incredibly well. I had also attended university and graduated. My relationship with my parents was great, I was living from the outside a very fulfilling life. Internally I was a mess. I was having problems sleeping, I was under / overeating. I had developed an addiction to spending money I didn't have. I would buy things I didn't want just so I'd struggle with money, I got excited by the idea of ruining my life. Gambling became huge for me, but not for money. I'd sit at home alone and roll a dice, 1-3 nothing happens, 4-6 and I'd inflict some kind of pain on myself, thanks to this I now have a myriad of burn scars running over places on my body that are covered (shoulders, upper arms etc). I wasn't doing this for attention, I found a gentle calming yet highly thrilling rush from this game. Eventually I scrapped the dice and it just devolved into regular self harm. I found myself screaming until my throat hurt or I had no energy to continue, for reasons I cannot recall. I would dip and dive between states of elated glee (I was very productive here, getting lots done) and phases of almost manic sadness (I would sabotage myself, I once deleted a 9000 word story I had been working on or I would spend more money than I had). I had a deep burning desire within myself that I wanted to impress my own importance upon people. During a particularly calming moment I sought help again. I went along to the Doctors office and I explained everything as calmly as a person would while reading out a shopping list. The Dr sat there for a moment then started bleeting on about some random 'prescribed' questions that had nothing to do with anything. I felt somewhat robbed, cheated almost, by a system that claimed and yelled from the rooftops how serious it was taking mental health yet had no time to address me as an individual. I wasn't 'right', I didn't 'fit' into the idea of a victim of mental health so I was cast aside.
Aged 29- Still sitting here in much the same place as I always have been. I've grown distantly bored with the current trend of foids creating Youtube channels to remark on how lonely they are or how they have social anxiety yet have no issues making Youtube videos for millions to see. I still self harm and cannot remember the last time I was genuinely happy. Depression (If I even have it) isn't being sad, it's being absent of life, existing in a limbo of numb emotions and weary actions, living to live and nothing more, with the only true discernible feelings being that of disgust in myself and others, envy and greed. I tried at points to reach out for help some more...making posts on various health forums...all of which banned me as apparently my posts contained disturbing content that offended the other users. I even tried on Reddit of all places however I was banned. I phoned a health line that cut me off. I was flat out told by a therapist that he wouldn't work with me. People don't want to help those suffering with problems...they want to save desperate souls that they consider worth saving. They want to lend a hand to the single mum, the shy teen and the down-and-out dad with as heart of gold. They don't want to help people like me, many consider that I deserve my misery.
The biggest Blackpill for me was that I was broken in an unacceptable way for society to fix.
