Is this going to be another whine without cheese? Afraid so. That’s my warning. If you’re not in a position yourself to read this – please don’t. It’s not uplifting material and won’t be. It’s more about explaining why I can’t get up any more. I’ll try to be as brief as possible.
In retrospect, I understand that in 2007 my demise from the workforce was due to the accumulated outcomes of unprocessed and no longer manageable stress to my nervous system, the latter on account of complex PTSD, a condition I never knew I had been suffering from, but always, always felt that there was something substantially different about me, something so different that it separated me from the bulk of people in very basic, vital ways. The isolation coming from that in itsself is reason enough to go batshit crazy – and reason to despair, of course.
Then there is the stigma and reprimand that society places on those who deviate from the mainstream in ever-so-minuscule ways. I mean – take a look around Facebook or any other social media platform and see the many posts dealing with societal causes or issues coming from a particular choice of lifestyle – they make a tsunami of user-generated content on behalf of all the things that don’t fit in 100%, be it veganism, being gay, not wanting children, being an atheist… the list goes on. Practically everything that the mainstream see as a deviation from the “agreed-on” trajectory of the majority of people – will be met with badmouthing, degradation, bullying, shunning – all the way to open violence and physical harm, sometimes even the death of an individual. So-called “mental illnesses” – and I firmly reject that wording, b.t.w! – fall into the category of being different and are being met with just about all the aforementioned. I have been doing everything in my personal power to hide the outcomes of my condition while I was still a part of that “mainstream” – apparently not to much avail. So I got singled out as early as kindergarten, then again later in High School, then on various jobs and workplaces – not to mention left by former partners and spouse time and again. There always seems to be someone who hates me and has enough influence on others to get them behind them and opposed enough to me that I finally can’t prevail (and just for the record: I never went down without a fight! But if the opinion leaders in a group have declared war upon you – you can’t win according to my experience).
So, where are we so far? Unmanageable stress due to the body wreaking havoc with blown-out-of-proportion responses to often mundane situations, isolation and stigma and bullying.
Add lack of perspective and lack of sufficient health care or sufficient access to the proper kind of care to that recipé – and you’re going to find yourself where I’m at right now: Done. Done and then some, thoroughly done, spent, over and out, finito, caput, finished. The one and only thing of which I thought it might be a bridge back to the living turns out not to work, either (music, in that case). And to ice that cake of disaster, I live in a place that offers minimal privacy, which is a total no-no for survivors of C-PTSD!
I really, really thought I’d come around. I really thought I’d find a – modest – way for myself to be(come) happy – or contented again. Whereever I look – or even go as far as trying myself – no luck. The system wants things to be this way, it is a clockwork designed to filter, dismiss and destroy those who so much as failed to come up with the the highest output of productivity for a split-second.
Carbon monooxide. I need to research this thoroughly to make sure I won’t fail with that.
Better luck next time (incarnation)!
P.S. I shouldn’t even bother. There’s a war going on in Ukraine and today’s meetings at the Munich Security Conference seem to have gone disastrous. I might not even have to do my own killing. Looks like WW III is around the corner.