My dad, once a brilliant rocket scientist is now a full-on MAGA disciple, and in the past few years (when I was still arguing politics with him) he started submitting FOX News talking points as if they were his own.
I’m on suicide watch this year.
Okay, I should clarify, so as not to scare:
spoiler
Some really bad life-altering shit happened in November 2024, and I wasn’t prepared for it. This includes the 2024 General Election, in which 77 million people voted for the let’s-do-a-holocaust guy, who campaigned on nothing less than a coup d’etat and a massive purge of undesirables. So far, he’s following through.
Human beings are expendable, according to the people that are held up by society as inspirational. The mere existence of CECOT tells me that I was just plumb born to the wrong species.
The chart below (courtesy of the CDC) shows where I am. It’s not actually that uncommon right now for people in the United States to gravely consider whether it’s worth suffering existence, and wondering if they’re needed enough to justify their resource footprint.
My suicidal ideation is continuous (at least once every hour, which is off the charts for most suicide treatment programs) but it is passive: It’d be better if I never existed; It’d be convenient if I slipped down the stairs, or if one of the countless motorists in Sacramento could do me the service of running a red at freeway speeds. I have a number scale regarding my suicidality. Since 2015, it’s averaged 3 or 4, and this year it’s at 6-7. On medications / coming down from medications, it has gotten up to 9.5
There are still some persons (including my cat and my dog) who need me, but at the point I can no longer care for them (say, if they get killed by ICE before a SWAT raid, or if my benefits are cut) then it’s high time to look for the emergency exits and escape the burning building.
I’m still open for other causes to chase or reasons to live, but ten months later, I’m still mad enough for tea 🐰🎩🫖☕🎀, managing with a post-COVID-19-lockdown psych-sector. That is, overrun with patients and burned out. I can’t tell if my treatment providers are just too busy or they don’t care. Maybe they can’t afford to care.
In the meantime I’m watching the institutions of my society, a nation and community I believed in, get smashed to rubble or worse, subverted by a kleptocracy that steals for profit and uses force to hunt political enemies and bogey-men
It’s not a great time to be trying to unfuck my head, and not a bad time to be a raving lunatic. 🐺🌕
To be fair, I knew he was a bastard in 2003 when evidence of the CIA extrajudicial detention and torture enhanced interrogation program was published and came to a head. Staunch Republicans were party-signaling by announcing that torture of terrorists was right and proper, and waterboarding wasn’t really torture. My dad made such assertions, and went on to say all CIA captives were organized terrorists and guilty of violence (entirely untrue, but we wouldn’t know that for a couple of years). At the time I didn’t know about the Scharff interrogation techniques that informed US methods since WWII (Named after Luftwaffe Master Interrogator Hanns Scharff). We haven’t yet seen the full U.S. Senate report on CIA torture, incidentally, and I’m still sore about it.
My father really does deserve a corpse of a son, and I’m still striving to choose other than giving him one.
I’m too old (and gentle, actually) to become Hugo Stiglitz once the civil war comes, but if my fury, resentment and disappointment were given material form, it’d look something like that.
I don’t know if I am suicidal or not but I do wish I didn’t exist, almost daily and that too very elaborate, like eating a bullet and meeting the pavement head first from a height and I am very mentally disturbed, like when I am depressed really I imagine myself rotting in dumpyard:::
And I ask myself why am I living? The only answer I get is, myself. Thinking about politics and the worsening state of affairs just make me want to day dream about ww3 and post apoc situations … and see worsening mental health
Yeah, in my case ECT (shock treatment for the layfolk. Zapping my brain.) is on the table, and the research I’ve done on it is not reassuring that they know what they’re doing.
So I’ve thought about this at extreeeeeeeme length and with a philosophy background could probably argue before a judge… assuming the court wasn’t corrupt.
If they do I’ll regard it as suicide-lite: They’re destroying parts of my brain so that my behavior is less offensive. I’m sure I’ll love Big Brother will all my heart.
Ernest Hemingway and David Foster Wallace both got ECT, and decided they didn’t like who they were after the fact, eventually taking their lives. So if I go that route, it will be an absolute last resort.
My dad, once a brilliant rocket scientist is now a full-on MAGA disciple, and in the past few years (when I was still arguing politics with him) he started submitting FOX News talking points as if they were his own.
I’m on suicide watch this year.
Okay, I should clarify, so as not to scare:
spoiler
Some really bad life-altering shit happened in November 2024, and I wasn’t prepared for it. This includes the 2024 General Election, in which 77 million people voted for the let’s-do-a-holocaust guy, who campaigned on nothing less than a coup d’etat and a massive purge of undesirables. So far, he’s following through.
Human beings are expendable, according to the people that are held up by society as inspirational. The mere existence of CECOT tells me that I was just plumb born to the wrong species.
The chart below (courtesy of the CDC) shows where I am. It’s not actually that uncommon right now for people in the United States to gravely consider whether it’s worth suffering existence, and wondering if they’re needed enough to justify their resource footprint.
My suicidal ideation is continuous (at least once every hour, which is off the charts for most suicide treatment programs) but it is passive: It’d be better if I never existed; It’d be convenient if I slipped down the stairs, or if one of the countless motorists in Sacramento could do me the service of running a red at freeway speeds. I have a number scale regarding my suicidality. Since 2015, it’s averaged 3 or 4, and this year it’s at 6-7. On medications / coming down from medications, it has gotten up to 9.5
There are still some persons (including my cat and my dog) who need me, but at the point I can no longer care for them (say, if they get killed by ICE before a SWAT raid, or if my benefits are cut) then it’s high time to look for the emergency exits and escape the burning building.
I’m still open for other causes to chase or reasons to live, but ten months later, I’m still mad enough for tea 🐰🎩🫖☕🎀, managing with a post-COVID-19-lockdown psych-sector. That is, overrun with patients and burned out. I can’t tell if my treatment providers are just too busy or they don’t care. Maybe they can’t afford to care.
In the meantime I’m watching the institutions of my society, a nation and community I believed in, get smashed to rubble or worse, subverted by a kleptocracy that steals for profit and uses force to hunt political enemies and bogey-men
It’s not a great time to be trying to unfuck my head, and not a bad time to be a raving lunatic. 🐺🌕
To be fair, I knew he was a bastard in 2003 when evidence of the CIA extrajudicial detention and
tortureenhanced interrogation program was published and came to a head. Staunch Republicans were party-signaling by announcing that torture of terrorists was right and proper, and waterboarding wasn’t really torture. My dad made such assertions, and went on to say all CIA captives were organized terrorists and guilty of violence (entirely untrue, but we wouldn’t know that for a couple of years). At the time I didn’t know about the Scharff interrogation techniques that informed US methods since WWII (Named after Luftwaffe Master Interrogator Hanns Scharff). We haven’t yet seen the full U.S. Senate report on CIA torture, incidentally, and I’m still sore about it.My father really does deserve a corpse of a son, and I’m still striving to choose other than giving him one.
I’m too old (and gentle, actually) to become Hugo Stiglitz once the civil war comes, but if my fury, resentment and disappointment were given material form, it’d look something like that.
brother your vent is way too influential ngl.
:::Depression rant, a little graphic
I don’t know if I am suicidal or not but I do wish I didn’t exist, almost daily and that too very elaborate, like eating a bullet and meeting the pavement head first from a height and I am very mentally disturbed, like when I am depressed really I imagine myself rotting in dumpyard:::
And I ask myself why am I living? The only answer I get is, myself. Thinking about politics and the worsening state of affairs just make me want to day dream about ww3 and post apoc situations … and see worsening mental health
Yeah, in my case ECT (shock treatment for the layfolk. Zapping my brain.) is on the table, and the research I’ve done on it is not reassuring that they know what they’re doing.
So I’ve thought about this at extreeeeeeeme length and with a philosophy background could probably argue before a judge… assuming the court wasn’t corrupt.
If they do I’ll regard it as suicide-lite: They’re destroying parts of my brain so that my behavior is less offensive. I’m sure I’ll love Big Brother will all my heart.
Ernest Hemingway and David Foster Wallace both got ECT, and decided they didn’t like who they were after the fact, eventually taking their lives. So if I go that route, it will be an absolute last resort.