KuriGohan&Kamehameha
想死不能 - 想活不能
- Nov 23, 2020
- 1,744
Many people seem to think it is possible for anyone to have a good life regardless of what cloth they were cut from. Even when reality stares them straight in the eyes, most will refuse to acknowledge it and blame the individual for being unable to move on from what has made them suicidal in the first place.
Yesterday I watched a documentary about class divides in the education system. There was a striking difference in the mannerisms of children who went to private schools as opposed to their peers enrolled in state schools. The private school girl described her life as carefree and exploratory.
She got to dabble in lots of different activities provided to her by her posh boarding school. Things like music, drama, art, etc. Now, compare her to the state school pupil, who described herself as being impassioned/motivated in a sea of people who could care less. At every moment, she had to be focused on studying and trying to get the most out of her lessons, because there was no lifeboat coming to save her. No rich parents or talents cultivated by years of expensive hobbies.
Some of us were born unlucky and have had to meander through life on unstable foundations, just like the girl in the documentary. She eventually made it, because she had supportive teachers and parents, but many of us lack wealth in both currency and love. We are told constantly that help is out there, yet when you cry for it, there is nothing. You're told to live in the moment and forget your past, disregard the cruel circumstances that have festered over time and culminated your suicidal ideation.
Others turn a blind eye to the fact that abused, neglected children will one day become abused, neglected adults. Yet these adults are expected to function on the same level as their peers who had normal upbringings, hit every developmental milestone, and received proper love, support, and nurturing from their guardians, teachers, and friends.
Once you become 18, you're on your own. No one gives a damn about you anymore, except when you fail to make monetary contributions to society. Then, you are viewed as a defective failure and a product of your own poor decision making rather than a lifetime of turmoil perpetuated by the environment you were raised in.
This is what pisses me off so badly- when people pontificate that many of our issues are crafted by our own design, our failure to "move on" and forget years of trauma, failure, and suffering. How do they expect us to build glamorous lives when our entire existence has been spent following the blueprints for a ruddy, dilapidated, old shack providing us with meager shelter?
There are burdens in this life that must be permanently shouldered. The things we carry do not magically grow lighter. What makes the weigh more bearable (and this may not help in every case, but it would certainly be an improvement) is when others share the load with us. Yet, the collective does not want this approach. In our folly, we have created an individualised dystopia that is fueled by victim blaming, finger pointing, and stubborn denial of the absurd, random nature of life.
Disabled, traumatized, isolated, ill, and neglected people are forced to suffer, often through no fault of our own. Which is already bad enough, but then you add in the constant jeers from the public, the judgement and ostracization, and it becomes too heavy a burden to bear. I find myself often thinking what have I done to deserve this.
It feels like at every turn I am punished because I was born to parents who did not love nor want me, grew up in a small shit hole village/town, was cursed with developmental disabilities since birth, have always been an ugly girl, and then got physically ill which further dehabilitated me. Every moment of existence feels like a punishment for a crime I did not commit.
I am constantly reminded of the fact that I am alone and seen as lesser. Whether it is walking at a snail's pace to university and having impatient groups of friends push their way past me, seeing happy families through dimly lit windows as I pass through a posh neighborhood, or simply even witnessing my course mate's parents singing their praises constantly, making posts on social media about their achievements, and funding their nights on the town, I am forever reminded of the fact that I am an alien species.
When I vocalise this crippling loneliness, absolutely nobody cares. The few people who have pretended to have went back on their promises as soon as they could not squeeze more blood from the turnip. If I try speaking to university "mental health" teams they pathologize my pain and act like I am mentally ill and unable to manage my stress. I am sure they would find mindfulness worksheets super helpful if they were crippled, alone, and struggling to survive in a world that offers nothing but platitudes and empty words to the downtrodden.
I did not choose this outcome. I have been trying my entire life to overcome the circumstances of my birth. When I petitioned to be allowed to take subjects that were not offered at my very bad state funded high school- like anything relating to technogy and computing- the head of the school said I was not capable and they would not make exceptions for me. (Despite me getting a perfect grade in my self managed online class and pulling high scores on advanced subject exams)
I was constantly griped at by teachers during a period of genuine struggle, following the two years in which I was locked away in my aunt's home and mistreated daily by my father's family after my molestation by a classmate. The staff at my school had no compassion for me, even though I had only moved in with my foster family a couple months prior to this, and was heavily medicated, because I was told I was lazy and depressed. (I wasn't, I had fucking PTSD)
I wanted to make something out of my life, but no one supported me. No one believed in me. They thought I was pitiful and odd for being autistic, and struggling with memory loss and cognitive issues. Adults were only kind to me when I was successful, such as very early on in my childhood when I displayed signs of hyperlexia and the sterotypical "autistic savant skills". None of that was cultivated.
When I was starting to adjust to being back in school again, my foster sister and my only other close friend in school began to resent me for scoring higher than them on exams, because I was supposed to be worse than them at everything. No one in my class wanted to help each other, they wanted to outdo each other so they could come out on top.
I missed out on two years of my teenage life because I was locked away. I never had a proper boyfriend or girlfriend during high school, unless you count the guy who was molesting me during the first month of it. Never a real date, until I was groomed by a man in his late twenties when I was 17. I was never invited to a party. I was physically too weak for sport and terrible at it due to dyspraxia. I pretty much had no friends and was constantly ostracised by both my classmates, and coworkers, who called me a retard constantly.
My educational ability was impaired because of where I grew up, I have spent years fighting and clawing to try and catch up but at the end of the day I cannot compare to my peers in university who got a proper education. It became harder and harder to learn when I was struck down with chronic illness, because my eyesight and cognitive abilities are SHOT. There are years of learning and making memories that I will simply never get back.
When people tell me that I'm so hung up on the past and need to get over it, I implore them to think about a reality in which their past wasn't peachy sunshine and roses, with some hints of adversity sprinkled in for a good motivational story.
I do not think most 22 year olds constantly hurt and ache for what they have lost. The death of my father during primary school, growing up with no mother, the death of my grandfather who was one of the two people who ever cared about me, the ctb of my aunt even though she was abusive, abandonment from close friends, family members, and partners, the constant abuse throughout my life from estranged family members, medical staff, partners, and other children. How could I forget these cornerstones of my agony?
It would be one thing to forget the past if there were a future to look forward to, but there isn't. Chronic pain, trauma, and chronic fatigue syndrome have ruined any potential life I had left. I can't make people care about me, despite the fact that my conditions require assistance from other people. Every "helping" service put there is convinced that you're the problem for not thinking positive and putting yourself out there enough.
They can't fathom the reality where their body physically can't push itself to its limits anymore, or where there are no family or friends to love them, where there's no light at the end of the tunnel. People who have everything look down on those who have nothing and pretend the foundations of our lives are the same. I have known nothing but loss. But yes, I should forget the past and move forward. Move forward towards my inevitable ctb.
Yesterday I watched a documentary about class divides in the education system. There was a striking difference in the mannerisms of children who went to private schools as opposed to their peers enrolled in state schools. The private school girl described her life as carefree and exploratory.
She got to dabble in lots of different activities provided to her by her posh boarding school. Things like music, drama, art, etc. Now, compare her to the state school pupil, who described herself as being impassioned/motivated in a sea of people who could care less. At every moment, she had to be focused on studying and trying to get the most out of her lessons, because there was no lifeboat coming to save her. No rich parents or talents cultivated by years of expensive hobbies.
Some of us were born unlucky and have had to meander through life on unstable foundations, just like the girl in the documentary. She eventually made it, because she had supportive teachers and parents, but many of us lack wealth in both currency and love. We are told constantly that help is out there, yet when you cry for it, there is nothing. You're told to live in the moment and forget your past, disregard the cruel circumstances that have festered over time and culminated your suicidal ideation.
Others turn a blind eye to the fact that abused, neglected children will one day become abused, neglected adults. Yet these adults are expected to function on the same level as their peers who had normal upbringings, hit every developmental milestone, and received proper love, support, and nurturing from their guardians, teachers, and friends.
Once you become 18, you're on your own. No one gives a damn about you anymore, except when you fail to make monetary contributions to society. Then, you are viewed as a defective failure and a product of your own poor decision making rather than a lifetime of turmoil perpetuated by the environment you were raised in.
This is what pisses me off so badly- when people pontificate that many of our issues are crafted by our own design, our failure to "move on" and forget years of trauma, failure, and suffering. How do they expect us to build glamorous lives when our entire existence has been spent following the blueprints for a ruddy, dilapidated, old shack providing us with meager shelter?
There are burdens in this life that must be permanently shouldered. The things we carry do not magically grow lighter. What makes the weigh more bearable (and this may not help in every case, but it would certainly be an improvement) is when others share the load with us. Yet, the collective does not want this approach. In our folly, we have created an individualised dystopia that is fueled by victim blaming, finger pointing, and stubborn denial of the absurd, random nature of life.
Disabled, traumatized, isolated, ill, and neglected people are forced to suffer, often through no fault of our own. Which is already bad enough, but then you add in the constant jeers from the public, the judgement and ostracization, and it becomes too heavy a burden to bear. I find myself often thinking what have I done to deserve this.
It feels like at every turn I am punished because I was born to parents who did not love nor want me, grew up in a small shit hole village/town, was cursed with developmental disabilities since birth, have always been an ugly girl, and then got physically ill which further dehabilitated me. Every moment of existence feels like a punishment for a crime I did not commit.
I am constantly reminded of the fact that I am alone and seen as lesser. Whether it is walking at a snail's pace to university and having impatient groups of friends push their way past me, seeing happy families through dimly lit windows as I pass through a posh neighborhood, or simply even witnessing my course mate's parents singing their praises constantly, making posts on social media about their achievements, and funding their nights on the town, I am forever reminded of the fact that I am an alien species.
When I vocalise this crippling loneliness, absolutely nobody cares. The few people who have pretended to have went back on their promises as soon as they could not squeeze more blood from the turnip. If I try speaking to university "mental health" teams they pathologize my pain and act like I am mentally ill and unable to manage my stress. I am sure they would find mindfulness worksheets super helpful if they were crippled, alone, and struggling to survive in a world that offers nothing but platitudes and empty words to the downtrodden.
I did not choose this outcome. I have been trying my entire life to overcome the circumstances of my birth. When I petitioned to be allowed to take subjects that were not offered at my very bad state funded high school- like anything relating to technogy and computing- the head of the school said I was not capable and they would not make exceptions for me. (Despite me getting a perfect grade in my self managed online class and pulling high scores on advanced subject exams)
I was constantly griped at by teachers during a period of genuine struggle, following the two years in which I was locked away in my aunt's home and mistreated daily by my father's family after my molestation by a classmate. The staff at my school had no compassion for me, even though I had only moved in with my foster family a couple months prior to this, and was heavily medicated, because I was told I was lazy and depressed. (I wasn't, I had fucking PTSD)
I wanted to make something out of my life, but no one supported me. No one believed in me. They thought I was pitiful and odd for being autistic, and struggling with memory loss and cognitive issues. Adults were only kind to me when I was successful, such as very early on in my childhood when I displayed signs of hyperlexia and the sterotypical "autistic savant skills". None of that was cultivated.
When I was starting to adjust to being back in school again, my foster sister and my only other close friend in school began to resent me for scoring higher than them on exams, because I was supposed to be worse than them at everything. No one in my class wanted to help each other, they wanted to outdo each other so they could come out on top.
I missed out on two years of my teenage life because I was locked away. I never had a proper boyfriend or girlfriend during high school, unless you count the guy who was molesting me during the first month of it. Never a real date, until I was groomed by a man in his late twenties when I was 17. I was never invited to a party. I was physically too weak for sport and terrible at it due to dyspraxia. I pretty much had no friends and was constantly ostracised by both my classmates, and coworkers, who called me a retard constantly.
My educational ability was impaired because of where I grew up, I have spent years fighting and clawing to try and catch up but at the end of the day I cannot compare to my peers in university who got a proper education. It became harder and harder to learn when I was struck down with chronic illness, because my eyesight and cognitive abilities are SHOT. There are years of learning and making memories that I will simply never get back.
When people tell me that I'm so hung up on the past and need to get over it, I implore them to think about a reality in which their past wasn't peachy sunshine and roses, with some hints of adversity sprinkled in for a good motivational story.
I do not think most 22 year olds constantly hurt and ache for what they have lost. The death of my father during primary school, growing up with no mother, the death of my grandfather who was one of the two people who ever cared about me, the ctb of my aunt even though she was abusive, abandonment from close friends, family members, and partners, the constant abuse throughout my life from estranged family members, medical staff, partners, and other children. How could I forget these cornerstones of my agony?
It would be one thing to forget the past if there were a future to look forward to, but there isn't. Chronic pain, trauma, and chronic fatigue syndrome have ruined any potential life I had left. I can't make people care about me, despite the fact that my conditions require assistance from other people. Every "helping" service put there is convinced that you're the problem for not thinking positive and putting yourself out there enough.
They can't fathom the reality where their body physically can't push itself to its limits anymore, or where there are no family or friends to love them, where there's no light at the end of the tunnel. People who have everything look down on those who have nothing and pretend the foundations of our lives are the same. I have known nothing but loss. But yes, I should forget the past and move forward. Move forward towards my inevitable ctb.
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