I didnât read the xojane article doing the rounds, I found myself reeling from the headline as I tried to process what the author, Amanda Lauren, was saying. âMy former friendâs death was a blessing â some people are so sick, they are beyond helpâ.
It kind of speaks for itself, the author believes there are people who are a lost cause and they should die because it will make it easier for everyone else. She feels justified in saying this, reassured enough to publish her thoughts on a global platform. I am perturbed by people who make these controversialÂ statements, unconcerned by how they might be perceived, either possessing the hide of a rhinoceros or else feel that public opinion will sway their way (another painful reminder of the growing inhumanity weâve normalised against anyone considered âotherâ).
I have CPTSD, a condition I am stuck with for the rest of my life because it is as the name suggests, complex. I didnât ask to be repeatedly put in harmâs way, with no chance of escape, itâs just the life I was born into. I have explored in great detail the reasons I broke down, so that I can understand it was not my fault (when youâre mental youâre convinced you deserve it) and so that I could hope for a better future, one where I can have a fulfilling life, where I wonât be immediately at risk of a violent death.
My efforts to at least appear normal for the sake of ordinary people exhaust me, as anyone who suffers from a condition which impacts on their day to day dealings will tell you; how to not only stay alive, but to live well, to be fun and interesting and relevant. There can be no stone left unturned, no door chained and bolted in the recesses of my fragile mind, triggers must be neutralised as theyÂ arise. I frequently say things that make other people uncomfortable. I donât do it intentionally, itâs just my experience of the world is so far removed from the norm, I come across somewhat intense and affected. When people try to cover things up, or downplay the truth, I consider that to be gaslighting because it messes with my sense of reality. When I told the truth as a child I was disbelieved and punished.
My childhood was violent, my teens isolated, my 20s split entirely from reality. Amanda Lauren would probably say my life wasnât worth living. I believed that too, until just a year or two ago, when I suddenly remembered who I was before I became unhinged, a state I found myself in through no fault of my own. I remembered the things I was good at, the hopes I had as a pre teen, for university and beyond. This brought with it confidence and self esteem, qualities Iâd mislaid following my failings as an adult in a cishet white supremacist patriarchy. When I think back to the lowest period of my life, the monotony of anhedonia and how utterly convinced I was that my time on this earth was rapidly coming to an end it frightens me to think people like Amanda believe in the legitimacy of their own bigotry.
I never thought Iâd have the confidence to write my own blog, or weather a twitter storm. I didnât dare dream of friends and lovers who hear me, even when there are no words. Even when I was a bordering on psychotic, withdrawing from SSRIs, they kept me supplied with valium and kitten pics. Thatâs what friends do, Amanda, they love you despite your flaws. They understand there is nothing inherently wrong with you, that youâre a product of an unjust society and that to feel depressed or disconnected from the world is a sign youâre actually (most likely) a decent sort. I donât reject the mental ones, I welcome them with open arms, as they have me. I want to offer Amandaâs ex friend my condolences and wish for her to rest in peace. I am sorry you were stuck with people who didnât deserve you.
âIt is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.â Be wary of those who pretend they havenât a care in the world, more so the ones who genuinely donât.