I’m Not Ready To Leave This World, Yet…

How I’ve adjusted to the normalization of suicidal sentiments in my life…

For as long as I can remember, I’ve dealt with suicidal tendencies. In all likelihood, this is intertwined with the fact that I fall on the autism spectrum…and the negative impact that can have on my daily life.

Over the course of the past two or three years, it’s been especially bad.

I think a big part of it is that I’m inherently a suggestible person. When I hear panicky and hopeless sentiments expressed by other people — online and offline — it does a number on my stress threshold.

My mind jumps to the worst-case scenarios. My brain takes me down the rabbit-hole of assuming those scenarios are inevitable.

And I very quickly lose the will to live. I have no desire to be a part of a world where:

• Our energy grid and infrastructure has collapsed
• The Religious Right is dictating all of our laws and liberties
• People are raiding others’ homes and businesses in a Mad Max-style free-for-all
• Food is scarce, and water has been untreated
• Self-appointed community-based warlords control our local access to vital resources

The thought of living in this type of world SCARES THE SHIT OUT OF ME.

It’s making my stomach hurt, even as I type this out. I’m literally fighting through tears, writing this.

My only recourse, if ever facing that irreversible inevitability, would be to simply put myself out of my misery.

But we aren’t there, yet.

And there’s no reason we need to get there…if all of you fatalists would quit succumbing to self-fulfilling prophecies.

This is part of the reason why I rail against Dystopian Porn so hard. It’s why I’m so critical and contemptuous of the authors who peddle it.

And it’s why I easily lose my patience with those of you who make excuses for these connoisseurs of the doom-n’-gloom.

If it bothers you so much, why don’t you stop reading it? my detractors will squawk at me.

They’re missing the point. It isn’t about what individually makes me comfortable or uncomfortable. In the greater scheme of things, whether I die tomorrow or live for another fifty years won’t really matter.

As an individual, my vocal cords are only so loud. Even if I try to ignore that contagion of defeatism…it will still penetrate the energy field of our collective zeitgeist.

I understand that people who’ve spent decades fighting for change are exhausted.

Exhaustion is something that I know all too well.

I’m not discounting the role of grief in our lives.

Of course grief is only natural when we lose people to war, illness, propaganda, famine, squalor, addiction, and natural disasters.

However, at a certain point, overindulging in your own grief will incapacitate you. Why would you knowingly condition yourself to ingest the bleakness?

Grieving is often accompanied by expressing anger. But what good is that deadly combination of grief and rage if it doesn’t result in action?

Depressed about Donald Trump overtaking the White House?

Oh, let’s “grieve” about how people were “too stupid” to vote for Hillary Clinton…

Depressed about COVID-19 ravaging the planet?

Oh, let’s “grieve” about how people were “too stupid” to wear masks…

Depressed about inflation and price-gouging?

Oh, let’s “grieve” about how people were “too stupid” not to stand up against the crony capitalists who’ve already won…and conquered us all…

Depressed about Roe v. Wade being overturned?

Oh, let’s “grieve” about how people were “too stupid” to demand codification of reproductive freedoms, and we’re all now allegedly headed straight into a simulation of The Handmaid’s Tale…

Gee, how could I possibly find such ruminations of “grief” to be a terrifying and abhorrent way to spend my hours???

You may think you’re inspiring people into action by basking in your “grief” and warning people about an imminent hellscape with all the finesse of a town crier.

You’re not.

You’re just convincing the world that we’re all powerless…and we must accept there’s no chance of us taking back our power.

Pssssst…that’s exactly what “THEY” want us to do!

I know this is hard for many people to believe…but I don’t *enjoy* being unhappy.

I’d love nothing more than to put forth salable solutions to our world’s problems, while uplifting the voices of those who’ve been neglected. But I’m only one person. As of right now, I don’t have the reach or sphere of influence to use my voice to that magnitude.

So that leaves me beating my head against the wall…trying to snap people out of their doldrums and plead with them to combat tyranny with collective stamina.

Many of you might view me as a “Pollyanna” who exudes “toxic positivity” or “toxic optimism.”

I guess it’s just easier for you to slump your shoulders and self-digest the notion that “most people will readily consent to living in a fascism.”

Well, I’m proud to reject your brand of malaise. It gives me a purpose in life.

If you cling to the revelation that we’re all in for dark days that will be drawn out for generations, inescapably…

Then I’m content living out my final days slamming that pathetic narrative of yours, for anyone who will listen.

No matter how much more medication my psychiatrist wants to pump me full of…and no matter how many breathing exercises my psychologist asks me to do…

I’m not done, here, on this planet.

Not yet. I’m not going to go down this way…not after four decades of abuse, manipulation, anguish, and ridicule.

Go ahead. Mute me, unfollow me, block me.

Trap yourself within your own echo chamber of arrogance and crestfallen sludge.

Or, you can join me. Here are some starting-points:

Let’s mobilize to gain agricultural security and food sovereignty…

Let’s shame the decision-makers into providing election transparency…

Let’s demand reproductive freedoms…

Let’s enact smarter economic policies…

Let’s teach kids of all sexes and genders the importance of sexual boundaries…

Let’s have difficult conversations about social justice without all of the defensive whitewashing or the preachy hyperwokeness…

Let’s transcend the patriarchy…