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sancta-simplicitas
Experienced
- Dec 14, 2023
- 202
A year since my therapist made me break out in iatrogenic PTSD. Someone who specialized in trauma, at that. Someone I went to see - paid out of pocket despite being on benefits - to help me heal from years and years of abuse by the public mental health services. A year of pure hell followed. I got physically ill several times, became agoraphobic and confined to my home, most of my friends fucked off - either slipped away because I was too tormented to conversate, some of them ghosted me and just disappeared, one of my best friends started competing with me (the absolute worst instance would be when he randomly said "you know that childlike light that you had and lost after therapy? I think I'm gaining that") and then left when I reacted because "I need peace and quiet right now and there isn't enough time to talk later" (he was one of the few people I told about my plans to CTB). My apartment used to be clean and quiet on the mind, now it's a disgusting mess. My clothes don't fit anymore because I relapsed into my eating disorder and lost a lot of weight. I missed my grandfathers funeral and I'm going to miss my nephew being born.
A year ago I made my first serious suicide attempt. It wasn't very planned, nor very intelligent. I tried to OD on my anxiolytics, which likely wouldn't have worked any way but I was desperate. SI kicked in, I called an ambulance. Got to drink activated charcoal, took a couple of blood tests and then ran away from the emergency room because I was afraid of being involuntary admitted. I wish I had died. When you die of suicide in my country, they perform a psychiatric autopsy to try to get to the source of what led to the suicide. They would have been able to connect it to my therapist, she would have gotten in trouble with the authorities. Now I'll die without anyone knowing, with her still making several hundred thousands a year, still being allowed to practice despite having ruined a life.
A year ago I made my first serious suicide attempt. It wasn't very planned, nor very intelligent. I tried to OD on my anxiolytics, which likely wouldn't have worked any way but I was desperate. SI kicked in, I called an ambulance. Got to drink activated charcoal, took a couple of blood tests and then ran away from the emergency room because I was afraid of being involuntary admitted. I wish I had died. When you die of suicide in my country, they perform a psychiatric autopsy to try to get to the source of what led to the suicide. They would have been able to connect it to my therapist, she would have gotten in trouble with the authorities. Now I'll die without anyone knowing, with her still making several hundred thousands a year, still being allowed to practice despite having ruined a life.