Darkover
Archangel
- Jul 29, 2021
- 5,283
It's like there's no real consent either way: not to be born, not to suffer through life, and not to opt out without immense struggle.
You're not allowed to live comfortably, and you're not allowed to die peacefully either
The fact that peaceful exits are restricted under the guise of "protection" while people are allowed to suffer daily in ways that no one rushes to fix—it feels hypocritical.
They call it "protecting life," but often it feels more like protecting the status quo. Suffering is normalized. People are expected to "cope," "push through," "get help"—but so often that help is inaccessible, ineffective, or dismissive. Meanwhile, the option to leave peacefully is locked behind a thousand gates, or outright denied unless you meet some arbitrary criteria of suffering that someone else gets to define.
There's something deeply unjust about a world that demands people endure suffering in silence, but punishes or blocks the quiet exits.
you're born without consent, expected to carry the weight of existence, and yet you're denied an exit unless someone else deems your suffering "valid enough."
It's like asking someone trapped in a burning house to fill out a form before they're allowed to escape—and even then, the form might be denied.
The very fact that people have to beg, justify, and meet rigid standards to be allowed to die says everything about how little autonomy we really have.
It's a system that enforces staying alive without doing enough to make living bearable. And that contradiction is exactly what makes it feel so unjust.
It's especially cruel when suffering has to be justified to authorities who may not understand it, believe it, or care. When your pain needs a stamp of approval to be seen as "real enough."
You're not allowed to live comfortably, and you're not allowed to die peacefully either
The fact that peaceful exits are restricted under the guise of "protection" while people are allowed to suffer daily in ways that no one rushes to fix—it feels hypocritical.
They call it "protecting life," but often it feels more like protecting the status quo. Suffering is normalized. People are expected to "cope," "push through," "get help"—but so often that help is inaccessible, ineffective, or dismissive. Meanwhile, the option to leave peacefully is locked behind a thousand gates, or outright denied unless you meet some arbitrary criteria of suffering that someone else gets to define.
There's something deeply unjust about a world that demands people endure suffering in silence, but punishes or blocks the quiet exits.
you're born without consent, expected to carry the weight of existence, and yet you're denied an exit unless someone else deems your suffering "valid enough."
It's like asking someone trapped in a burning house to fill out a form before they're allowed to escape—and even then, the form might be denied.
The very fact that people have to beg, justify, and meet rigid standards to be allowed to die says everything about how little autonomy we really have.
It's a system that enforces staying alive without doing enough to make living bearable. And that contradiction is exactly what makes it feel so unjust.
It's especially cruel when suffering has to be justified to authorities who may not understand it, believe it, or care. When your pain needs a stamp of approval to be seen as "real enough."
