I understand that urge to help others, but what is the psychology behind the reason that humans feel the need to 'help' and even try to be good in the first place? What even makes it right to intervene in someone's attempt? Why is it so hard to just let someone go and yet so easy pretending to care?
Lemme ask you something
But first, let me tell you a story about myself (many of you have read apart of this just not in detail like now)
I was 8 the first time I tried to end my life.
I scooped up a rope into my arms and carried it to my bed. From there, I hobbled up to my bed, went on to my tippie toes and hung this rope up to the fan that hung from my ceiling and looped it across one of the wings.
My mom had recently taken my siblings and i to visit slave monuments and walk the grounds my ancestors did. She thought it would be a great learning tool and it was. But as soon as I got home, I was court ordered back to my father's house where I was beaten, kicked, punched and starved. I had ran away numerous times but despite the "child protection" angency checks, the neighbors and the god fearing christain church I was taken to every Sunday all being witnesses to what was done to me or at the very least heard my screams of pain and saw the fear in my eyes each time I was forced to approach him, did nothing.
For years on end with my spirit getting crushed further down each and every time, I walked to my mother's awaiting arms in anguish and love because she was the only one that believed me unwaveringly
One day, it got to much. And here I am, staring at the noose I had just created with a single thought in my head of how white people use to hang people like me. I remembered what those knots looked like, I knew that I wouldn't be here any longer as soon as I put my head in that hole I created.
Would you have stopped me?