Documenting my journey through the mental health system

I suppose I see myself as some sort of renaissance man, an eccentric philosopher. I’m a regular Jean Paul Sartre, who argued life is an unwelcome interruption to a peaceful nonexistence.

I’m not suicidal right now, but even in manic moments I am reminded of what a dark burden life can be. Everything has to be a fucking production. We make life hard on ourselves in an ever increasingly digitized and advanced world. It coincides with the rise of fascism (again). We never seem to learn our lessons. Why do I want to kill myself?

I gave up social work when I attempted grad school for it. It took me a few years to realize it wasn’t for me, not just because I lack empathy and hated individual counseling, but because I came to believe the wider society didn’t have the infrastructure and support needed for social workers to be able to do their jobs. It was a dark place to be.

I’m in grad school for public health now. Our public health infrastructure is crumbling, our top government agency for health is run by an anti-science madman with a worm in his brain. I’m not sure what I’m thinking. I may never stop wiping ass, but at least I can have options.

Those options might not exist in the future. If I finish (a big if), when I am done, will there be jobs in public health? Will we have a public health system? Any kind of health system? Will I leave the VA? I’m quite loyal to the VA and despite everything fucking up our morale, it’s a secure job for me. I have supported employment. I’m considered “essential.” I don’t know what I will do with the masters. I just know I want it. I want it because I tried grad school before and failed. I want it because I never imagined I’d ever go back. Ten years later, I’m giving it one last shot. I like being educated. I like reading and writing. I want to use my brain before it rots with the putrid thoughts of my darkest fears, paranoias, ideations, and urges.