So many professions have constructive criticism gratefully baked in, which is essential to maintaining industry integrity through transparency, unbiased review & open discussion. Except mental health.

Here is why I hate the mental health (MH) role I never asked for:

I never wanted to be a MH advocate. The last thing bringing me joy is schooling hard working therapists & psychiatrists calling out the problems they’re responsible for. All at my own financial & emotional expense.

I’d much rather blog about mountain bikes & puppies. Or broken bones & paper cuts. Anything but this uphill battle for nothing against so much biased-driven ego undesired.

Telling the world I am struggling almost crazy among a flailing MH brings me no reward. Zero. It brings me only pain & hardship.

But saving/helping even one person avoid the mental health mess I have crawled through to get here does. So I push on against all odds, against a thankless crowd wishing their status quo just be left alone.

I hate that my weaknesses are now public domain. I hate defensive egotistical doctors blocking me on Twitter just for raising red flags they own & evade.

I hate that fellow MH “advocates” give me zero love or feedback on anything I heart-bleed. Not a single heart-click passing by.

I hate clubs, cliques & petty conflicts. I hate arguing. I hate seeking legitimacy where I have none despite knowing I have plenty.

I hate trying just to fail, & then trying just to fail again.

I hate spending all my free time & thousands of dollars on issues no one cares about. I hate writing articles no one reads (unpaid). I hate trying to help people who don’t want helped. I hate watching status quo turn their heads just to purchase house & cars.

I hate losing.

I hate dismissal.. God do I hate dismissal.

I hate being perpetually embarrassed, eternally small & unwelcome.

I hate starting over & being respectful; smiling nice after so much mean.

I hate navigating egotistical quagmires full of social mud. I hate the life I have lost to it all; a child wandering ashen city streets grown busted.

I hate that I never hear “thank you”, just HOW DARE YOU instead.

I hate overconfident bully bravado. I hate doctors with unchallenged chips

Mental health professionals: Please appreciate the gravity of what is happening here; why I risked my everything to speak up for nothing. It’s not the money or nonexistent girls. The MH industry is so utterly broken & in such ignorant disrepair, a stranger 10 years off social media risked every shred of dignity left to build an entire website movement dedicated to articulating the dilemmas he simply cannot ignore.

All for nothing at the expense of everything, against an industry that prefers no critics at all; industry vacuums sweeping up lost souls for profit. “Go away you gnat, we got this without you”.

Or do you?

Remember: none of this helps my life at all. It’s makes it much worse. My own life-partner begs me to stop:

“You can’t fix this all alone” to which I respond “Watch me fucking try”.

So I push on. Why? Because the issues are so blatantly obvious to me, so heartbreakingly apparent, that not speaking up would leave me guilty of complicity while people suffer, die & break too prematurely.

Because I like sleeping sound at night with my conscious clean, knowing I at least tried.

Sound melodramatic? Tell that to everyone lost to suicide; to everyone arrested fragile-minded; blackballed for falling emotionally short just one gray summer day alone in May.

Tell that to everyone struggling without any MH services at all… while middle class professionals complain their not wealthy enough keeping up: “We can double it all by just going private”.

Tell that to the old me broken forever after haphazard advice guided me astronomically astray.

Tell that to the stigma & dismissal I was never warned about.

If the broken mind doesn’t kill you, the stigma will.

Don’t like my critique? Neither do I. Just don’t blame me for holding up the mirrors trying to help; it’s your reflection not mine.

I risk it all… all for nothing. I critique you because I have to.

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