So, itʻs #WorldSuicidePreventionDay today, eh.

Retweet some pretty pictures about it, advertise about those national suicide prevention hotlines, tell about how you have bipolar or OCD, then feel like youʻve done something great, and continue with your neurotypical life, and be happy about tomorrowʻs national whatever awareness day.

Iʻm cold about the topic. I have had a few acquaintances/colleagues whoʻve taken their own life. I have also had rather unhappy adolescence, growing up in a loud family where everyone had some kind of disabilities. My mum was on the spectrum but far less high-functioning (I hate labels) than I am, and I never had an emotional connection with her. Certainly not that famous myth-like mother-daughter relationship. She was overprotective, and tried to brainwash me to believe in her world and her religious views. Newsflash: it didnʻt work out too well. Adolescence sucked. Thatʻs all I ever want to say about it.

If I had any plans to do something that todayʻs feelgood theme is supposed to prevent, the last thing Iʻd do would be calling some bloody hotline. Or search for “mental health” help: all the “professionals” are so bloody neurotypicals. No: you CAN NOT use my eye movement, lack of eye contact, any AV recordings about or of me, my voice (English is, surprise, STILL my third language), my spoken expressions (also: I am not neurotypical) OR try to analyze my facial expressions or boy language. Let me highlight that I have also (hopefully) enough blindisms that even the most idiot MH professional should get it. No, they donʻt get it. Quit analyzing me. I do not wish to communicate about my “emotional” or “feeling” statuses. When I choose some words to express something, I mean exactly what my words I choose mean. I type, I donʻt write by hand. I HATE being interrupted. If you work in “MH” field, my hint for you: learn some respect.

I do not belong to your or “my” culture either.


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