A recent article in the Sun (external link) describes how women celebrities and influencers on Instagram are sometimes stalked by lunatics who cause harm. One woman was recently killed.
Celebrity stalking didn’t begin with Instagram, of course, I’m sure Helen of Troy dealt with creeps, but let’s not discuss that right now.
The standout quote is, “This is literally how women die, because nobody listens to us, and we are constantly in danger.”
I’m sorry but that is how everyone crying for help dies. They’re ignored. Because everyone is too busy with orders from their boss, the comic book they want to finish, their kid who just wet his pants in school and needs to be picked up.
Nobody cared that gangs ran my high school and terrorized students. Nobody did a damn thing. You got bullied and beaten and that was that. It was the same way at Orwell’s school nearly a hundred years ago (internal link) and I’m sure it is the same way today. Nobody cares.
At certain very difficult times over the last thirty years I’ve discussed suicide with different professionals. (internal link). None of them have ever called the next day to see how I was doing.
A Nye County Sheriff once appeared at my door after Intermountain Health Care requested that someone check on me. But they didn’t call themselves. I’m sure it was because they would have to talk to me, you know, engage in a conversation. Too much trouble.
I get more follow on calls regarding the welfare of my pets from veterinarians than doctors or nurses calling about my own welfare.
You know what this says? You are worthless. You don’t rate a one minute phone call. We’re professionals but your worth as a human being is zero. Nothing. You don’t count.
Years ago in Northern Ireland a woman walking her dog was seized upon for being an informant on one side or the other of The Troubles. The mob literally tarred and feathered her and she barely clung to life when she was transported to the hospital. No one wrote to the newspaper editor about her welfare but inquiries did come in about what had happened to the dog.
I was somewhat shocked that a Southwest Medical nurse has now called me twice to ask about a minor knee injury I had recently. That was very nice of her.
By comparison, no one has called from the Aurora Hospital in Tempe about how I am doing after my fifth ECT treatment went disastrously wrong. Electro-convulsive therapy is the most extreme procedure you can perform in mental health save a lobotomy. Yet no one has called.
In the past I have said the only way to get emergency medical treatment was to threaten to kill someone or to threaten to kill yourself.
Today, I strongly think that threatening yourself no longer matters unless you were to act out in public and to give advance notice to the media. I am not kidding.
These women get ignored because no one wants to be bothered to do anything else other than what they want to do. That includes law enforcement and medical professionals and the person who bags your groceries.
Medical professionals bemoan the growing suicide rate yet they are a big part of the problem. They’ll say they are overworked and underfunded and blah, blah, blah.
There are exceptions to this uncaring universe and nice, helpful people do exist. But they are always the exception and never the rule. You cannot count on a nice person to help when you really need help. You cannot.
The only time I get a quick response, although it’s always from some powerless media management company, is when I post something negative to Twitter.
Yup, your life is non-existent unless you make it known to thousands or millions through social. The message from the medical community is to kill yourself and keep it to yourself. Remember, we can’t be bothered to make a one minute phone call. You don’t rate.
Your problems don’t rate with my problems. Even if they are worse than my problems. Me first.
I’ve told what a disaster calling the Suicide Hotline was. (internal link) If they won’t help or follow on, who will? Good question. Who will? The answer? No one. In the end, nobody cares.
You see all those people left behind in Afghanistan that were our friends. We maintain this fiction that all people have worth because to say otherwise is to accept a world too terrible to live in.
That people have value is a lie we tell ourselves to keep on living. But it is still a lie. Like money isn’t important nor youth or beauty. Surely we matter. Maybe. But not if it bothers someone to make a phone call or it is no longer politically expedient to save your life.
Why does the world go on? Life and the world aren’t built on negativism or hopelessness. The majority of people in the world get up each morning and carry on despite difficulties. I doubt a nihilist world can exist, although cults like Aum Shinrikyo and today’s Taliban test my judgment.
For me, I have a pretty good life as long as people aren’t bullying me and if I don’t go to sleep. My hobbies and interests keep me alive along with the terrible guilt I would feel leaving behind a mountain of unsorted junk in my house. Guilt is an outstanding motivator.
If you are in emotional trouble, I wish you the best. And I wish I could help. God speed.
