I am so sick and tired of all these weak kneed, wail-sobbing, narrow neck, career patient, diaper needing, Kermit arm flailing, hardship inventing, dandelion delicate, tic-toc-tantruming, jigsaw jawed, sadness slave, Pho-fur suffering, spoiled ass middle class made-of-glass cant-touch-grass, victimhood poser punk scrub buttermilk biscuit bitches.
Shut up.
That was cathartic.
Also, if you think I'm talking about you, assume I'm talking about you. We ain't making friends today.
Naturally, much of what's got me having fun with a smack talking opening revolves around dunking on our modern victim culture. That said, punching down for likes isn't my style. I like bucking with giants, which means I'm going to go after some sacred cows while I'm here. We'll get there.
For my followers reading this article, this'll be like I'm leading you into battle; you're not all going to be here at the end.
We find ourselves face to face with the results of living in a far too successful country combined with the unintended results of the “it's bad to keep things inside” movement. People started talking about their pain and in return received sympathy. While that's a natural human reaction to hearing about someone's pain, it accidentally gave the speaker a little taste of dopamine.
Then came the day when patient zero told a sad story online and received universal support and likes. Those witnessing this became infected and began to spread the virus. Why grind and struggle for the slim chance at notoriety for the things they've done when there's an easy path through things that were done to them?
Sprinkle in a little exponential growth and you have the origin story of the loud losers.
How's that for oversimplified?
(No research powers active!)
When I was young, we used to hide the things that harmed us. We'd even lie to cover them up if necessary. We fancied ourselves the bulletproof generation. And, to blow our own horn, we walked the walk. Not only would we find pity from others embarrassing but even a sympathetic tone from someone else felt like disrespect. We didn't want anyone to know if we'd been hurt or victimized in any way, shape or form.
In spite of what your pharmacist or therapist or Social Media following tells you, that process worked. We buried the things that hurt us and moved on with our lives. We didn't “share our pain”, we shouldered it. Whether intentionally or accidentally, we learned how to deal with it ourselves. We developed the skills to actually cope.
That's why when you come across a middle aged person telling something that sounds like a horror story, we're doing so for fun. Most times they're shared with humor or even a crazy sense of nostalgia. At worst, we're indifferent about them. Our suffering doesn't come to light until it no longer suffering anymore.
Those people aren't looking for validation or praise or sympathy. They put themselves back together on their own. It's by no means easy and most of us probably couldn't even tell you how we did it, however we learned from doing. Though unintentional, it turns out that the only kind of repair that can hold long term is self repair.
Other people can't put you back together.
“bUt wHAt abOuT mY TheRApiSt?!?!”
Calm your ass down or do you need a session to do that too?
I'm just playin', (sorta). While there have to be some legit therapists who are good at what they do and genuinely serve as a benefit to their patients, y'all are as unusual as I am amongst felons. So let's not beat around the bush with anecdotal bullshit just to protect our individual clubs.
Therapy looks good on paper, I'll give you that. A well educated, trained and accredited professional who can take an outside observational position and help patients using objective points of view and rationale unavailable to the individual who hired them.
But let's be real though, most of the ones who signed up for that career went bankrupt or got ran out of town a long time ago. I've been assigned a lot of you in my life. I've been picked over and analyzed and diagnosed more times than I can count. One of you actually wrote “Lycanthropy?” in your notes. I'd ask you to forgive my laughter but I wouldn't care if you didn't.
While I believe therapy began in a good place I also believe the profession has ironically been corrupted by its patients. Funny how that works, don't you think? Where it was once their position to figure out what was making an individual dysfunctional and to call them on it, that's no longer the case. They'd say, “this is an unhealthy and self destructive way for you to act and it needs to stop”, showing the patient what they couldn't recognize in themselves. That makes sense, I can see the benefit in having someone like that available where having honest friends is not an option.
But that's not what's happening anymore, is it?
Shut up, that was rhetorical.
Instead, rather than curing patients, the doctors themselves became crazy. Y'all became ‘yes men’. You don't point out failings in those who come to you but rather agree with what they thought when they walked in. You even help them to fill in the blanks so the cartoon plot makes better sense. You justify the crazy rather than try to help them fix it.
Yep, I remember many-many of you, after having read my case files and history, telling me how I was a victim. I had to stop and think however no less than at least 8 therapists have told me that it was my co-defendants and MY VICTIMS FAULT that I was in prison. I had to tell them “you got me fucked up”.
Take a moment to let that marinate.
The profession has become to feed, not fix. Just like in the pharmaceutical industry, profit is in the treatment, not the cure. What better way to get a client to keep coming back than to tell them what they want to hear, to justify their behavior and to even help them flesh out and concrete their position?
“I'm not crazy! The other 8 billion people are!”
Therapists have become nothing more than personality prostitutes. “I'll tell ya whateva ya wanna hear baby, jus’ leave the money on the dresser on ya way out.”
What's worse, because this industry reflects the current cultural status, y'all lead your patients to be loud about their dysfunction in direct contrast to the discretion once practiced. You tell them it's the world's fault rather than theirs. Causing them to become drunk with self-righteous anger and go after those you've said are harming them. Ie, the world they live in.
Where I come from, we call that cabling someone up. Hit you with them jumper cables and send your juiced-up ass out wild and breaking things.
And, just in case telling them they're perfect and the world is wrong isn't enough, you can slip some pills into the mix just to make sure they never accidentally learn coping mechanisms and dump you like a Tinder date. Not only are you their validation but now you're also their drug dealer.
I might know a little sumthin’-sumthin’ about how that process works. The addiction game was playing long before y'all got loose with prescription pads. And just like corner boys, who sells you the product, who takes your money and who gives you the dope are three separated people.
I see you.
“I'm going to start you on a few mg of naktixaatroban and supplement that with perfluiplestim. Once we see how your system adjusts to those, we'll graduate you to ioagabzolast. Oh, and here's your rewards card.”
Thank god you got sponsors and rep's or y'all wouldn't know which new pill to push. Nevermind that the side effect list is longer than a “15 days to slow the spread” lockdown. So long as you don't have to put the real work in to help them recognize their problem and learn the skills to deal with it. You can't do that, they'll move on rather than being in perpetual dependency to you to refill their fix.
“Anxious huh? Fuck what might be causing you to be unable to process that, take this pill that'll completely deaden your entire emotional spectrum and make you obese. Also, don't worry about the second part, I'll teach you about how society body shames people in a future therapy session once diabetes kicks in.“
Y'all are even doing this crap online now. What could possibly go wrong there? Everything people present on the interwebs is obviously accurate and factual. It's not like you should get to know your client in any intimate fashion before cheerleading and prescribing them Pfizer-phentermines.
Everything, everywhere is everyone else's fault and don't forget to grab a handful of complimentary antidepressants from the candy jar on your way out. We just got a shipment of the new Daiquiri flavored ones.
Deep breath…….
While I am a moron with a Summer temperature IQ, I'm not so stupid as to believe that this rant applies to all of you. If this doesn't sound like you, be angry at what your colleagues have done to your profession. If you're feeling personally attacked, fuck you. If the shoe fits I'm gonna beat you with it.
All of that just to say this: Shut up.
Patients, doctors and whoever else wants in on this smoke, shut the fuck up already.
The reason I spent so little time on you victimhood spaz-outs is because everyone is already laughing at you. I don't need to add to that pile and nothing I could say is going to shed any additional light onto your pitiful cospain existence.
You're already a meme, congratulations.
Yes, we used to bottle up our pain. We used to hide and even lie to keep others from knowing about it. We learned to deal with it and move on with our lives the way human beings have done for as long as humans have been. That's not to say that there wasn't room for improvement but the ridiculous pendulum swing to the current extreme is just embarrassing.
I see the usefulness of airing something out and we probably would've benefited from that where a mean best friend wasn't available. The thing is, it doesn't matter how loud you are. Shouting your victimhood does absolutely nothing to fix what's wrong with you. Only you can do that.
Only you can do that.
Shut up.
Only you can do that.
Whatever pain and trauma you experience is coming from literally inside you. No outside person can make repairs or fix things because they can't get to the problem. A plumber can fix the burst pipe in your bathroom from your driveway.
The thoughts and prayers of a million plumbers ain't going to stop the water raining through your ceiling.
Of course, that's going with the forgiving perspective that y'all even want to be fixed in the first place. Most junkies like being junkies.
But maybe you're one of the ones who got tricked.
I know people don't like that because it makes your problems your problem. Unfortunately, from my point of view, there's no other way around it. People can't learn to deal with things for you. I'm a believer in walking it off however I see where talking to someone could help. However, if you go to someone because you're in pain and they don't find something wrong with you, that should throw a parade of red flags. If nothing is wrong with you then why are you there?
“iTS bECaUse sOmeOne HUrt mE”
Okay? Life hurts. That's neither here nor there. Why can't you deal with it?
The problem is literally you no matter how you, therapists or the internet tries to disguise it. I'm not saying it's necessarily your fault, though it probably is, but if you're suffering, something is preventing you from handling it. Shut up about ‘why’ and dig into ‘what’.
Making yourself the victim and blaming others, or even the world, for your pain only ensures that therapists and drug companies have a lifetime customer in you. It doesn't matter why you're suffering, the causes are never going away. What matters is why can't you deal with it. What's wrong with you where you can't handle this?
So everyone shut up. For the people in pain, shut up and self analyze so you can self repair. For everyone billing these poor sob’s, shut up. You're part of the problem. You ain't helpin’, you're hustlin'.
Lastly, if anything I said here caused you trauma, shut up, I’m not your therapist.
Now I'm gonna shut up.
Gold. This one's gonna have some people sucking their thumb and looking for their blankie while curling up in a fetal position waiting on someone to soothe them through the white lies of a false reality.
Yep, this is what we call at Gallows Humor Magazine “The Trauma Generation.” I can’t tell you how many under 40 people who rattle off their diagnoses to me within 5 minutes of meeting them. I also love these people who say, “My therapist is great! I’ve been seeing her the last 12 years.” Uhhhh