I am in constant pain and anguish. My situation will not improve without more help. The magnitude of my pain is increasing. For over eight years, when I have needed help, the amount of help I have received has not been enough to prevent my steady decline from a self-sufficient lawyer to nine consecutive days of being in bed nearly constantly. (I don’t have a bed: I’m laying on the floor.)
My pain is immense. My joy is miniscule. My situation will not improve without help from people I cannot control. Eight years of history says I will not get sufficient help. Suicide is rational.
I loathe when people say, “If you are thinking about suicide, ask for help.” I have asked for help when I thought about suicide. I have asked for help when I have not thought about suicide. I have not received the help I need.
Of the dozens of ways I have asked for help, the only way that has lead to meaningful assistance has been to ask you for money so I can buy food and medicine. PayPal
