sense and sensibility

My daddy has always told me that he wants me to be happy, but I could never tell him that it's going to take me being away from him permanently for me to be happy. He'll never accept it. As it is, he expects me to outlive him and mom. But both of them are so secretive that I could never take care of their final arrangements. And besides, I'm so unhappy. I only slept until two this morning, and the way I feel right now will continue until God has had enough of me and strikes me down. They way I felt today was like the usual dreariness, but I keep on sighing real big sighs and putting my hands all the way back through my hair. I really CAN'T go on like this, the way I'm feeling now. It's either death or the hospital, and I already know they can't help me there. People dump a loved one there and say, "take care of her. I can't handle it anymore." I'm talking about the psych unit, not telemetry. It's going to take death for me to get a different voice of vitality, just like Jeff has now. I wrote to both Drs. Bart Ehrman and Lionel Dahmer, but the truth is I'll be surprised if I hear a peep out of the both of them. I'm used to being rejected. I just know I won't get letters back. They're both too old to be pen pals with a 32-year-old girl/woman. Well, maybe Lionel is but Bart, no. I know I'm sick, but I can't stand to be around my own people because it gets me depressed how God could create so much suffering and crippling behavior in a small amount of individuals. I mean, even if any of us don't adopt Christianity (born again) we shouldn't go to hell because we've suffered so much in life. We've been homeless, poor, on the street, no meds, wrong meds, misdiagnosed, all the while being around other people who are afraid of us, talk about us behind our backs or turn their attention away from us. I mean, the world has so much stigma when it comes to our kind. And when someone does talk about our sufferings they exclude certain illnesses. On TV I've seen the same bipolar commercial for six months now. Kind of makes me wish I was bipolar. But I'm not. I was never diagnosed with that disease, and I don't have mood swings. I don't know what I have. Hopefully an autopsy can clear everything up, for me and my family. I just want the world to stop treating us like third class citizens, the "untouchables" of society. It's not fair for me and those who came before me that had it SO HARD. I want to see justice for my kind, for the many that get killed or maimed every year because the shooter thinks the out of control behavior should be stopped permanently, doesn't know about mental illness, madness, how to properly detect it and deal with it in a civil, caring and concerned matter without getting violent. CPR? Yeah, right. Professionalism isn't shooting someone dead because he doesn't have the sense to act rationally. My parents don't discuss my suicide attempt. They never did. They put it behind them and they expected me to do the same. But I can't. I keep on bringing it up over and over again with God, why it should've been a good idea for me to go. My dad isn't comfortable talking or dealing with someone who's out of control. His knowledge as a prison guard would say to lock him or her up until they've calmed down. That doesn't always work. You know how many of us are being mistreated right now or being cared for at an arm's distance? There has to be a change, with or without me on this earth.