I am angry that I missed out on so much as a child and now I have to spend the rest of my life trying to "sort of" get those needs met as an adult. Yet, at the same time, knowing that they will never really be met because you can't turn back the clock.

I am angry that the best there seems to be for me is to "make the best" of my situation.

I am angry that I didn't get to choose whether or not I wanted to be a part of this world, and would be considered weak or selfish if I decide to take myself out of it.

I am angry that I can't really talk openly about whether or not to stay without serious risk to my personal freedom. I mean, who decided that there is value in life? I think it's commonly accepted because it's "prettier," an easier pill to swallow. And I can understand that my life may have value to others, but what if it doesn't have value to me?

And I'm angry at the mental health profession as a whole. Who is to say what is normal and what is not? I think their subjective system of diagnosis just results in people feeling bad about themselves. These "professionals" deem "mentally ill" those folks who believe in the supernatural, or that they have extra-sensory abilities, or claim they see things that others can't. Yet in a lot of cases, these same "professionals" believe that woman was created from the rib of a man, or that a man survived for days in the belly of a whale, or that a burning bush spoke, or that lightening wrote words on tablets of stone.

I'm certainly not writing this to poo poo anyone's beliefs. I just question why we as a society consider one type of thing acceptable and another unacceptable when, if you step back and look objectively, you see that one is no more outlandish than the other, really. And no, I don't "see things" either. It's just the best analogy I could come up with to show how commonly accepted values and norms can sometimes not make sense.

I'm just angry.
And Sad.
And Confused.
And Frustrated.
And Hurting........