I've always sort of 'prided' myself on my ability to hide symptoms as much as possible and to self-destruct in secret, without bothering anyone or needing anything. Of course this is actually rather stupid, as it has been a massive disservice to myself all these years and has been detrimental to basically my entire life. But that's the way I was conditioned to be when I was growing up, that suffering in silence and self-destructing in secret was being "strong" and "mature" and was the morally "right" thing to do.

As one of many possible examples to demonstrate what I mean, the last time I became rather severe, my automatic thought process was that I should run away and be homeless instead of going to the hospital or asking anyone for help, that I should keep it all inside and keep it all secret and just go off to die alone somewhere. My mind seemed to help me cope and give me 'courage' by providing me with the delusion that I was going on a spiritual mission/journey and to not be afraid.

But, what if I had allowed it to all come out instead? What if I hadn't kept it inside. What if I had let my thoughts and feelings show. What if I had actually flipped out in the middle of my work environment, instead of literally running out of the building and disappearing into the city. What if I had expressed how truly paranoid and terrified I was of my roommates, to the point that they would have probably called the cops, who may have then called 911.

Would I have gotten help instead? Instead of winding up homeless and getting hurt.

There are so many examples just like this throughout my life, and by now my perception of the whole mental health system is very confused and cynical.

Maybe "the system rewards self-destructive behaviors" is the wrong way to put it. It feels more like it punishes self-control, or rather (to be more realistic) punishes desperate efforts to be "strong" and not burden or scare others.

Sometimes I wonder if this is where some of my violent intrusive thoughts have been coming from lately. I feel desperate, I want help. I need help. But because of my childhood conditioning, I am like the master of internal warfare, I am one hell of a general and warrior against my own damned mind. I might feel suicidal or like totally losing it for day after day after day, but day after day after day I fight it, I self-destruct in secret.

Out of fear, pride, guilt, shame.

But I'm not completely stupid. I try not to be a manipulative person, but I still know it works. I know that if I did allow myself to just lose my ****, then I'd probably be taken seriously and given serious help. But I can't. It's too terrifying, too shameful, too unacceptable.

I'm sure my mind is a bit scrambled right now and so I might not be seeing it all clearly. But have any of you ever felt this way?