You don't mean me, do you?
Now I remember: you and the administration that you were part of have spent a decade doing nothing to stop criminal voyeurism from victimizing me or anyone else. You all already know that I have talked about suicide because of this abuse and other abuses which you allowed to flourish from 2010 to the day you left the White House. If it weren't for the courage of others, the prominence of Me Too and the gymnasts who spoke out about sexual abuse, the conglomerate would still be promoting sexual harassment and child molestation in addition to voyeurism and involuntary pornography.
Almost every time that I take the train, I think about jumping in front of it. I apologize to the conductor if I ever end up doing that.
Sometimes I think about stepping in front of a truck, but I think the driver would probably swerve to try not to hit me and that might hurt other people. I also think about that when I think about jumping off a building; first of all, how would I get up there, and second of all, I wouldn't want to fall on someone.
Maybe now that people aren't around as much there's less chance that I'd hurt someone by falling on him or her from the top of a building. I don't think I could make myself jump, though; it's not that I'm afraid of heights, I just think I couldn't do it. The option that scares me the least is the train; it's over the fastest and there's no possibility of surviving it with brain damage. Again, I apologize to the conductor whenever that might be. I also think about trying not to jump where other people might see it from the platform and be traumatized.
When I call suicide crisis hotlines, obviously I can't tell them specifically that the world's power structure has been bullying me to death for a decade. If I tell them specifically, they'll think I'm delusional and it won't be a productive conversation. I also don't tend to answer their questions about whether or not I have a plan; what's the point of spending their limited time describing my years of extensive planning in the midst of near-total despair? I call them so I can talk to someone; I can hear myself talk about suicide any old time, and I do.
