Obviously my judgment is excellent:
When I was 18, I was suicidal. I went to a shrink. My mother was apoplectic with horror and embarrassment. So was everyone she knew.
I didn't give a damn. Screw 'em all! I knew what was best. Maybe I'm just smart.
I stayed the course.
He was a wonderful, wise man. He wanted to help me. He did. He told me to get a job after school to pay him. I did. He turned me around completely. It was one of the wisest decisions I ever made. I will always revere this man.
Tomorrow I will be 85 years old. I have been married to the same fabulous woman for 64 years, have two wonderful children and four wonderful grandchildren. I made enough money to retire at age 53. I lived in wealth and plenty ever since, travelled the world, speak 3 languages, studied and learned continuously--have the life I wish everyone could have!
And one of the smartest decisions I ever made was going to a psychiatrist, figuring out what a wise man he was, and placing my trust in him.
People that don’t think mental illness, or depression, or anxiety disorders either never had them. And those that recovered from them KNOW how it’s a disorder and that you were not thinking right. Things that you thought made sense, that all your relatives would celebrate you dying and to be done with you instead of mourning and it ruining them are mental disorders.
This is near scientology type nonsense that there’s no chemical or emotional brain diseases. Hell, I’ve heard some people flat out say Schizophrenia doesn’t exist and they just need a good talking to.
Mental disorders do not justify evil actions, but shaming people for them and saying ‘just get over’ is almost as bad.