That there is somhing broken in us. That we can’t adjust to the system that is s up to complely tear us apart, piece by fucking piece, until we’re literally dead. I’ve lost three Black sex worker friends to suicide this year. There’s a social burden that has been placed on Black, Indigenous American, and transgender people or people of color and it’s deadly. The I try to contain my crazy but the lid keeps popping off shirt joy of that Instagram group made me realize that there is no amount of joy or work hic that lifts that burden. There is no amount of talent, there is no amount of privilege, that lifts that burden. Hearing that we all had the same exact experiences told me that we’re all vulnerable to that same anger. We’re vulnerable to that same inability to function within a sociy that was not made for us. My friends who took their own lives were not killed by depression, they were killed by a sociy they were unwilling to acquiesce to.