All of them, those in power, and those who want the power, would pamper us, if we agreed to overlook their crookedness by wilfully restricting our activities.
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by Paulette Cooper more
Part 12: Suicidal
I had become increasingly suicidal as time went on. I was in a rage over the sense of injustice over what was happen [addendum 1997: being accused of a crime I didn't commit and having to stand trial for it] and things just kept getting worse and worse.
There seemed to be nothing left except the agony of a public trial to prove my innocence, with high publicity, and great embarrassment to me and my parents. Even if cleared, I knew my life and career were ruined. And the alternatives were even worse.
The night of my 30th birthday, [...] I was at my lowest, most suicidal point. A number of other serious things had also gone wrong that day.  I decided not to wait until the trial [addendum 1997: I had been thinking of killing myself the night before], but to save myself and my parents any further agony.
I got rip-roaring drunk and started to write a suicide letter to my parents, trying to explain to them that I simply could not take the psychological pain any more. Fortunately, an old and close friend, Lucy, called me to wish me a happy birthday while I was writing the letter. And although I didn't tell her I was planning suicide, she recognized that I was in a very bad state. She kept me on the phone for hours, and finally calmed me down. I passed out from exhaustion, alcohol, and Valium.
I was aware that I was having a nervous breakdown. But I was afraid to go to a psychiatrist because I knew that it could be brought out at trial. (The government's contention was the people who send bomb threats are insane might be reinforced by seeing a psychiatrist.)
I also would have benefited greatly if I could have gotten away, but I couldn't. I had no money left, didn't think it fair to ask my parents for more money in view of what they were spending in legal fees, [97-1] couldn't ask for a free trip and write about it (as I had been doing in the early '70's and am starting to do again) because writing had become too difficult. [Addendum 1997: I couldn't concentrate to write all that year.]
But mainly, I was on some kind of parole or probation before trial and was not allowed to leave the state without the court's permission. The notion of having to ask the government to even go to New Jersey was so humiliating that I meekly stayed home.