I have no real patience with mental viability as an excuse for weak or insipid behavior. This no doubt sounds extraordinarily harsh and somewhat offensive, but please do understand I feather my own nest with the very same stipulations. I suffer equally disturbing failures in my own psychological efficacy, and deal with the matter with the same cold indifference I so starkly bequeath others.
Sympathy is a reaction that always leaves me confused and embarrassed, never sure if my condition ever truly deserves such a considerate reaction from the onlooker. Failing the extreme of demise I am inclined to consider that the universe has in general treated me rather too well, certainly a heap better than my inner thoughts and external actions have truly deserved.
We all helped make our own beds and thereafter condoned to lie down, sometimes comfortably, on occasion screaming and kicking. That is the truth we accept to live and fulfill the life we have been dealt, for the better or worse of humanity and the cosmos.