The reason, according to news reports, seems fairly petty, sparked by the complaints of local restaurateur Kari Newell, who had demanded that Meyer and a reporter be removed from an event with area Congressmember Jake LaTurner (R.-Kansas). She alleged later that the paper had unlawfully obtained personal records showing that she, according to the Guardian, had allegedly been “convicted of dr[u]nk-driving and continued using her vehicle without a license,” but that “the paper never published anything related to it.”
But that’s not what Meyer thinks this is really about. Meyer explained that current town police chief Gideon Cody—a retiree of the Kansas City, Missouri, police department—has harbored animosity toward the paper ever since it started asking uncomfortable questions about his hiring (Handbasket, 8/12/23; Washington Post, 8/13/23).
Meyer’s paper, after hearing anonymous allegations about his tenure, questioned town leaders as to whether they vetted Cody before hiring him (the paper never published any of the allegations, Meyer said). This led to a confrontation between the paper and the chief, and Meyer believes that the restaurateur’s antics were merely an excuse to exert power over the paper.
As recently as this morning I was wishing that I could shoot my brains out because I still obsess over how I disgraced myself in public nearly one year ago, and months earlier when I told a couple of friends about this they did basically absolutely nothing to help. Dwelling on their interactions has only made me want to stay away from them, so I haven’t talked to anybody on Discord in almost one month. I’m lonely, but I feel like if I try reinteracting with them, they’ll only disappoint me again, so it’s better to stay alone.
There are still a few things that prevent me from taking my life: 1) I don’t want my stepdad to feel guilty, 2) I have enough reasonability to recognize that I’ll feel less suicidal later, 3) my medications help me somewhat, and 4) I have a feeling that even if I really tried to kill myself I’d only fuck up again, like the bullet would only incapacitate me mentally without killing me. Usually when I try something for the first time, something goes wrong, so that would be pretty typical.
My standard of living isn’t even particularly awful. It’s okay, but the trade‐off is that I have to live with a severe depression that stays with me like cancer.