Why All Vegans are Crazy & Need Psychological Help

crazy vegans

The other day I was walking in the city and saw a group of vegans wearing masks, promoting videos and posters of deceased, tortured animals. Most people avoided them like the plaque. A few hurled insults at them. Others told them what they were doing is inappropriate. Some listened to what they were saying, but the overall majority wasn’t interested… AT ALL. I took one of their cards and told them to keep it up.

This is not the reason crazy vegans need psychological help.

I had a friend tell the world about this ‘annoying’ vegan girl in his office. A girl who ended up quitting because the office wouldn’t respect her wishes and stop putting dead animals in the fridge, by her food. I know this story because he posted it on Facebook. It got a lot of reactions from people. One I remember in particular is a girl who said ‘this is why I f*cking hate vegans.’

This is not the reason crazy vegans need psychological help.

When I first went vegan I went to a friend’s going-away party and got into a discussion with a few people about veganism – which soon turned into a full-blown argument. They were steadfast in their belief that god put animals on this earth for us to eat. I obviously took the opposite position. At one point getting really loud in my rebuttal on their stance. I was the 'stereotypical vegan' that day – to which I have since learned never to be.

But this is not the reason vegans need psychological help.

Then why? You may be asking yourself. Well, it all started a few days ago at my father’s house. I’ve been staying there on an extended visit and his soon-to-be-ex-wife made chicken. I came home from a luxurious bike-ride and gym session ready to devour the eggplant parm I had made the night before. I eagerly walked into the kitchen only to be greeted by the remains of a chicken – which were sitting on the counter-top decomposing. I held it together by covering my mouth,  covered the poor corpse with a few paper towels, composed myself a little more, and ducked into the refrigerator. It was then that I saw my oh so coveted eggplant parm… with what was an obviously genetically enhanced, cooked leg of a chicken, sitting on top of it – instantly tainted. And there went my appetite. The only winner being Fluffy, my dad’s awesome dog, ‘cause I wasn’t eating that sh*t – and she loved every bite of it. Unfortunately, I ate cashews and an apple instead. Only because I knew my body needed fuel. But most importantly because they hadn’t been tainted by a corpse damn near sitting in it.

It was at that point that I felt a little like a crazy man. Like I was born on the wrong planet, to the wrong parents, in the time. I mean, how else can it be explained where I have to live amongst a majority that so literally and continuously exploit animal – legally!

They obviously don’t see 'it'. And trust me, I get that. I didn’t for a long time either. But, boy… when you finally figure it out – my god is the change like night and day. I see and hear stuff on a daily basis that makes me question my existence on this planet. Makes me have to stop the work I’m trying to get done and collect myself and my thoughts for a moment. It keeps me up at night wondering what I’m supposed to do about it. It has me wondering how I’m supposed to deal. Seriously though, you can’t turn on a TV or watch a YouTube video without seeing an ad for some kind of ‘food’ that just looks like a poor dead animal covered in sauce (one of the major reasons I will not be using Google/YouTube to advertise; they obviously have no idea what they’re doing if I’m getting those ads). I can’t walk down a street without a seeing an ad from some fast-food restaurant I would never step foot in. I can’t even hang out with a group of people without them either asking why I’m vegan, how they could never do it, or some variation of both. It’s enough to drive a person mad. Hence the psychological help.

People that go to war come back and are gifted free counseling because of the post-traumatic stress they’ve endured. A troubled kid acting up in school gets the use of a counselor to help figure out why he’s rebelling. But where is our support? Vegans have to put up with far more death and destruction than any group that’s ever walked this planet. And it’s only because they choose to care. Seeing a chicken, wrapped in plastic, and sitting in a bed of Styrofoam, f*cking hurts me. It hurts my soul. And it makes me many times wonder what my reason to be on this earth is. I know that realistically no such counseling or support will ever exist.

I look at the animals that myself and other vegans save every day that we’re vegan as a reason to go on. A reason to smile and have optimism for the future. But it’s never easy… and certainly not ideal. That said, sticking together and community becomes more important to me with every passing day. Having friends I can vent to, or just go get some proper food with, is major. It all helps in the solidarity that keeps me active and happy, and away from ideas like going to jump off a bridge (extreme, I know). Plus, veganism is f*cking amazing. It really is. So, yes, you are probably a crazy vegan. But you have every right to be. And think about it for a second. If you’re crazy for not eating animals, wtf do you call a person that does? I don’t even think a word for that level of insanity has even been invented. At least not yet (Insano-crazer-ridiculoso?)

Peace…

Gerry Warren
Vegr Co-Founder, Entrepreneur, Speaker.
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