Wishing, praying, dreaming. It's all the same. I'm starting to think that hoping is going to be in the same useless category too. I can't stand it anymore. My infection. My health. Being stranded in constant, recurrent illness, and inability to enjoy life. If I could go back in time, I would have done things different. Learn more about my body, take better care, and really keep things simple. If I could detach the lower half of my body right now, I would. I wish we were like toys, every part connected by hinges that can be replaced. It's too hard to be human. Or to be alive at all. If anything, I wish I was a walking tree. No blood, no organs. All I need is water and sun. So basic. We're so complicated. Things become more tragic much easier.
I hate my body like no other. I could care less what I look like on the outside right now, but on the inside, it's messed up. As I daydream, I figured that maybe if I stayed in New York, I would've been okay right now. I was never sick there. Just some minor stuff but it was never the serious stuff. Stuff that involves me going to an Infectious Disease Specialist Physician. Stuff that involves me not only going to that type of doctor, but many other specialists because this infection got complicated. Now I have a multitude of healthcare providers on my cellphone. I trust them. But I don't trust my body. I'm telling it to fight, but I don't think it's putting up any guns anymore. I feel like my organs are damaged. This infection is prolonged, spanning almost half a year now and I'm not completely better. If anything, I am worse. Who knows if months from now, I'll be even worser.
I almost want to be put into a coma, sometimes my infection is unbearable. I cannot concentrate, and don't even want to get out of my bed or chair. I'm confined to the bathroom. And I'm confined to my pills. Why can't I win. Why. Everything else is great and splendid. School is good, Friends are good, Lovelife is wonderful, Family is alright, and everywhere else in my body feels pretty sturdy. Nothing's perfect. But I would rather have things mediocre than having things 90% great and 10% drastically horrible and traumatic.
Give me a holiday, god. For the sake of everyone that's involved in helping me to get better. My parents, my boyfriend, my soul.
1 comment:
I really hope that you get better. And I truly believe that it will help you physically heal if you keep fighting mentally as well. It's difficult not to feel defeated but I think you can get over it. I think you should question what do you think is different between your life in NY and at home. Good luck, sweetie.
I'll send you an email soon
xx
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