Left Behind

With the upcoming appointment at the UMCG hospital on Thursday, my life seems to have gained a definite touch of finality. This is the point which will determine whether I'll live or die. Literally.

I have been thinking for a long time about whether I could live without being able to accept anything about my body in the absence of any facts, and if so, how exactly I would do this. The answer I keep finding myself at over and over again is that there is no way I can do that. Trying to pretend everything is okay would break me, as it nearly did before. Distancing myself from anything related to emotions, feelings, friendship, relations and the bestial impulses inherent in humanity would break me, as it nearly did before.

Meanwhile the PTSD flashbacks I have been suffering for a number of years now keep worsening, not least because the direct causes of the PTSD haven't been removed yet. I'm still caught in the web of lies, deceit and ignorance the medical world in this backwards country has spun around me, and coming Thursday my last chance at escaping from it will most likely be taken away.

Maybe if I hadn't been afflicted with this PTSD I might be able to hang on, but I honestly do not know how long I can deal with these constant flashbacks and the pure agony they bring with them. There's nothing I'd wish more than to be rid of these images, these feelings which keep haunting me every waking moment and disturb my sleep.

Meanwhile I see everything and everyone around me move ahead with their lives, yet I don't seem to be able to partake in any of it. I really don't feel like I belong anywhere, that I'm needed by anyone. Well, that isn't entirely true... but the people who actually do care about me can be counted on the fingers of just one hand.

I abhor the idea of suicide. I merely just want to close my eyes and drift off into an eternal sleep, not have to deal with painful and crippling methods aimed at afflicting one's body sufficiently to make it cease functioning. I want to find peace and quiet, not more pain and anguish.

So where do I go if Thursday turns out as disastrously as I expect it to? I honestly don't know... but at least most people who read this won't have to care.


Maya