suicide

Cruel and Beautiful World…

Life is bland – the air is stale and there’s something inside me screaming. It’s on a reel going over and over again. Broken on repeat… I can’t see anything; no future, no hope – there’s nothing there… It’s okay trying to be positive but when I’m worsening like I am it’s frightening. I may have a physical identity but I have no idea who or what I am other than their ambiguous loss… and a cripple… this is not okay and it never will be… not with all this pain involved. I’m not sure how much longer I can take this for – it’s my worst nightmare – I’m trapped inside my own body – I just lay here suffering and it’s only getting harder – this is no life to lead. It’s no life at all… It’s hell in a cruel yet beautiful world… How can that be so…?

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Doubt…

I never used to stay in. I was always on the go – either working or out and about doing this, that and the other. I get bored easily and never had much of an attention span. I was always up for new adventures and had every intention of living life to the full. I was a doer, a perfectionist needing everything neat, tidy and put in exactly the right places. I took pride in my appearance and may have taken my fair share of recreational drugs – it seems I’ve always searched for an escape but there’s no escaping this…

It really bothers me when others doubt my situation implying I am choosing this way of life – it bothers me even more when that doubt comes from the health service. I worked since the day I left school and got my first part-time job aged 13. I don’t enjoy hand-outs and certainly don’t enjoy spending all my time all couped up amongst the same old four walls, with a great view of concrete to take in with my morning brew. I’d give anything to have my old life back and the fact people actually think I want this life, enjoy not working, eating or sleeping and being in constant agonising pain, destracted by a thick black fog are seriously fucking ignorant…

Its been hurdle after hurdle over the last few years with a lot more ahead of me – but one of the most difficult thus far is the lack of recognition this absolute beast of an illness gets, and the pain us sufferers have to go through 24/7 – from my experience it appears only the pain clinics have heard of CRPS and where I live they aren’t even worth their name. Empathy is seriously lacking and the doubt received when telling of the pain takes the isolation to another level. Fair enough if friends, family and strangers think bad and doubt me with regards to my health and situation – that’s understandable with the amount of small minds there are in the world, but when the health service are the same, along with being clueless, the battle gets bigger and survival tougher…

But, I have to try to stay strong, and keep searching for the strength to carry on because suicide is not an option for me anymore – as easy as it would be I want to be a winner – I can not let CRPS beat me. Today has been an okay day!