I posted last week about repeatedly falling out of bed a few days earlier and ending up in the E.R. with respiratory failure from some type of Pneumonia. Fucked as my luck runs a few days later I was released to home care and cleared to go back to work. Of course I am far weaker than before the incident and my usual level of physical pain is now at least twice as intense as it was before.
I could barely do my job as it was. It takes me nearly two hours to get out of bed and dress for work – God only knows what next week will be like. As it has been for a long time, I’ve considered locking my office door and pissing in a jug that I could stash and then empty in the parking lot on the way out just to avoid the walk from my office to the rest room several times a day. I will never walk in the park or along the beach again, and if not for for home grocery delivery and internet stores I would have to hire someone to shop for me.
Work is a dog-eat-dog war zone and as hard as I have worked over the past ten years for the company (that is supposed to help persons with disabilities) I have lost 40% of my salary from being one of the first and hardest hit when we recently had to impose cutbacks and the current and new regime has no respect for me at all because they believe what I do isn’t necessary. I want out of this shit more than anything but I am incapable of pounding the pavement looking for a new job because even though I am extremely good at what I do, learn and follow through very effectively on everything I am tasked to do I have no fucking degree or any useful certifications. It is a death sentence that is never carried out.
I will likely have to face going back to work on Monday and I am terrified. Why am I incarcerated here? During my lifetime I have been hit by lightning at least twice, survived numerous racing accidents that should have killed me, failed at at two well-planned suicide attempts and sit here fucking alive after recent respiratory failure. If tears were pure cyanide somehow I would survive the hours of crying I do because of the pain that grinds through my useless and ugly body.
I just want to die. Today. Now Right FUCKING NOW.
4 comments
You’re fucked. That’s just how it is. Your life will continue to be horrible until the day you die. There’s nothing you can do except for suffer until you finally fucking die.
I think you have a lot of character.
In my particular case, “character” is about as useful as a third testicle on the Pope.
hahaha. The Pope has a cool hat. (Not sure about the 3rd testicle though).
Don’t listen to the negative comments that say you’re life is over. The truth is, life itself veers in the direction that we want it to go. If we’re constantly thinking, “I’m weak, I can’t do anything right. My best days are behind me,” then you’ll consequentially move into that direction. You’re affliction sounds serious, and if pushed, can lead to a very serious injury if not cautious. I guess what I’m trying to say is, don’t give up. I know that sounds cliche, but the truth is, it has a much deeper and multifaceted meaning. Dare to be brave. You say you cannot walk to the park? Do so. Prove yourself wrong. Taking that small step will tell your brain to continue moving forward with newer more challenging changes. For what its worth, I’m proud that your taking the effort to go to work each day. I believe that you can turn this storm around.