I was happy before the pain began. I was a better person.
Going on three years now of a mystery illness that’s drained me of who I am. Been to several doctors this past year, took a whole year off from college and still no answers. I have just continued to feel worse and worse. I have lost all functionality as a human being. My family now expects me to get a job because at 22 I can’t be taken care of forever but I can’t work.
I don’t want to kill myself because of a lack of caring on anyone’s part. My family has helped me in trying to figure out what’s going on with me. No, I plan to kill myself out of necessity. I understand society needs people that can contribute to it. Anyone, especially a young man who should be able-bodied, that can’t do that is worthless to the machine. I can’t contribute and I can’t continue to suffer without doctors having any clue what’s wrong with me.
The worst part of this whole process were the several times I thought I had figured it out. I experimented with so many different things this past year that helped for a day to one week and thought “finally, my suffering is coming to an end” only to have life slap me in the face. I barely remember what normals feels like. I can’t stand to continue to disappoint myself and others who make a request of me, no matter how simple, and having to respond with “no, I can’t do that”.
I feel bad even admitting this but for the past three days I have daydreamed about suicide…
If you talked to me 3 years ago before all this began I would have told you I was amongst the happiest people in the world. I feel as though there really is some balance to this life. Had an amazing childhood filled with high on life moments and now it’s the exact opposite as though life couldn’t end fast enough.