10/1/19 3:48 pm (pst)
I’m in the ER. Last time I was here I was shaking, crying, losing my life. Now my body hurts. Over a year ago (almost two years ago) I died and was reborn. I lost a lot that day. But what i gained was so much greater.
This is happening for a reason. Something somewhere wants me to feel this pain Something somewhere wants me to know what it’s like. It hurts. I’m annoyed.
I’m around other kids who are all in pain. We’re all here for a reason. Maybe its a consequence of a mistake we made. Maybe is was an accident. Maybe we where predisposed to the pain. Or maybe we’re simply here to provide employment. Think about it, without people like us, people who are in pain and hurting, these nurses would be unemployed. If they lost their jobs their families would struggle financially until they can find a better source of income. We struggle so others don’t have to. Children cry so that their tears can water the garden of success of those who profit off our pain. Our health insurance. The hospital. The staff. Tylenol, Swiss Miss, Boost, and every other brand that’s used.
I’m not angry at the system. I just want to think of it as it is.
People make a living stopping people from dying.
There’s so many people in this room alone. For some, this is a scary place to be. For others, this is their calling. For me, this is where I’m supposed to be. I’m supposed to be here. In this chair. In this building. In this city. In this state. In this world. Something wants me here. I don’t believe in god or religion but what I do believe is that I’m going to get something out of this. At least, i hope i will.
10/2/19 8:39 am (pst)
I'm ok apparently. Someone I'll never see again told me I'm ok. Everything hurts but she knows more than I do. I'm "overreacting". I'm fine. Someone I just met told me I'm fine and that my body is fine yet it still hurts.
She's in scrubs. I'm in pain. It's "fine".
I cried myself to sleep last night. Not because it hurt. But because my feeling were "invalid". Someone with a degree told a teenager her body looks normal, therefore there is no pain. Everything I'm feeling couldn't be justified by someone with a higher education, therefore I'm wrong.
I'm sorry I wasted your time.
10/2/19 5:03 pm (pst)
Is that all I am to people? A problem? A pity case? A sob story with legs?
I never tell anyone how I really feel or what I'm really thinking because I know they won't believe me, they won't care, and if they do they'll think I want them to feel bad for me. I don't care if you feel bad or not. I only tell people when I'm physically suffering because if my body shuts down and anyone cares enough to call an ambulance, they'll have a slight idea as to why I collapsed. I don't care if you sympathize with me.
Now I'm angry. At myself. I feel like I walked myself into this. If hadn't said I was feeling bad, I wouldn't have made anyone concerned. I wouldn't have waisted anyones time. I wouldn't have pissed him off and he wouldn't have made me feel like no one cares. He wouldn't have told me that the diagnosis is more important to him than my mental stability. I wouldn't be so bitter at the fact that no one bothered to ask how I felt.
If I knew how to shut up things would be so much more different. No one would be angry. No one would lose their temper. Because no one would be here. Because I wouldn't let them. Because if a year and a half ago I knew how to filter myself and I had some sort of self control I wouldn't have been with anyone, because i would have been dead.