I heard that an estranged friend got married recently – the one whose friendship I lost following the actions and lies of The Forgiven One. This lost friend probably hopes I rot in Hell after hearing all the untruths spoken about my lowly being, yet I am so happy to hear that he has found love and tied the knot. I wish him every happiness for the future – I really do. May he have a life of love, joy, good health and children. I hope he and his new bride enjoy all the things The Forgiven One stole from my future and will never know the pain of hardship and loneliness. I pray his wedding will inspire The Forgiven One to marry his girlfriend and start a family. It’s long overdue.
Strange things keep happening. Strange as in ‘otherworldly’. People think I’m crazy, but that’s nothing new. I don’t care; I know the truth. Something has come for me – not Death, something else. And we have met many times before, at the intersection of this world and the next. I am being watched and, possibly, protected. But why? For what purpose? I still don’t belong in this world, yet my presence here is being ensured by something greater than any living force.
The Past has had its last breath,
Killed by the Present with a swift, sharp blow,
All my worthlessness perished with its death,
I finally stand taller wherever I go.
I can do this. I really can. I can face anything that life has to throw at me. I write these words whilst going through one of the most awful challenges of my life, with no close friends nor solid family ties to help bind my grief. I am also unemployed, in ill health and falling back into debt. Yet, I know I can survive it all. Somehow, I know what needs to be done and where my story is heading. I can move forward. Can I beat the odds? Yes, I bloody well can. Watch and see.
I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t. I want to throw my worthless body from a bridge and find eternal peace. I am sick of living as less than everyone else. I am sick of being the odd one out. I am so tired of breathing in everyone else’s air; it was never meant to be wasted on the likes of myself. This world is for the valued – the loved and worthy. It is no place for the worthless. I hate living. I hate continuing through each day with the knowledge of my worthlessness. It weighs so heavily, my heart no longer exists. My chest cavity is filled with debris – rubbish, just like the rest of me.
I have enjoyed a lovely week compared to those in recent years and, for a day, I even felt valued and appreciated. Sadly, all good things come to an end and I have been unceremoniously dropped back into reality like a satellite falling back to Earth. I have been badly burned and my use is spent. I will never escape who or what I am. Yes, I feel sad and have shed many tears this afternoon but I am also calm. I am not panicked nor resentful. I just am. I exist. I am. I am… Me. I am… Myself. I am. That’s all. That’s everything. I am everything I always was, everything I am meant to be and everything I ever will be. My worthlessness is innate. It is who and what I am. I accept that. I am… Me.
This week, I have been trying to address my health. I am in a bad way and putting up a front for others is exhausting. Everything aches and my side burns like someone has rubbed chilli into an open wound.
I hate the pain in my abdomen. I wish it would die but it somehow lives on. The empty cavity to the left, where an ovary and fallopian tube once dwelled, must be a scarred, inflamed mass of angry, grieving tissue. That’s how it feels: my body is in mourning.
It hurts so badly, all day, every day. Even my right side, feels constantly provoked. My remaining ‘good’ ovary and tube are somehow being stirred into warfare, battling it out as the side able to cause the most agony. I want to stab myself over and over in both the left and right, to silence them once and for all. Just die you evil demons!
Endometriosis is a tool of the Devil and he’s trying to kill me with it. The pain is causing nausea and I want to puke until I expel my own internal organs. I want to feel nothing. I don’t remember how it feels to have a pain free day and a good night’s sleep. I yearn for both as intensely as I yearn for my worthlessness to no longer exist. How futile. I cannot change who I am. I cannot banish the pain and make myself worthy.
Instead, I search for relief – no matter how brief – through doctors and hospitals. This week has included a succession of medical appointments. I am fighting my pain with the weapons available but it’s like throwing cotton balls at a fire breathing dragon. Of course, I’m doing it anyway because if just one of those balls somehow makes it the through the flames and chokes the beast to death, then it will be more than worth the struggle.