Survival Without a Reason to Survive

I've survived some of the craziest s**t a human being can endure, and it's led me to take an extreme self-reliance viewpoint. I've been the one telling myself that everything will be okay (even though it wont, and never will be) for years now. I still remember being scared out of my mind, going in and out of seizures; with a broken leg and sideways foot, and being the one to put my fractured psyche back together. If I come off as weird...there's a valid reason for it. If you don't understand, that's fine, I don't live my life to fit into a filing cabinet in your mind. I am a lot of things, but I am not dishonest, and I am not weak. You don't know what it's like to teach yourself how to walk again 5 times in 5 years. Or what it's like to be going in and out of seizures, so severe that an x-ray tech thought you were faking, while pleading with every god you've ever heard of to be able to walk again.

Don't judge until you've lived through what I have. I guarantee, you'd be a shaking mess from all the trauma. It took more work than you'll ever really know just to be able to smile. I spent years getting into the best shape of my life, actually was able to run again...after years of having issues with it. Then my back reached a point where I could've lost the use of my legs and dick (because one of the fractures never healed and led to what's called a slip) and a surgeon fed me drugs and intentionally fucked up my back surgery. I was bedridden for months. I walked around with loose metal in my back, and a vertebra that was trying to slip off of my spinal column, for a year. Then I broke my leg a month before the 11 hour back surgery to fix the intentionally failed one. I was abused because of my race in the hospital...when I was bedridden, broken psychologically from breaking my leg, alone and scared. it's a year and a half later, and I still limp with both legs and need to use a cane to get around. I still have to use a wheelchair if it's too far for me to gimp around.

I've watched my body fall apart for the last three years; with nothing I could even do about it...except cry my eyes out, alone, and pray for death. I've basically stopped even trying to be social, I realize I physically can't handle (or financially afford) most things people want to do, and I prefer not to feel like an inconvenience. I've spent so much time alone I don't even really know how to talk to people any more. It's like I speak a different language. I've learned to not even talk about what my life is like, because I realize it makes people feel awkward to hear about something so hopeless. I'm going to die alone, unknown, and end up the prophet of another generation. Life is such a farce; and I'm leaving this disc behind, no matter the cost!

Author's Note

8/5/17

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

This is hard-hitting, a very tough tale which I assume is true. You don't want to hear my story, so suffice it to say that I can, in more than one way, relate to your situation. It seems you're a survivor, so that's no small thing. Subject aside, your writing is excellent.

[Jonny The Savage]

Thank you! Yeah, sadly, it's all true; I'm not creative enough to come up with that level of detail for my fiction. I appreciate the kind words a lot.