One Foot In the Grave

What I want the world to understand is this was not the story that I was born to be the main character of. I was born to have my family and my happy ending until evil interjected and had their say. What was once a life filled with promise and happy memories would be a lifetime of me waiting with one foot in the grave.

It started simple didn’t you know. Born to two parents who seemed to be a happy and in-laws who had property that they shared with us life seemed to be a dream. Well into society decided that they needed to have their say.

I was terrified of everybody. What was their motive for being here and what did they want? It was impossible for me to make friends with just anybody so I sunk into the darkest corners content on playing with myself.

I thought I wanted what everybody else had but I had no idea what that meant. All I wanted was a chance to belong with a crowd of people who would never appreciate my existence or even come to know my name.

I was alone. Suffering in silence as the oxygen that ran through me began to be replaced with something else. At 13 my body began to behave almost erratic and incredibly different making it impossible for me to ever be able to fit in.

My thoughts were cloudy and my anxiety was high. How I wish that something would come for me in the middle of the night so I could take my last breath and die. I hated myself and everything that I was. How could these feelings be this strong when I was merrily just a kid?

My diagnosis of being anemic came at a very young age. It was the label that came and found me to remind me of the monster that I was capable of being. I killed a baby when I was just a child because I had no idea what that meant. I was guided by people I trusted who threw me away as soon as they could, so that’s what they did.

Nobody tells you that when you lose that kind of blood there is a chance that you can’t replenish your own. They don’t tell you the side affects that will sure to come when there is a lack of oxygen taking up residency in your brain.

For all the times I tried to get help there was another friend waiting in the wings to slap me in the face. There is nothing wrong with you, you are perfectly healthy just take an anti-depressant and be on your way.

Growing up in the 90’s we were the generation to be heavily medicated. You weren’t cool unless you were prescribed something so we all became junked out instead. It was far easier to deal with ones emotions when one was numb inside. At least that is what I was told when the boy that I was seeing decided to sleep with everything that moved. It was my problem that my heart was broken and I was forced to do anything to stop those tears from falling too.

For every emotional time in my life I was pushed aside and left alone to cry. Nobody wants a persona that they believe to be highly irrational around them in fact my sister cut me off from ever being around her family. Sure it was tough to watch a young family growing up. The pain that I felt from not being able to hold and love my daughter would be a lump in my heart that would never go away.

Crazy to think that this journey started almost 30 years ago when I was just a kid. I don’t like to imagine the what if’s and what could have been’s and try to honour the decisions that were made. Sure I hold my head down in shame. Anytime my head is down it is because the pain in my heart just won’t go away. I wonder what I would have done differently if I would have been privy to the information of those in my life who were always going to stay.

If I can’t get my numbers to change I am for surely going to die. It’s inevitable. I can’t believe that it has come to this but I grow more and more tired each day. With no compassion and understanding I walk around this place with one foot in the grave. I can’t remember a day in my life when I was able to just simply breathe.

As the oxygen depletes in my body everything screams for recognition that it is going to be ok but I can’t make those kind of promises with meals being few and far between. I cough because I can’t breathe and I can’t help it when those attacks come to stay. I know it is annoying for those that are around me but I promise you I hate living this way.

I used to be a smoker, 6 years ago, but I cut all those activities all off. I wonder if it was my son being born that triggered this moment, all things considering when it came to delivering they had to cut me in half. With none of my blood type on hand I was forced to replenish my own source. Wouldn’t you know I am not even halfway to being there with my numbers being in the 80’s instead of being close to 200 like they normally should.

What I wish that people knew about me is my whole life can be medically explained. The fatigue, the weakness, the annoyance wasn’t just something taking up residency in my brain. When somebody is constantly pushed to the side they begin to do the same thing with themselves. If nobody recognizes the value inside of somebody how can they be expected to recognize that beauty within themselves too?


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