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The damn pain doesn’t stop uggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

The fever got better a little at least.

But the fucking pain, man.

It’s so frustrating that is so difficult to cry for me (always been like that). At least that could be liberating.

While I could barely talk due to the severe pain, the nurse sees my grotesquely scarred arm and decides to tell me my parents must be there for me. I told her that I’m practically orphaned, no brothers or sisters either. She doesn’t know what to say for a minute and then in all of her ignorance concerning mental illnesses, she says that it doesn’t matter because “my mother is protecting me from the sky and god is there”. In all my pain, I couldn’t do anything other than to laugh. I tried to be polite;  ”Sorry, but I don’t believe in YOUR god.” Was the only thing I could mumble.
I’m tired of these discourses, honestly. Even when the people who knew my mom assure me she loved me, and I can’t do nothing except listening politely because I don’t want to hurt them. The only thing I remember when someone tells me “oh, you were so loved”, is the taste of blood in my mouth and how familiar it was, always. If you are intelligent you can figure it out what I mean. “Then why you didn’t told anyone then?” How could I? I was a child and scared. When I told someone I got punished even worse. Or gaslighted. This is not an unheard story. Sadly, is QUITE common. When I was older only a handful of people believed me (if even), and most of them where abuse survivors too.
Because such is the nature of abuse. Everyone wants to be seen as an advocate against it, but in real life, everyone wants to close their eyes,  ears and mouths, and take for granted that my scarred body doesn’t exist (among other scarred bodies), living in that happy drunk lie called self imposed ignorance.

Got a severe infection and yesterday got hospitalized for a day. It was hell. I barely remember some parts of the incident due to the pain and high fever. It can sound exaggerated, but for a moment I thought I was going to die. They released me at night because of the lack of space, and still feel like hell with hours and hours of torturing chills, myalgia, high fever ( at the time in the hospital it scaled to 40 degrees, I couldn’t even walk). They doctors gave me a lot of medicine but if it doesn’t get better I’ll have to get back to the hospital for worse.
I’ve been in so many hospitals this year it’s crazy and cruel, I’m getting triggered more and more and the prospect to go back leaves me terrified.

The only thing I can thank is that the health care in this country is amazing.
But I don’t want to be a patient anymore. I’m literally agonizing right now.


El Greco (y taller) - San Francisco de Asís y el hermano León meditando sobre la Muerte.


El Greco (y taller) - San Francisco de Asís y el hermano León meditando sobre la Muerte.


I need a 38 caliber bullet but made of wood. Made from the hardest and most dense wood that you can find. I’d suggest guaiacum wood, Lignum Vitae, maybe snakewood, Piratinera Guianensis or possibly african black wood, Dalbergia Melanoxylon.

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