I still have the IV patches on one arm and the hospital band on the other...
Right now, I'm still not processing any of it.
The only thing I was thinking about while in the ER was what would happen next, how out of nowhere my life is so compromised.
"If I survive this, I'll make sure to live life better, to make the most of it."
Today, everything is empty.
When you get sick or have an accident, what you expect is a solution... that's what I was waiting for, a reason and something to fix it.
They told me I should be happy to have survived, but nobody talks about the fine print.
Turns out it's a chronic condition again, that at any moment I'll have another attack that will cause me so much pain I'd rather be dead.
And that I'm going to have facial paralysis again.
They can't keep you hospitalized forever when the condition is lifelong.
Another one... more suffering, more fear...
"Needs 24/7 treatment and observation." "Any anxiety or stress crisis will cause this again."
How am I supposed to stay calm?
I still have trauma from my first paralysis when I was just a kid—my life fell apart, unable to move my muscles, to speak, to close an eye, to eat. Since that day, I haven't been able to smile.
And now, again... now I have no hope of getting past this.
I am not the dreamer I used to be.
I spent the whole day crying from grief because I didn't want to die, seeing how close to the edge I was, and how nobody outside my family seemed to care.
It's clear: one day I'll die and the world will keep spinning, and you guys or the people I once called "friends" won't even care.
I keep getting notifications for drawings from days ago. That's just how everything works—you see something on the internet and you have no idea the artist is dying in a hospital, and even if you knew, you wouldn't care or be affected by it.
I'm tired of everything and of myself. It doesn't matter what I do or what I dedicate myself to, there are always fake people around me. I never asked for that.
My mom stayed with me all day, my sister brought me clothes and my tablet so I'd have something to do while hospitalized. Only my family is there.
It makes me sad that my childhood self, whose only wish was to have friends, can think they have someone, but in reality, no one is ever truly there.
I have horrible trauma from crying in public, the result of constant mistreatment, but I can't take it anymore—crying everywhere, no matter who is present.
I can't stand it anymore.
Another chronic condition to add to the list. Knowing I'll suffer more attacks for the rest of my life, knowing I'll have paralysis again, and as an adult, it could be irreversible.
Why should I want to smile? Why do I even have to try? I don't even know what to draw on my tablet. Jack gave me hope; I spent the whole time tracing the keychain of him I ordered from my shop just to calm myself down... but in moments like these, above all, reality hits you harder: even if looking at him calms me, he's still just a character, and that's it. Nobody is going to cure me, nobody will save me, nothing and no one stops you from dying out of nowhere one day.
I still can't feel anything in my body, I still can't speak. I can barely handle the despair of not being able to talk—and I've been like this for a week! What's the difference between this and being dead? At least that way, I wouldn't be suffering mentally...
I can barely use the stylus on the tablet, and only because it's digital can I draw without applying pressure. I have no strength. Me, whose greatest trait is lifting heavy things, can barely hold my phone, and even that exhausts me...
I'll keep posting things, I guess. I don't know what to do about the contest; this is no time to celebrate.
What if I die tomorrow?
