Lately I’m fighting with depression again. The poem I just shared, tells a bit. I’m so tired of being in pain every day. To wake up with and to go sleep with it. The Tilidin is helping barely but to increase dosage is not a good idea. It only makes me more sedated, but I need my brain. But most that bothers me is the fatigue. Wanna know my morning routine? When I stood up and had coffee, I cream my testogel, after washing my hands I need a rest for at least 30min because I’m so exhausted. Then I put some clothes on and brush my teeth before I need another 30min rest. And this is how my day goes on. After every small task I need to rest up. Of course I haven’t left my home in weeks, what is also not helpful to fight depression. But I just have no energy. I feel so empty and start to wonder, why am I still fighting? I have nothing to live for. I know that my disease isn’t going to get better, more it goes worse every damn day. There won’t be suddenly discovered a treatment, or in best case, a cure. I’m not living in a dream world. So why I haven’t given up already? Because I love my mum too much? She cares and helps me so much every day. Without her, I think I would be already dead. Maybe because of my writing. Is it worth to fight to survive, to be able to keep writing, working on my biography? I don’t even know if anyone would be interested in reading about my life. The struggle as an (undiagnosed) autistic kid, who then spent their puberty in hospital, where their got abused, and then when they think “Now you can start living” they discover they’re transgender and aromantic, abd start to wonder how this will affect their life now. And when you just think “Now finally everything goes into a good way”, the lymphangiom starts to become worse than ever before. Holds you in bed with intense almost not bearable pain and you have to rest the half of the day and needing that energy what’s left for self-care so you’re halfway presentable and not starving to death.
I don’t know if this all makes sense. Or if it’s worth living and fighting. I’m just very empty, tired and desperated. I don’t want to die, but I want to stop suffering.