Yesterday I said that maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel. I had an appointment with my consultant. It was the beginning of the end of this miserable existence of pain and half living. That is what I thought. That is what I believed.
I was wrong.
There is no light at the end of the tunnel because the tunnel never ends. What I thought was a light was a train, come to knock me down a deep, black pit with greased sides. There is nothing for me, no hope, no future, no cure. I am nothing but this, this crippled useless hulk. Held back by a body that doesn’t work half right and is constantly falling apart. I’m falling apart. I feel shattered and broken and numb. All of my hopes and dreams were riding on this and in a twenty minute appointment and kindly doctor who wished he could help me smashed everything into tiny pieces.
How can I ever live my dreams? How can I ever write when I will never be well enough to attend university? How will I ever travel when I have to get a new drug prescription every three weeks from my GP? How can I ever act when I can barely walk? I already knew I would never dance again, but this brings that knowledge back to me again and again and again. Never again will I fly with the music, as graceful as a swan. Never again will I will beautiful and powerful and strong and elegant as I glide through the movements of a dance. Never again will I be able to push myself to the limit in a new class. How can I still be breathing when I know I will never truly live?
What is left for me? Every day, I sit at home, useless and unhappy. I cannot live out my potential. I cannot live out a life worth having.
My broken hip cripples me in ways you cannot possibly imagine. I cannot walk up stairs properly, I cannot climb hills like I used to love to do, I cannot sit on the floor, I cannot bend down to pick things up, I cannot sleep on anything but the most comfortable surface, I cannot be a lover when sex hurts my hip after just a few minutes. I cannot walk very far, I have to use a stick whenever I leave the house, I have to spend every day uncomfortable and in pain and putting up with being a goddamn burden on everyone else. I have to live with people staring at me everywhere I go. I have to answer the same goddamn stupid question every day.
I have nothing to look forward to, nothing to hold on to. I have no future ahead of me. No plans. Nothing of any consequence. I shall live and die unfulfilled and lonely. I have to live with the knowledge that I am ruining the lives of everyone around me. I have to be a leech on society, adding nothing to the greater good. I have nothing to bring, nothing to give. Just this.
My father was right. The only choice of a cripple with no hope for a future is to crawl into an incinerator and kill myself.