I want to die, but uttering that sentence seems to turn people into gibbering fools with the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone. I wish I’d never been born, but people are quick to disagree with this personal emotional assessment. I hate my life, but given that I have a boyfriend and son who each adore me, that seems like a profoundly selfish and whiny thing to say. It takes a real effort not to hate my mother.
These are the thoughts I’ve been having this month, that I didn’t know how to speak, because I doubt strongly anyone wants to hear them. Before someone inevitably drops to the comments before reading anything beyond the first sentence let me explain: I want to die. I want to be dead. I want to stop being in constant unrelenting lifelong PAIN. But I know that my suicide is not an acceptable option. It would not end my pain, merely shift the burden of it onto my boyfriend and son, as economically dishonest as anything done by Wall Street.
And I do wish I’d never been born. Maybe my mother would’ve been happier; she could scarcely have been less happy. No one wanted me to be born when I was, and I have carried that my entire life. My mother tried, at times, to convince me the deep competitive rift I felt forming between my sister and myself was entirely my doing, and that she didn’t really prefer my sister. Maybe emotionally she still believes that, because admitting the truth wouldn’t fit in with her values system. I don’t know. I do know that being born into a family that resents you, can’t afford you, didn’t plan for you, and fundamentally does not want you is a pain that has not yet subsided with time.
And then there’s the physical pain. I really don’t talk about this much. Pain is, after all, a boring topic. But let’s get into it a little, for this occassion at least, so you can understand why it is I’m so tired of life. I have three chronic pain conditions: tendonitis, rhuematoid arhtiritis, and endometriosis. I am frequently naseous and puking, or having even grosser symptoms of stomach upset leftover from the ulcers I had earlier this year. Every single day I am in pain. The only questions are where I am in pain and how severe the pain is. My uterus, hip, knees, ankles, fingers, and lower spine are all hurting at this exact moment.
And of course, if I was wealthy or even middle class, I could address these concerns. Most women I’ve met online with endometriosis have health insurance. They can simply get the endometrial growths lasered off. I on the other hand have the same medical advancements available to me as a woman in the 1700s.
I chipped a tooth two weeks ago – one right in the front where everyone is guaranteed to look and judge me – and there is absolutely no way I can afford to get it capped, crowned, replaced, or even filed down so the sharp corner of it doesn’t cut my tongue and bottom lip. I hate looking in the mirror because I think I am disgustingly hideously ugly because we haven’t been able to afford makeup for more than a year. (If anyone wondered why I haven’t been making YouTube videos, lack of funds for simple self-care items like hair conditioner has played a huge role.)
So, here’s my whining bitching blog post. I hate my life and I wish I was dead. This is what poverty, neglect, abuse and pain does to a person. Even though I have a partner who loves me and a son who adores me, it’s not enough to counteract the lingering pains of my own horrible childhood or my multiple ailments. I think the world, at least my family, would’ve been better off without me. Certainly my own life would’ve been easier not-lived.