I was close to death when I was 10 years old. My body started eating itself, and I was essentially starving even though I shoveled in massive amounts of food and drank tons of water. My bones were all sticking out, and I was incredibly emaciated. I had sunken in eyes, I was extremely pale, and I was vomiting for an entire week straight before I finally was taken into a hospital. I had my serum blood glucose checked and it was 7 times higher than the normal person, and I was diagnosed with diabetes.
After being rushed to the emergency room in an ambulance and staying in a hospital for a week, I learned that I was an hour away from falling into a coma and never waking up again. I also learned that I would have this shit for the rest of my life, and I would have to take insulin just to be normal. It was devastating for me back then, but I got over it.
Little did I know my life would become even more disappointing, and having diabetes would be the least of my miseries compared to my upcoming years. I have nothing fond to look back on in my teenage years, and the only thing I feel when my mind goes back to those times is sadness and anger.
I wish I could be a little innocent happy child again, before I knew how sick, fucked up/disgusting and how evil humanity is. In fact I want to be that child forever, with no more sorrow, no more disappointment, no more letdowns and unconditional empathy and compassion. Beyond my childhood, there is absolutely nothing meaningful or fulfilling that ever happened for me, and there is absolutely nothing that motivates me to do anything. I have zero drive to do anything, what's the fucking point anyway?
Hell, just getting up in the morning is difficult for me. And yet, countless miserable husks of men older than me get up really early in the morning, running on nothing but energy drinks and coffee to go work their unfulfilling soul-crushing jobs. All for a boss that hates them, just so they can have that small chance of happiness and crumb of affection they were abundantly shown in their childhoods, which will never come. Their lives will be unfulfilling, miserable, and then they will die. And it will be all for fucking nothing, because everything in this universe is totally meaningless and God does not exist. And if he does, I fucking hate him.
No wonder I love sleep so much, and no wonder getting up in the morning is such a drag. Whenever my brain is off, I no longer have any sorrow or sadness, just peace. If I hadn't gone to that hospital, I would've peacefully slipped into a coma and my life would've been over. When I was actually about to die, I felt a level of peace that I never felt before, as if my mind had somehow subconsciously accepted it's end. Why did I have to save myself? I should've died when I still actually mattered to people.
After being rushed to the emergency room in an ambulance and staying in a hospital for a week, I learned that I was an hour away from falling into a coma and never waking up again. I also learned that I would have this shit for the rest of my life, and I would have to take insulin just to be normal. It was devastating for me back then, but I got over it.
Little did I know my life would become even more disappointing, and having diabetes would be the least of my miseries compared to my upcoming years. I have nothing fond to look back on in my teenage years, and the only thing I feel when my mind goes back to those times is sadness and anger.
I wish I could be a little innocent happy child again, before I knew how sick, fucked up/disgusting and how evil humanity is. In fact I want to be that child forever, with no more sorrow, no more disappointment, no more letdowns and unconditional empathy and compassion. Beyond my childhood, there is absolutely nothing meaningful or fulfilling that ever happened for me, and there is absolutely nothing that motivates me to do anything. I have zero drive to do anything, what's the fucking point anyway?
Hell, just getting up in the morning is difficult for me. And yet, countless miserable husks of men older than me get up really early in the morning, running on nothing but energy drinks and coffee to go work their unfulfilling soul-crushing jobs. All for a boss that hates them, just so they can have that small chance of happiness and crumb of affection they were abundantly shown in their childhoods, which will never come. Their lives will be unfulfilling, miserable, and then they will die. And it will be all for fucking nothing, because everything in this universe is totally meaningless and God does not exist. And if he does, I fucking hate him.
No wonder I love sleep so much, and no wonder getting up in the morning is such a drag. Whenever my brain is off, I no longer have any sorrow or sadness, just peace. If I hadn't gone to that hospital, I would've peacefully slipped into a coma and my life would've been over. When I was actually about to die, I felt a level of peace that I never felt before, as if my mind had somehow subconsciously accepted it's end. Why did I have to save myself? I should've died when I still actually mattered to people.
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