Abusive Disease Makes Me Jealous of People in Wheelchairs and People with Cancer

I used to be jealous of people in wheelchairs and people with cancer.   The most cruelest part of my impossible disease has been the complete unpredictability of every moment of my life.  With that comes instability.  Chaos.  Inability to have some consistency, even if it be trapped in a wheelchair or a routine of cancer treatments and expected pain.   At least for those people, I used to think, there’s some ground to build your life on, even if it’s swamp mud, it’s at least you know enough of what will happen in the next minute, next hour to plan your day.

I don’t think I’ve ever touched the ground.  I’ve never really known what gravity in one’s life is like.  To know which way is up, which way is down.  You need gravity to have a foundation and go anywhere.

Complete unpredictability is a most effective psychological torture technique to break a person’s will and make someone go crazy.

I’ve often looked at people in wheelchairs with envy.  Some news reporter would say, such and such “lost the ability to walk and her life as she knew it was over.”  Yet, that person has a new life, predictable, that they can eventually get used to.  Yes, its a tragedy that they couldn’t go on living as they once did, but they had a new life waiting for them, only with a different set of rules.  I can’t commit to anything in my life, build any part of my life, and expect it to stand instead of vanishing randomly.  Not all, but many with handicaps can do rehab and build other skills with their now “modified” bodies, but still bodies that follow some rules so rehab centers can help these handicap people grow step by step.

There’s apparently no correlation with the work i put in myself and the results. Without ever knowing you can get a certain result by putting in certain work, and have that result be constructive, progressive, encouraging, it’s nearly impossible to have motivation to do anything.  What i mean is, whether I try to get stronger or not, i have the same chance of getting punched in the face, hit by a hammer, washed in acid, or getting a tiny treat, it’s hard to find the motivation to try.  Doing the work has no effect on my life’s outcome.  I’ve often felt helpless and hopeless.

i wish I could know what would happen next. Even if it’s something terrible, at least I can mentally and emotionally prepare for it instead of the whole of my soul exposed. How do you cope with that? If I am to die, it’d bring some comfort to know when and how, so I can say my goodbyes instead of constantly in fear of the unknown. At least allow my heart be settled!

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