I Am Forfeit

Currently in a state of Internal Catatonia… Run dry by the “politics” of the NHS…. and of being controlled by Everything But Myself — despite constant and varied BIG Efforts Upon Efforts of trying to make it otherwise… there seems to be nothing I am able to do to control the constantly failing body that I have, or what other people insist on doing despite everything from asking nicely to outright Demanding otherwise.

The worse things get, the more NHS Departments it seems I need to be seen by. The more my body fails, the more people needs to be added to The List of People I Have No Wish To See But Have No Choice In It… Well, short on not getting the diagnoses, help, treatment, medication or whatever, for whatever it is I’m seeing them for.

Ironically, they make me even MORE ILL, because seeing them causes MORE of the problems I am trying to AVOID or REDUCE. Where do you even draw the line? You HAVE to go, when they say so, or get thrown out — I don’t see how that’s anything but detrimental — I’m going because I’m ill; therefore expecting me to try and go when I’m actually TOO ILL TO GO is… Laughably Contradictory & Pure Idiocy. Why would it Ever Be OK to make me Even More Ill, just to force me into a consultation, when I’m then too out of it to string two words together…?

I can’t live my life for me; instead it just feels I am being forced to live my life to just… Survive? But then, if there IS NO ME… What IS the POINT of SURVIVING…. Exactly??

I Exist Day By Day, attempting to regain Lost Spoons, mental health, cognitive capacity & Fighting Blinding Exhaustion, All LOST due to the NHS: Failures, wait times, exacerbating & worsening illnesses through decisions and indecision, decisions made for Them without any consideration for my own health and wellbeing… That has SHATTERED what little there was left of me, in the first place.

I never get to manage something I might like For Myself — there’s never enough energy to play games or write much, to create stories or music, put on makeup or do… something — anything…!! — to or with my hair… There’s nothing left for even Basic Self Care, because even That is HUGE, by now.

Not when I can’t sleep or eat anymore. Not when I struggle to drink the smallest amounts. Not when I’m fighting with my body to literally breathe because literally moving is actually Too f’kg Exhausting for me, now.

Not when I have to change incontinence pants… or the dressing for my Suprapubic Catheter FOUR MONTHS after it was done, because there is STILL an antibiotic-resistant bacterial infection in it, that the hospital gave and has never been bothered to help with.

Not when every single day I can only allocate ONE THING To Do on that day. JUST ONE.

All THOSE Named Things take Huge Priority. After That… I can’t even manage The Basic of Basics — Let Alone Anything Else Asked.

After that One Thing has been done, I almost Entirely Literally can’t even manage to Move Around, after that.

The Energy even for Breathing is almost too hard to come by after That One Thing is done.

If I want to do something for Me, it has to be at The Cost — the Sacrifice — of anything and everything else. And IF anything comes up that is Vital, or requires High Processing, whatever it was that I WAS going to be doing is Entirely Forfeit.