I want to die.
I’m so tired of struggling, so tired of fighting, so tired of it being insinuated that my life is meaningless because I’m not good enough at being a minority.
Yesterday was supposed to be a good day. It was supposed to be the beginning of the process to start my chest reconstruction surgery. Instead it ended with me wanting to wrap my car around a tree at 140 mph, and quite frankly the only reason I didn’t was because I wasn’t alone in the car on the five hour trip back home. Killing myself is one thing, taking someone else out with me is totally different, and no matter how depressed I get, or how suicidal I am it’s not something I could ever do.
I drove over 200 miles, one way, just to have some lackey of the surgeon I was supposed to have a consultation with tell me I was too fat for them to operate on. Then she kept asking if I wanted to see pictures of their results…The surgeon couldn’t even be bothered to see me, even after these people knew I was driving from near Albany, NY to Rochester, NY.
In 2007 I injured my back, I hurt it while I was working at Fred’s in Piggott, AR but since I didn’t realize it until the following day, the company basically told me to go fuck myself. I ended up going to the ER, where I was given multiple shots in my back and told to get some rest. I haven’t been out of pain since that day.
When I first tried to see a medical professional about the severe pain in my lower back, I was told it was because I was overweight. None of the doctors that I saw in Arkansas wanted to even listen to the fact that I had been injured, it was all because I was overweight.
Then I moved to Virginia, where I was told that I had nerve damage in my lower back and I was given a referral to a pain management specialist. When I went to see the pain management specialist I was then told that I would live every day for the rest of my life in pain, but because I was so young (25 years old) there was nothing that they (the pain management specialists) were going to do. I was too young to be taking pain killers. So I was sent on my way with the knowledge that each and every day I was alive from then until I died I would be hurting.
Since then, I’ve tried to see doctors about losing weight, but now that I present as male I’ve been repeatedly told “just exercise” or “you’re just building muscle”. The latter is every doctor’s excuse for the weight gain I’ve had despite exercising to the point where I feel like I’m about to pass out and eating about a quarter of what I ate before my initial back injury some ten years ago. None of the doctors want to run any tests to find out why I’m gaining weight, it just must be all that muscle gain…
No one wants to help, or even listen and do their job. They just want me out of their office so they don’t have to deal with me anymore. This isn’t just one or two doctors though, is this nearly every doctor I’ve been to in the past five years. I stopped drinking soda, and rather than loosing weight which what one doctor proclaimed would happen, I gained weight.
I’m not rich, in fact quiet the opposite is true. The only reason I’m living in a house right now is because a really great couple took my family in when we had no where else to go and were living in a tent. I’m not skinny, I’m damaged goods and I’m male. All of which equate to my life isn’t worth the paper my birth certificate was printed on.
Why should I even bother to fight anymore?
I’m constantly in pain. The one thing that I was stupid enough to get my hopes up for has just been taken away because of issues that no doctor wants to deal with…my quality of life is so low it’s not even funny.
I can’t even function in society.
I’m so tired.