I was on the verge of taking myself off the ventilator in Aug. There was no motivation to continue. My health deteriorated and I didn't feel I had any right to live. I felt grateful and yet- I struggled to understand the pattern of my life. The failures and the misses that kept hitting me one after the other. Personally and professionally.
I was battered. I am no victim. And yet- I had no more will to fight. For or with anything/anyone. And yet- I decided I will continue to live on the ventilator- well I could afford one for some more time and if anyway- I wanted it to cut, I might as well do it some other day.
That's hope. Hope that my life and my dreams that I once upon a time had will have a chance to come true despite the difficult times.
I am running out of it now. I have nothing to speak about. My brain has nothing to think about. All I see is fracas around me. Despite the gratitude. Tonight I shall still fight hoping tomorrow is brighter. Brighter what? Or brighter how- I know not.
Breathe. In.... Out.... That's the lumpen I am.
Irony is when the universe decides to teach you something, it takes everything off you. You are in the deepest and the darkest and the most loneliest corners in life. And you just try and gasp in the hope that you get to breathe. In.... Out..... Soon.
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