I’m not sure I even want to keep fighting to survive anymore.
I mean, let’s face it. Even if someone provided for all my physical needs, I still wouldn’t work right. I’d still shit myself and shit the bed and shit blood. I’d still not be able to stand or walk like most people. I’d still be crazy. I still wouldn’t be able to get or keep a normal job. I still wouldn’t have friends or a support system.
So maybe I really would just be better off dead.
Maybe that’s just the hopelessness talking, though. Maybe I’d be much more emotionally equipped to deal with my illness and disability if I weren’t constantly worried about how to meet my basic needs.
Then again, I guess it doesn’t really matter because no one is going to take care of my needs for me. Nobody is going to save me, and I can’t save myself anymore.
I’m almost out of time.