So, in the morning, in about six hours, I go for my monthly trache change. Usually, I’m really rather nervous about the procedure, especially right before, but this time I feel pretty good. I’m just not particularly afraid. I have to have it done, if I die, I die. There’s really no sense in worrying about it.
I mean, I’m generally less afraid of dying than I used to be, it’s just not as frightening. After December, I’m far more afraid of living, feeling completely lonely, miserable, wanting to die. I don’t ever want to feel like that again. It’s odd to explain. I’m not really afraid of dying, but I definitely don’t want to die. I want to live, and live spectacularly. There are people I really want to know better, there are so many things I have yet to experience. I’m totally capable of everything I want, I remember that now. I’m working toward what I want, and I’m not about to quit willingly. It’s going to take a fatally stupid trache change to stop me, hopefully not this one.
I have plenty more left to write.2 comments
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