They got me on some kind of sleep medicine–type stuff because I am awake in the middle of the night and I am pretty sure I’m not supposed to be awake
I’m pretty sure there is something standing in the corner of the hospital room. Not sure if it’s a nurse or not because it’s too dark, but my beeping is still going, which means I’m still alive, and I can type, which means my brain is still connected to my hands, but there are daggers in my throat every time I swallow, and I can feel a deep brown bruise throbbing where the IV is pumping food in, or blood out, I’m not sure at this point
I remember someone sticking a long cold needle in my butt cheek
This blanket is so itchy but when I take it off it feels like ice in the air, way too cold
I can’t bite down all the way, I don’t know what’s in there
My eyeballs ache
I tried to do some reading on the Internet but this thing isn’t hooked up to the Wi-Fi and I have honestly been sitting here awake for perhaps hours just trying to figure out what that white thing in the corner is
It doesn’t disappear so it’s not those floaty things across your vision
It doesn’t move so it’s not a human being
It’s too big to be a curtain or coat rack
All I can do here is wait for the sun, which I have no idea of knowing how close or far away I am from the setting or rising because someone fucked with my computer battery and the time is just blinking 12, 12, 12
So I wonder if I am supposed to remember when I went to sleep
Maybe they didn’t give me anything at all
Maybe I just don’t know
Kill me now.
Here’s a shock: According to my doctors, a person with mild retardation can’t go to college, can’t live in a city away from their parents, and eventually will barely be able to think for themselves. It doesn’t matter if I still have the ability to communicate and walk and think right now, because apparently, in addition to being doctors, they are fucking SOOTHSAYERS and they know these things. So they have decided to break my dreams and render my life completely meaningless.
I was like, “How do you know? The episodes could still be really rare!” WHICH IS ACCURATE ACCORDING TO PROBABILITY AND LOGIC. THREE BREAKDOWNS OVER FIVE MONTHS DOES NOT EQUAL IMMINENT DANGER. THAT IS LITERALLY A TWO PERCENT RATE ON ANY GIVEN DAY.
The sickening fucking look Dr. Clarkington had, like she was simultaneously crying and letting out a fart, when she said, “I’m sorry, Sammie. There’s nothing we can do.” I almost punched her in the face.
If there’s nothing you can do, then why are you fucking with me, huh? There’s plenty of things I CAN STILL DO. LIKE GO TO COLLEGE. Great, now I’m crying.
Now they’re telling me none of it will ever happen. If my mom’s chant is mmhmm, mmhmm, then my new chant is this will never happen.
I love to-do lists! How about lists of things I will never do! How about it! I can list everything I’ve ever wanted for myself, and after it the phrase, “This will never happen.”
NYU: this will never happen.
Stuart Shah: this will never happen.
Harvard Law: this will never happen.
The UN: this will never happen.
Everything is over, and I will die.