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2023-03-07 / 11:15 a.m.

Struggling with sleep. Finding it hard to find the motivation. Skin torn in the folds, skin torn on the back of my hands from putting them into my pockets, skin torn around my scabs because in my sleep I can’t stop picking. Left eye twitching, its fifth birthday in May. Left finger twitching for want of help rather than for want of a husband.

Sitting on my bed. Hair a wet, matted nest. An old towel wrapped around me, and even after all those years I still couldn’t tell you what the writing on it says. I have such indecision fatigue. I have a higher likelihood than the average person to have ADHD. An estimated six times more likely. Afraid to go to the doctor again because she doesn’t laugh, but I know what it feels like to have somebody appease you just so that you’ll leave.

Gaslit for twenty-eight years until I accidentally received a diagnosis I had stopped looking for. Only after I had taken the wrong decision, which impacts me in an intolerable way for the rest of my life. And I’m the only one that has to deal with it. Our healthcare system is in the shitter. I’ve been on waiting lists for six years. I wonder if the reason these lists get shorter is just because people are dying.

I’m so medically traumatised, but instead of acting fearful, my brain turns itself off and my body is turned over to medical hands.
That’s what it always comes back to. Medical trauma. Medical hands.

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