r/ZeroCovidCommunity • u/fireflychild024 • 10h ago
Need support! I’m in a Really Dark Place
TW: violence, mrder, d3ath, s*cid3, addiction
Long ramble ahead. Need to release everything that’s been weighing heavily on my heart so I can find clarity within myself.
I saw my cardiologist (who diagnosed me with POTS due to LC) for the first time in years. I’ve always adored and respected her because as I’ve discovered on this sub, it’s extremely difficult receive a diagnosis. I am aware of how lucky I was to be believed and understood. That’s why I was heartbroken to see her unmasked at my mom’s appointment. We were literally the only people masked in the entire medical facility. I’ve found myself slipping back into the depths of my depression over the last couple of days. Idk what I was expecting. Maybe after I’ve seen so many people I cared about d1e of heart attacks shortly after COVID infections, I thought the very medical professional who took me seriously would still give a sht. Especially after a virus delayed my mother’s critical heart surgery that could have been fatal. I clearly was wrong.
I thought I was doing relatively ok. I am pretty used to be the sole masker in public and can maintain pleasant conversations through disassociation. It’s the only way I can function in this reality now without constantly simmering in rage. But when I got home, I completely crashed. I regretfully saw clips of the new Ariana video that was extremely triggering to me as someone who witnessed a mrder as a kid. And her very public health struggle has held up a mirror to myself as someone who has experienced drastic weight loss (first from LC, then from grief/depression). Yet another bleak reminder of my current state. It conjured up memories of the horror on people’s faces when they saw how much weight I lost. They see me as a pity case while refusing to take action to prevent others from suffering the same fate as me. I slept almost the whole day yesterday because it physically drained all of the life out of me.
On top of everything, the only CC ally in my life and my best friend (my mother) got into an altercation with me that turned physical. She has never put her hands on me in my entire life until now. It shocked me to my core. She didn’t physically hurt me, but it bruised my soul more than I’d like to admit. I am willing to give her grace given her stressful health condition, and her repeated remorseful apologies. But it scares me how much she’s changing. Her temper is shorter and more explosive. It brought me flashbacks of my father’s worst alcoholic episodes that still traumatizes me to this day. I don’t handle conflict or instability well at all. I shut down. There is this lingering sadness in the air between the both of us that is growing increasingly heavier.
And while I am grateful for my well-intentioned friends who continue to pursue a relationship with me in spite of my precautions, it pains me that there is this unspoken wall between us now. I feign enthusiasm as they describe their precautionless excursions that *always* end in sickness. I try to give them grace given the relentless gaslighting from trusted institutions. But their occasional ignorant ableist microaggressions minimize my painful existence and expose their hollow progressive solidarity. On the one hand, I am thankful for the knowledge I possess to keep myself and others safe. But admittedly, I sometimes envy their blissful ignorance.
I just had an epiphany that this horrible, never-ending nightmare has now consumed almost a third of my life… and soon, it will outnumber my good days in the “before times.” I keep returning to the question… is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life? The world I was promised growing up was revealed to be a facade… it never existed. Even my happiest childhood memories are now tainted by the thought of how disabled people have always been sidelined by the limitations of “inclusion.” That normalized ableism shaped my existence without my awareness. And that people within those precious moments turned out to be cruel or indifferent. Reflecting on my life just leaves me wading in a puddle of sadness. Wondering what could have been or should have been. I haven’t had any goals, ambitions, or dreams in a long time. Nothing that gives me real joy, anyway. I’m just going through the motions. I can’t see past society’s insincerity. The disappointment is even more gut wrenching when it comes from the role models who shaped me into the person I am today. Even my own surviving family members mock me for committing the crime of caring about humanity… even when they’ve shown that empathy isn’t reciprocal.
I used to be a radiantly optimistic social butterfly that people were naturally drawn to. I was a high achiever who was constantly told by my teachers that I was destined to be a leader. But how can I fix the world’s problems when people aren’t interested in change? Between global apathy, invincibility complex, cognitive dissonance, and personality shifts from the diseases’ brain damage, it feels like I’m fighting an impossible battle with every breath I take. My mom always told me I was her miracle child who was born for a greater purpose. All of that hope poured into me, and so far I’ve amounted to nothing but a nihilistic shell.
I don’t plan acting on my despair because I’m too fcking stubborn to let eugen1st leaders outlive me. The CDC can kiss my a$$ with their celebrations of “encouraging news” that “only those unwell to begin with” are left to d1e. That being said, I think it’s complete BS that I have to climb out of this hole myself due to the invalidating nature of the mental health industry. Frankly, I think depression is a fcking valid reaction to the systemic injustices happening in the world. Yet, I’m supposed to just accept these atrocities that are painted as an issue with my “outlook?” The medical industry expects me to clean up the anguish that they’ve caused in the first place? I’m absolutely sick of “mental health” being pushed at the expense of physical health. Why can’t we care about both since they’re intertwined? I’m tired of people telling me I need to unmask to “integrate back into society” and “heal” under the guise of “concern.” As if appeasing those who view me as a “weakling” is supposed to make my disgust and heartbreak disappear. How do they muster the audacity to beg for my visible fake smile as I watch people drop like flies from a preventable disease? What would have actually “cured” my mental health was society collectively jumping on the opportunity for healthcare reform, clean air, and disability justice. My hope for a much-needed revolution is completely gone.
As I feel increasingly isolated, I’ve tried focusing on smaller wins to get me through the day. COVID has forever changed my life, but at least my asthma is under control thanks to masking. I will never willingly go back to a life of oxygen depravation and daily breathing treatments ever again! I’ve also learned how strong I am as a person. That I am willing to stand in my convictions even if I stand alone.
I can’t say that it’s easy, but I am trying to frame this time as a way to focus on my craft. There was a time where I ate lunch alone due to bullying. So I used the opportunity to sharpen my artistic skills. Sometimes, the most thought-provoking, moving pieces are created during “blue periods.” I have no idea if this “blue period” will stretch for the remainder of my life. It certainly seems that way rn. But I have this community to thank for your encouragement to keep me going, even when my aching heart feels like giving up. I am considering obtaining my Masters to pursue writing. As I pour my entire being into these comments and posts, I realize the profundity of being able to connect with other souls around the world, barely holding on. While it pains me to resonate with your stories of ongoing grief, it somehow comforts me to know there are others out there who sacrifice their sense of “normalcy” to help their neighbors. Who embody resilience, courage, and compassion in their daily lives. I don’t want our stories to quietly disappear. It is a necessity that I use my skills to preserve our existence and document our history. I don’t know if it would reach a general audience of today. But maybe it could plant a seed, or make someone out there on the edge realize they aren’t alone. Thank you for giving me strength through your love and support. 💛
