Even being on a platform like this is very… triggering? 🤣 nostalgic? I guess.
I accessed my old archives and I can’t believe I can still read what I wrote over 20 years ago. Who knew that starting one of the first online journals over two decades ago would shape into who I am today?
I think my favourite thing since those days was becoming a nobody. I spent most of my life trying to prove I am a somebody, only to realise it’s all a game, and I have been a somebody this entire time. Unfortunately, it took me late stage illness to realise.
I’ve always been ill, but somewhat manageable. It’s not actually that hard to get this sick if you consider the factors that brought me here. Since I was a child, I always wished I was dead. I remember being a very young child with a death wish hoping that someone would take me out of my misery quicker. It’s an incredibly weird feeling and realisation at a young age, and a very odd lens to view life when you are so small and your frontal lobes aren’t even developed.
I remember the first time a doctor realised something was wrong with me. I was the child who was either very quiet, very angry, and very shutdown. They would spend countless of resources trying to get me to care about my health.
I was diagnosed as a first gen Type 1 Diabetic. At the time, it was strange and difficult to figure out, how. I knew I was Diabetic years prior to collapsing in school. I was ignored and ridiculed for years leading up to that point, in extreme dehydration, but I was gaslighted in being just a “thirsty child” and a “primadonna” despite having to pee just as much and all the symptoms that are very clear to someone that is Diabetic. I guess that’s life when no one gives a shit about you loooooool
I got a diagnosed at the start of high school because I collapsed in school a few times. I remember being in the ambulance being rushed off to Mullingar hospital. I remember asking if I had to inject myself and prick my fingers every day because I have needlephobia from being pinned down. I remember frequently being checked in on with so much pity because I was the only child whose parents never showed up in the children’s ward. I’m not going to lie though, I treated it like a vacation from school. I binge watched CSI, Law & Order and LOST box sets. Definitely not appropriate for a child to be watching them alone at that age, but once again, no parents = no rules. I used to sneak off to that Centra outside Mullingar Hospital and get a chicken tikka wrap for lunch every day because the hospital food was disgusting, and why is the sugar-free option in 2026, STILL jelly?? literally nobody wants sugar-free jelly.
I guess that is how I always navigated my illness. How is a child meant to care about their life when nobody else does? A life that is doomed to be torture for a needle-phobic, and nobody to help. My brain decided to dissociate my personal life from an early professional life. Like those old executives that are Senior, but realised they got there via the avoidance route. Our brain does a very clever thing to protect itself.
I remember for years, being the most horrible patient. I learnt how to code into my devices and machines. I learned how to manipulate blood results so I wouldn’t be admitted into hospital, only to end up admitted every few months due to dehydration and sickness so that was all pretty unproductive and stupid.
I remember years of doctors, nurses, and different teams, trying to convince me to take my health seriously otherwise all the scary stuff would happen to me. I was always told I “could lose my vision”, “become amputated” and “lose limbs like a lot of diabetics”. I was told from a young age that I would “go blind and have no legs”, yet somehow that did not move or phase me in the slightest. That moment is usually the “wake up call” for young individuals to take their health seriously. The only reason why I cared a small bit, was the day I met Dr. Murphy. I’ll share that story someday. I often think about him and how he is doing. If he ever forgot about me. Is he even alive? To be fair, most doctors I know on a personal level are far past retirement age hahaha.
I struggled for the rest of my life after that. I guess that is the whole point of this space. Sort of how it was over 20 years ago when I wanted to brain unload and somehow people wanted to read and watch my waffle. Half a billion people is a lot, especially back in those days. Now the thought of that makes me want to crawl into a hole and pretend that I can’t speak English or that I finally lost my vision (spoiler alert, I did.),
It’s almost poetic that I have been through so many traumatic events and when I finally realise and learn self-worth and value, i’m very close to kicking the bucket. Talk about getting an unlucky hand, but we move.
I don’t think (TBD) I would wish grieving and healing and surviving and trying to stay hopeful while being hopeless, all at the same time, on anyone.
I wonder if I get to read back on this in a year and be like “what a time and last fight”, or will I just be dead and somebody who used to know me is reading this like “stfu Chloe”. Guess we’re about to find out soon.
Although if these double organs work, am I technically no longer “chronic”? 🤔
Chau for now,
Chloè
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