I didn’t expect to feel so old so early. 41 isn’t that old, right? But when I reached the Big 4-0, learned that I have Ostheoarthritis, rheumatoid arthritis, diabetes, and hyperuricemia. With my pre-existing bipolar depression and anxiety disorders, I’m having problems coping with the new illnesses. I don’t want to go take another lab test for fear that the doctors will inform me that there are more.
For the past couple of months, I’ve been having difficulties walking. I wake up in the middle of the night because my knees throb in pain. When I do go out and know that I have a lot of walking to do, I have to wear leg braces and people stare at me, probably thinking that since I’m obese, I brought it on myself. The knee pains also meant that I had to say goodbye to Burlesque PH because how can I dance in this state? Lately I’ve been thinking of not traveling anymore because the thought of doing tours dishearten me. Maybe I’ll travel for the last time this year. Unless I find a miracle cure for the pain.
In my family home, I have trouble climbing the stairs but my bedroom is on the second floor. It’s becoming more often that I stay at our condo where there are no stairs and I am alone. But I don’t have cats there so I get lonely.
I know I’m still lucky. I don’t have a really scary illness (at least none that I know of) but curveball after curveball that life throws at me is very exhausting. I want to throw in the towel. It’s not just the illness. It’s being alone with no prospect of marriage nor even a date, the feeling that my friends are getting further from me, that despite going to a good school I amounted to nothing, etc etc. I can only blame myself.
I really wish we have the right to choose how and when we can die. At least with that I know it’s something I can control and I will have dignity in death instead of just wasting away like this.