I called suicide prevention, I called local crisis service, I called the hospital, and nothing came of it.
A little back story: got compartment syndrome, but doc thought I did it myself. Was sent home. Normally 1 or 2 operations, 2 to 4 weeks recovery. I had it way too late, part of the muscle died. 5 surgeries, open wound, failed skin graft, wound 6 inches long, 2 inches wide. Also had it in hand, but that healed okay.
I got CRPS off it, and my pain level is around a 9 to 10 at any time. I wear 3 to 4 100ug patches. I asked help, was said it's not urgent, you're a biter, not a barker. Went home, took 30 mg confirmed fentanyl, nothing happened. Found out I have rapid liver excretion, and the receptors don't want to bind.
Still no help.
Before, at 14, I had shingles behind my ear, gave me meningitis, BPM 25, below. Then till 19, I had kidney stones multiple times, pancreatitis, and at 19, a cardiac arrest without cause.
And for a few years, I've had an unknown severe sleeping disorder, awake 4 to 6 days, tried every med, benzo, etc., did nothing. Now I take a high dose antipsychotic, and I sleep 1 hour, 2 to 3 times a week.
I can save enough to go to a festival every 6 months, and the doc and my mom don't care if I use ketamine nasal spray. It takes away a lot of the pain in a low dose, so no tripping or anything.
But I can't live on 2 days a year. I can't live with the idea there is something that can help, but because fentanyl is on script, that's okay.
I'm 23 and have a DNR, looking for euthanasia.
In my country, you can call crisis, and they give you a place, and for GHB addicts, they even give you the dose.
But if you can't handle the pain.
All I asked was if I could use it 1 extra day, and I was screamed at.
I have no friends and no family. My mom is hard to live with, and I mean like terrible.
I'm 23, I get kicked out if she can't control meds, and when we fight, she just not gives them.
She spread lies and just screamed, nothing what I do is good.
I left home to end it, came back crying, and said I can't do this anymore and I was planning to end it, but used ketamine.
No "glad you're here" or hug, just screaming for hours.
I have no door in my room, but never did anything. I keep hearing I get one, it never happens.
I tried everything. I asked 1 thing: tell me why keep living if it's just endless suffering. No answer, just screaming that I only do it for drugs.
I called every service I could. I screamed I can't live like this. My mom didn't come, she stayed in her room. After hours, I went to my bedroom, and I'm worth just enough to not even get checked on if I'm alive since 20 hours.
I can't and won't keep suffering for nothing, I have no reason to do.
It's better to be dead than nasal spray one time a month.
That's okay for me. I have my will written. As soon as I'm dead, my body is taken away, and my family won't be able to see me, can't attend my service, or get my ashes. As soon as my heart stops, I'm gone.
Because when I was alive, they didn't care, they won't get to when I'm dead. It gets spread on a festival they don't get the name of, in a year they don't know, on a place of the festival that's also not known.
And I made sure they know that.
If I'm not worth to help when alive, that's okay, but then I won't give them a closure they want.
Maybe they feel a bit of the pain I've had, but they probably will just say it proves I'm a bad person.
I can't live 24/7 suffering for nothing, without money to do anything, no future, no family that gives support.
No hospital that will give me urgent mental care, but place me on a multi-year waiting list.
When I was young, my mom was having many meltdowns, screaming if I stay, I make it worse, and if I leave, it would be my fault she is dead, to a point I was afraid every day going home from school, ending with a breakdown when she placed a knife on her throat, sat down for hours, saying she will cut if I call anyone.
Me contacting my grandma that she is screaming about nothing gets to hear leave it be, she is stressed.
The same grandma that's an alcoholic for years, talking on a birthday about alcohol is the only thing she needs in life, and saying I'm problematic because I tried to relieve pain once a month.
But me screaming I can't take it, after trying to get help from any service I could find, saying I'm going to kill myself in mental abuse of my mom.
I can't think of a single thing why to keep up with the pain another day, if it's for nothing, if it isn't worth anything for anyone, what's there to live for.
I know this will probably get deleted, but I hope for the people that get to read this to enjoy life more, try to not take everything granted, take a breath, and think of the things you can do, like use your arms, or look up to the sky, and be glad you can see it, and if that's not enough, then be happy you could take that breath.
I'm sorry for the dump, but if I scream it out loud, nobody cares or listens, so could just as well write it to a bunch of people that don't know me, and care just as much.
Hearing everything you are carrying, from relentless physical pain to an environment that leaves you feeling completely unseen and unsupported, sounds overwhelmingly heavy. Please know that even in the darkest moments, you do not have to carry this alone.