Archives for posts with tag: fear

A warning to any readers of this post: this will contain coarse and vulgar language. The last week has been the most unstable times of my life emotionally and I even lost a few days. I will tell you all about it, I am just warning you, you might not like me after reading this.

I am in bed with the most uneasy feeling I can recall in my life’s history. What has caused this unsettling? Bad life decisions disguised as healthy rebellion.

If you know me, or have followed this blog at all, you know that I have heart failure. Being so young, it has been a strange and even scary experience. Though with the support of family, friends, and modern medicine, I am still alive and doing quite well. I post my updates of doctor visits filled with praise for the boy who fought for his life. Things were going up and up. Then, last week it hit me.

I had an echocardiogram nearly 6 months after my first one. My main cardiologist was amazingly hopeful for my progress simply due to appearance. With the weight loss and demeanour of someone that just won the lottery, he was hoping for the best. My last appointment with him he seemed confident I was making a full recovery. The technician spoke to Dr. Miller speculatively about the results. He said ejection fraction at 25%. Normally I wouldn’t put much stock in what anyone other than my doctor said, but Dr. Miller specifically said that this guy knows his stuff.

Being at 25% I am still in failure. Since it has been six months and I have been on maximum doses of medications, the next step is surgery. Heart surgery. Are you kidding? What happened to the progress? Dr. Miller wants to put in a defibrillator to prevent a life threatening arrhythmia that my weakened heart can’t pull itself out of. That’s what kills heart patients. Not slowing to a 0% ejection fraction, but an erratic heartbeat that your heart isn’t strong enough to correct.

My first thought upon hearing this news was “fuck this”. I am not getting heart surgery. Let it kill me. I have spent the last six months being ever so careful and scared of doing anything that would jeopardise my health. Now? Who cares. I have been given a death sentence of an unsure timeframe. My reasons for not wanting surgery are many. First and foremost, I am already $3,000 in just medical debt from this experience. Not to mention the near $8,000 in unsecured credit card debt due to living off of it both while unemployed and employed. Why would I want to add another $10,000 in bills to cover a surgery that I will spend the rest of my disabled shitty life paying off? It doesn’t add up. Secondly, defibrillators aren’t 100%. They could detect failure improperly and take control of your heart when you don’t need it to. I don’t need to keep worrying. I live my life in fear and I hate it. Cut to that night, I had procured some Cabernet Sauvignon and proceeded to drink myself stupid. The next morning I skipped the anti depressants and just popped lorazepam all day. Needless to say, I turned into a sobbing mess and a moron. I called a girl I like and left a 7 minute voicemail consisting of crying, singing, and silence. Then my sister in law comes over and I try to get her to beat me up. I called another girl professing an untrue undying love just so she would know in case anything happened. The next two nights I continued this binge of self-destruction, convincing myself that it was an act of rebellion that was justified. What has living my life alcohol and drug free done? Nothing. So in my petty and fucked up mind I kept on going down. Saturday night I was told half of what I did and Sunday night my sister in law told me the other half. I divulged information that no one needed to know. No reason except for my judgement had been impaired.

So tonight I lay in bed with calm music playing and a tear soaked face wondering what it accomplished. If anything it strengthened a knowledge and resolve to stay off those substances. I don’t have self-control. I have issues and a wonderful genetic history of addicts. Isn’t it funny how we all feel immune to the dangers and warnings of the world? On Tuesday I have a second appointment with Dr. Miller to go over the full results now that he’s had a chance to look at the test. Wednesday I start school and I feel excited and scared. So impatient and unprepared. And now I have told everyone that wants to know, my very stupid actions over the last week.


I have discarded the remaining lorazepam and will find other means of attacking my panic. Meditation, exercise, kitten petting, etc.

To my mother, I sincerely apologise for my defiant words towards you today. I know you know they were said in jest, but I would be lost without your love and support.

To my dad, thank you for helping me with everything you have been able to. Our relationship wasn’t the greatest when I was a kid, but I am happy to call you dad now instead of Russ.

To my siblings, I apologise for all actions and words that have offended you. I am truly grateful for you and terrified of life without you. I will try and be a better brother.

To my extended family, your thoughts and well wishes have meant so much to me. In any form you have chosen to pray or think of me, I can tell you with certainty, it helped.

To my friends, I don’t think I did anything to any of you except to show the monster that lives in me. If you choose to seek asylum from his terrors, I understand. If you choose to stay with me, I will do my best to keep him calm and under control.

To myself, remember to think of these promises and where you would be without them. Don’t forget who you are and what you stand for.

To my heart, I am sorry you are broken. I wish I would have taken better care of you. Even now as you feel like a stone buried deep in my chest, I love you. I hope we can work this out.

To a strangers and passers-by, I hope you find comfort and love in your life. I hope you are happy. And if by some chance you’re not, we can always talk. I’m happy to listen.

Thanks for stopping by.