Living with disease or illness is never easy and sometimes it’s just down right mean. The loss of life, of love, of job, of future, and finally of hope leaves one in the depths of depression. I wrote this letter a couple of years ago when I was in a dark place and out of hope. This is my lament after living with a debilitating autoimmune disease for 23 years. A disease that halted my life. The depression is somewhat better since I wrote this. However I decided to go ahead and share it. It is my hope to help others struggling with a “failed life” to know that they are not alone.
To whom it may concern,
This life has been a very difficult journey. A life I never wanted. A life I worked hard to over come and still here I am. No life, no wife, no kids, no career, no money, nothing that would make a life meaningful or tolerable. Just pain and exhaustion.
I finally decided to tackle some of the boxes of papers I had kept all these years. The more I went through, the more I remembered and realized all I had faced and suffered in this life. So many false starts, over and over. Nothing ever succeeded. I can’t understand how one man could try so hard to have a life and have it all end up like this!
I sorted through stacks of papers from social services, food stamps, county General Relief and more. Stacks of school brochures of schools I had hoped to attend. I would have been a Dr. of Naturopathy or gone into Herbal medicine. All hope gone now. I shredded or tossed all that past history with shame. Why couldn’t I make it work? Why did things end up this way? Was there a way out and I missed it? How is it possible to try so hard and fail so miserably?
I look perfectly normal so no one understands the degree of my limitations. I have had to fight for any help I got! I often am not up to the fight, so often I don’t get the help. To my family I am a failure. They see me as a person who begins things and never follows through. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Everything I go through, I go through alone. I can’t invite anyone into my life. Who would want me, and what kind of partner would I be? I can’t tolerate someone here all the time. I can barely stand to have friends call or drop by!
All too often people call because they’re board. But they steal from me what few minutes of energy I have, I’m left depleted, exhausted and must rest. They hang up feeling so much better and go on with their day, but for me it’s another lost day of my life. I try to “go with the flow” and live at God’s disposal. But this burdensome life is sucking everything out of me.
Was there a purpose to this life? What a failure! That statement goes through my head over and over. I am a man of action and I don’t believe in the “no win” scenario, but I seem to be living it. What a horrible life! Did I deserve this?
I don’t often write letters like this cause no one wants to hear it, but I guess it’s bad today, bad enough for me to write.