I've probably already lived long enough.

I've probably already written my lifestory.

I have so many sicknesses and defects in my body, that it's just a matter of time before I break down more. And more. And then some.

I'm supposed to be young at my 37 (?) years, but so far my age hasn't saved me or kept me from sickness so why would it now? 

Well, I have a "new" defect. My back is finally breaking down. After all these years, it seems I have yet another 'place' that can't continue on anymore. But it's no news for me, I've just been waiting for what will break down next for years now. Almost for ten years I've been telling anybody that will lissen that I'm a timebomb ticking away. Second by second, neverknowing which second will be my last.

I've had a 'bad' back as long as I can remember. When I was a teenager the schoolnurse told me that my back is bending way too much forward, towards the stomack. A "lordosis" I think it's called. And that's all still fine when youre a teenager, but then life happened. I was doing physical activities alot, I've always liked moving around using my body. But at the tender age of nineteen, life interferred.

Life has never been the same after that. Don't even know anymore if my life has ever been good after that. Ever.

That's a pretty long time, I'm not good at math, but it's practically my whole entire adult life. (except a few years in between) So it's like my whole adult life has been difficoult, bad, worthless, etc. I think this is why I'm having an age crisis. It's like I'm still nineteen trying to start out my own life, away from parents. Yet, my birthdate tells me I'm no longer that young, years have piled on. And I'm everything BUT a teenager. I'm a mom, of an almost-a-teenager. 

What happened to me when I was nineteen has obviously changed my view of life so much, that I'm more like eighty years old. And I have so many things in common with them. Medication, pains, sicknesses- I'm an expert by now.

My life view has changed, I think in both good and bad. Because I've seen, and escorted dying/dead people- I appriciate how precious life is, and how we're supposed to seize every moment that we have like it's our last. We NEVER know who's turn is next.

At the same time I've seen that healthy life choices doesn't necesseraly save you or keep you from getting nasty sicknesses. I've become bitter and cynical, many say, I disagree.

I've witnessed the horror in a person when he relizes that this is his last hour in life, a person that doesn't wan't to die or isn't ready. I've witnessed children, small and big, get cancer, which to me is totally infammable. Totally incomprehensive. 

I've also seen and witnessed people that are everything from ready to die- to not yet understood that their time is up. 

So I would say I appreciate life, eventhough I don't want to live mine. That I see only one reasonable outcome of my situation in life, only one solution that would solve everything at once, doesn't mean that I admire death or want anybody else killed or harmed. Quite the opposite actually. I wish and want all the best to everybody else. Probably because I've had a taste of good life or because I know and appreciate that life can be wonderful. Somewhere deep inside of me I still want to live, but not this my life. 

Don't even know how long it's been since I've "talked" to you last, dear diary. I know, sounds quite desperate, I mean who talkes to their diary. Right? Well I do. I guess I do when I'm lonely and need to get stuff of my chest. Usually, that's also when I don't feel so great. I'm depressed, I guess it's time to name it. Instead of just going around and saying that I don't feel so well. I guess it's an understatement. Even depression is an understatement. But I don't know any other word for it. Don't know if there is a word for it. 

I guess some would say that I'm at the end. Where there's no way back. That I'm at the bottom. From where there's no way up. But with my life-experience I can't say that either. The bottom is quite a safe place, it's a place where one cannot fall any deeper.

I'm not safe. I'm never safe. That's what my life has thought me. It can always get worse. I know it's harsh, and not anything you want to hear, but sorry, it's my truth. Many say that it's the depression talking. That would be too easy. To blame it all on a sickness. 

Sure, some of my depression, if we want to call it that (I have a difficoult time with that word! :) ) is coloring my thoughts even worse than they would be otherwise. But there's a seed. 

My seed, was my sickness. It's soon ten years ago. 

I mean, everybody that has a serious, life threatning decease, is more or less depressed. It's the "normal" reaction to when things don't go right in one's life. I mean, if a person doesn't react at all when a serious sickness hits one in the face one beatiful day, then there's something abnormal. A person is not supposed to fall sick at a young age. But it happens. A young person is supposed to have their whole life ahead of them, full of opportunities and suprises. Some not so great, sure, but many great things.

But when youre 27 years old, a small babys mom, youre not supposed to be facing the fact that youre about to die, and start planning a funeral.

But life happens! 

And when life has happened that's when youre supposed to pick up the pieces and continue or start again. I've been trying to do that for almost ten years, with no avail.

And I'm so exhausted at fighting my way back to life. Even exhaustion doesn't describe it, it's more than that. It feels like I'm a soldier who has been at the warfront for way too many years. For so long that I don't even notice the bullets anymore. Don't notice whether the war is still going on or not. And I'm the only soldier. The enemy is hidden, you can't see them, but you know they are there, because you keep getting wounded. Maybe it's not much, a little cut here, a little scar there, but when you've been there for ten years, it's hard to even keep standing. But it's like I don't even have a choice, I've just been thrown there, to the middle of nowhere, all by myself. And it feels like I'm climbing a mountain like the Everest everyday, but I'm still not getting anywhere. Maybe I'm not in war after all, maybe I've died and gone to hell.

I actually saw a film where they suggested that there is no hell, but that the hell is when you live even though youre life is ruined. That's how it feels.

And as I said, I know this is not what you'de like to hear, but if I diden't tell you the truth, then who would? 

Today has felt like a whole lifetime. Just one day, that feels it's been going on forever. A grey and grissly day, a day when you can't really know whether or not the sun has even gone up.

Yours Adanne

I'm still here. Suffering. Not much more to say. My miserable life is an everyday constant uphill battle. It seems and feels like I've lived forever already. 

I wish I was better at this thing called life. I wish I knew what to do next, where to turn to. I feel stuck. In misery. I guess misery loves company.

Every once in a while, it seems like I'm trying. Trying something new, trying to live. Allthought, nothing feels like anything anymore. And even though how hard I try or how many times, nothing seems to change.

So it's like I've become something I always dredded. 

Now, he doesn't know anything about that, his never seen even a glimt of everything I wanted and planned for him. 

And everything I wanted to give him.

I'm only a shadow of whom I used to be. And I am unable to provide a life for him. I'm asheamed of the way his life is and have been.

This is my reality, my everything. And I have to live with it every day, all the time, with every breath I take...

Just to make it clear. The thing that ruined my life was a big, sudden serious sickness. That has ruined everything. After, I haven't really had a life anymore. I'ts painful that nobody on this planet can understand this. What I've been through. I'm slowly starting to understand that maybe that's the way it's always gonna be. That that is the way it's supposed to be. That that's also something I just have to live with. Sometimes I actually try to accept everything in my life. There's days that I almost succeed in this. And then there's days when  I'm not able to do that. Days that I only fight for everything in my life that I have, and don't have.

Sometimes it seems you gain less than you lose.

Like being married, happily might I add, and I still managed to be a singleparent. I mean, I should have been given a f*cking medal for being a singleparent in a marriage.

Maybe I was a victim of belife. Befief in that my husband means what he says and that everything's gonna be okay. Or maybe I was just plain stupid. Stupid in believing what a humanbeing is saying and believing in himself. Or maybe I should have just known better. Better than to trust.

There's no way to go back now. It's not like I can go and undo that I finally got pregnant, after years of trying. Not that I would want to. Being pregnant and having my precious son in my arms, and my life, is the best thing that ever happened to me. The only good thing that has ever happened to me. 

So because of this I'm not a good mother either. Just another thing I screw up. That used to be one of the most important things in life for me. To be a good mother. If I ever got pregnant that is. I never wanted to be a sick mother, an unable mother, poor and unable to provide a good life for my son. Most important of all, I never wanted, planned or imagined I would ever became a singlemom. 

But here I am. Realizing I'm just a big f*cking screw up. On so many levels. Just wish I could change my life, swap with someone. Someone who would think that just being born where I was is already like winnig the lottery. Or even better, if I could donate my life to someone. Someone that still has life to live, still has will to live. Still has belife. Belife in that everything's gonna be okay.

In life there's no guarantines, no refunds.

In life there's just those people that still have belife. Still have hope. Still have something to give.

Belife in people, in life, in goodness and hope.

And then there's people like me. Screwed up, supposed to be dead.

"Life's for the living, so live it, or you're better of dead."

Better of dead...

My heart will just continue beating. Bum, bum, bum. Day and night, summer and winter, autumn and spring. Day out and day in. Nonstop, relentless... Even though every other part of me has given up, my heart will just go on. 

If a humanbeeing could die of a broken heart, I would have. My heart has been broken into a million peaces, and it's a puzzle I'm not sure has a solution. 

What if there is only one person for each one of us? And what if you lose that one? I wish I could tell you that it isn't true, but I'm not convinced. I'm so afraid that it may be true. 

My heart can still keep going another fifty years. Bum, bum, bum. That's a long time to be alone, to be without love, to be without being loved. To me that sounds just like a useless fifty years, that I could go without. 

No, en fyysisesti tietenkään enää siellä ole, mutta mieli on sinne juuttunut. Siitä on jo kuitenkin yli viisi vuotta kun oikeasti olin siellä, miksei mieli voi toipua? Eikä kukaan ymmärrä tai huomaa tätä asiaa. Ne näkevät mut tässä ja nyt, ja OLETTAVAT että koska en ole enää sairaalassa niin ei mun mielikään enää siellä ole. Voi olisinpa se niin helppoa!

Kuusi kuukautta, eli 200 päivää, teki sellaista tuhoa minulle, etten sitä itsekkään halua uskoa tai hyväksyä. En osaa sitä selittää. 

Tähän 200 päivään mahtuu tietysti huononpia päiviä, ja erittäin huonoja päiviä. Ja sitten oli vielä niitä päiviä jolloin melkein kuolin. 

Ihmismieli on siitä määrin ihmeellisesti rakennettu, että se onneksi unohtaa paljon, huonojakin asioita. Niin onneksi en paljoa muista tästä ajasta, mutta se mitä muistan on tuskallistakin tuskallisempaa. En varmaan osaa kuvailla tuskaa, mutta yritän kuitenkin.

Se oli 10. kesäkuuta 2009, kun jouduin sairaalaan. Vatsa oli kipeä, vauvani oli 7kk ikäinen. Veljeni otti vauvani hoitoon ja sanoi että minun pitäisi mennä lääkäriin. Kieltäydyin.

Lopulta veljeni tilasi ambulanssin. He veivät minut päivystykseen. Olin juuri tullut viikon lomalle Suomeen, asuin Lontoossa. Lontoossa minua oli jo vähän tutkittu, he löysivät korkeat rasva-arvot. Kolesteroli oli 11, ja triglyseridit ("eläinrasvat") "tähtitieteellisissä luvuissa" niinkuin yksi lääkäri totesi. Arvon 40 he olivat saaneet mitattua, ja sanoivat että niin korkeiden arvojen jälkeen heidän koneensa "hajoavat", tulee error, ei pysty enää sen ylitse mittaamaan. 

Koska olin ollut hoidettavan ulkomaalaisessa sairaalasssa minut eristettiin Turun TYKS:ssä. Itse muistan päivystyksen, muistan kivut. Muistan kun kivut yltyivät, ja minut siirrettiin TYKS:in ensiapuun ambulansilla. Jouduin eristykseen, eli jouduin pieneen koppiin joka muistutti selliä. Ja sinne minut jätettiin yksin, kovine kipuineni. Lopulta hoitaja tuli käymään, ja minä makasin lattialla kovissa tuskissa. Kun hän oli lähtemässä tarrauduin hänen jalkaan, koska en kestänyt enää. Kohtapuolin minut siirrettiin erinlaiseen akuuttiin huoneeseen missä oli koko ajan paljon hoitajia ja lääkäreitä. 

Siinä se lauma hoitajia ja lääkäreitä pörräsi ympärilläni kuin ampiaiset hunajassa. Puhuivat keskenään epäilevänsä "aorttan auneurysma" eli aorttan (suuren sydänvaltimon) pullistumaa. Ultraäänellä yrittivät nopeasti saada vastauksen. Siinä näkyi "kunnon pankreatiitti" (eli vaikea haimatulehdus). 

Tästä aikaa kului vuorokausi kun minut siirrettiin teho-osastolle. Muistan sen vielä hyvin. Minulle kerrottiin vaan että kipujeni vuoksi minut nukutettaisiin pariksi päiväksi, jottei minun tarvitsisi kärsiä, ja samalla elimistöni saisi kunnolla levätä. Hyväksyin tämän mielelläni. Ettei tarvitsisi kärsiä kivuista upposi minuun kuin kivi pohjaan. Mitään huolta en ymmärrtänyt tuntea, en ymmärrtänyt/halunnut ymmärrtää kuinka paha tilanne oli. Olin vain niin tyytyväinen että saisin levätä ilman kipuja. Jälkeenpäin olen tietenkin ymmärrtänyt että minua varmaan yritettiin suojella totuudelta jotta en menettäisi toivoani. Etten luovuttaisi kuolemalle.

Eräs asia on, mitä en muista, mutta mikä minulle on jälkeenpäin kerrottu. Se oli ensimmäinen kerta tämän 200 päivän aikana kun meinasi henki lähteä. Mieheni kertoi minulle jälkeenpäin mitä tapahtui sen jälkeen kun minut oli nukutettu. Eli minut oli vaivutettu koomaan, niinkuin tavalliset ihmiset sanoisivat. En tietenkään voi enkä muista mitään sen jälkeen kun mut nukutettiin. Torstaina minut nukutettiin, perjantaina lääkäri oli soittanut lähiomaiselleni, miehelleni Lontooseen että jos haluat vielä nähdä vaimosi niin nyt tarttis tulla. Mies tuli heti seuraavalla lennolla Suomeen.

Mieheni saavuttua hän oli kysynyt suoraan lääkäriltä että mitkä olivat mahdollisuukseni selvitä hengissä. Lääkäri oli sanonut että 50% mahdollisuus että selviän, että tilanne on vakava. Minut oli kytketty hengityskoneeseen tietenkin, kun minut oli nukutettu. Sen lisäksi minulla oli nenä-mahaletku, sentraalinen kanyyli (suoniyhteys suoraan kaulalle suureen suoneen), jonkinlainen verensuodatuskone (mieheni ei tiennyt tarkemmin, epäilen että olin dialyysikoneessa). Koska haimani oli lopettanut kokonaan toimimasta, niin pahan tulehduksen seurauksena, ja haima on jotenkin yhteydessä munuaisiin niin nekin olivat lopettaneet toimimasta. Vertani oli kuulemma suodatettu koska siinä oli niin paljon rasvaa... Tästä en tiedä..

Seuraavana päivänä mieheni oli toistanut kysymyksen mitkä ovat nyt mahdollisuukseni selvitä, vastaus oli että nyt pitäisi yrittää valmistautua siihen etten selviä, että kuolema minut vie. Prosentit olivat 70-30%. 30% mahdollisuus oli siis enää selvitä, ja olisi viisasta valmistautua siihen että kuolisin. Tilanteeni oli siis vielä huonontunut. Mieheni oli lohduton. Mies joka ei ikinä itkenyt- ei pystynyt enää itkemistään lopettamaan.

Everybody was against it. They said I'm making a big mistake, that why do I have to hurry. My mom, my dad, my brother. I'm sure my friends thought so too, they were just polite enough not to say it. Also there was no money to arrange a marriage. We were both unemployed. Nobody offered to help us, financially, or any other way. I made everything we served myself. Even though I was the bride. The "reception" was held at the appartement we lived in at that time.

10.9.2004 was the happiest day of my life. It was a beatiful, sunny and warm day in september, even thougt autumn was here.The only things that I regret, are for one, that my family could not rejoyce with me. To see they're unhappy faces from the altar. Another one is that my father did not walk me down the aisle. And that is something I can not make ok again. He died just four short years after our wedding. He was 58 years old. He was the healtiest person I've ever met.

He never got to see his first granchild. We burried him in april 2008, and in october my son was born. He loved children, he himself had always wanted to have more than us two.

He was also the only person that was happy for me and my husband, on our wedding day. 

Eventhougt nobody believed that our marriage was for real, or that it was going to last, we were married for almost 8 years. 

London took him away from me. 

"He left me for another lady
She stood so tall and she never slept
The was not one moment he could regret
He left me for another lady

He took my hand one day and told me
He was leaving
Me disbelieving
And I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I
Had to let him go

Her name was London, London
And she took his heart away oh my
Her name was London, London
She had poisoned his sweet mind

The wolves they howled for my lost soul
I fell down a deep black hole
He left me for another lady

Now I am on my own
He told me he was leaving
And I was pleading
And I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I
Had to let him go"

(New York, New York by Paloma Faith)

Välillä on vaan niin vaikeaa olla töissä samassa sairaalassa missä olen kokenut kamalimmat hetkeni, ja mistä traumani ovat kotoisin. 5-vuotta on jo menny siitä kauniista kesäkuun päivästä kun mun maha tuli kipeeksi, yllättäen. Siellä menikin sitten seuraavat 6kk... 

Olin silloin 28v. perusterve nainen.