They won’t let me die

Someone said “at least you’re still here, you’ve not given up”.

My response (I keep in my head of course) it’s not due to lack of trying.

They wont let me die, but they surely won’t support me to live.

Nothing I do makes a difference, improves things, or gives me a chance to live. My quality of life keeps getting shot by reality.

I have spiralled into predictable worse outcomes, precarious living situations, vulnerabilities that lead to re-traumatizations and re-injuries. Nowhere offers me peace or safety but villainizes the categories of who I am according to an unjust world. I know I’m the common denominator, but it’s also the fact of how I was born and of what I am made up…hundreds of years ago, I would have been left at the edge of the village. Would I have burnt it down to feel its warmth? Is this me watching from the edge contemplating that? I dont know, I have no feelings or anything. I’m just exhausted and in pain.

But they wont let me die. They wont let it end…now I live through what’s worse than the unknown of death, it’s the knowledge of unending misery.