A letter from November 27th, 2022

Dear FutureMe, Pain sucks. In fact it really sucks. It changes you. Just when you believe you can *live with it* you can't. Case in point; you become much more aware of the pettiness of life. Each injustice is seemingly a pointed attack against you. You relate to the negatively among you in order to cope. But you aren't that loving, free, natural person you once knew and the ones others loved. There's no chance at recovery. It's incurable. You're stuck. Left to be a burden to those around you. Who don't understand or give any benefits of the doubt. Since it's a me first generation. I don't think the best person would be able to not feel slighted when the pain is peaking. How can anyone not feel offended when I'm in pain but trying to life my life and not be bothersome? It's impossible. I'm a figure of my past. A relic. Each day I'm a dying piece of what I was and Who i was suppose to be. I've changed for the worst because of my body's failures. Nothing will stop the change. I pray, for ***** in order to escape this monsoon of difficulties. This upper echelon of pain, doubt and remorse i have. No second chance will ever be available to avoid this constant and repeated bombardment of *told you so*, *karma* and *God doesn't give you what you can't handle.* I've lost. Without repair. Yet, here I am living (still). The biggest joke of it all is my life.