“I mean, I don’t know how the world broke. And I don’t know if there’s a God who can help us fix it. But the fact that the world is broken – I absolutely believe that. Just look around us.”

I’ve been in hospital several months ago. I was sort of dying. I’ve woken up in the hospital bed, with plenty of monitors attached to me, several tubes sticking out from my body and with sad faces of my parents looking down on me. After a week I have signed papers that stated that I want to be discharged on my own demand. From that moment onward I’ve put a lot of time and effort to convince everyone around that I am better, that everything is all right and that no-one needs to worry about me. Don’t get me wrong – I didn’t go straight to the denial that anything happened, however – I have only touched the surface of it and in general – dismissed it[1].

I think it took me at least several months to get to the point, when one night it occurred to me: I NEARLY DIED[2] (and yes – -it appeared in my head written in capitals, extremely loud and unavoidably close). This is when I’ve realised that during all of that time between hospital and now, I have been spinning out, randomly losing it and following the messy path towards the ultimate entropy[3].

I don’t know if it actually could have been handled differently – maybe all of that tripping and falling and lifting yourself up and then learning how to walk again – maybe that had to be done – one way or another. Maybe, even if I would actually sat down at some point to simply cry and tell, even if only myself, how much all of this dying hurt me and how scared I was, maybe it still wouldn’t change a thing in the months that were to come… Maybe it would.


[1] in a way it was something that belonged only to me on that deepest and darkest level…

[2] I think it’s not even the notion of death that capitalised all of that (in the end, it wasn’t the first time) but rather the way I was dying on that occasion…

[3] I guess it’s still difficult to put all of that into words.


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