Unaccustomed to such violence

Criticism, such a joy-killer. Well, I needed pain-killers. I'm not talking about medicine, I'm talking about people. I'm talking about the lack of empathy I experienced. Maybe I have too immature friends to care about serious things. Oh no, don't get me wrong, I had some very pleasant surprises as well, from the people I least expected it. That was nice. Maybe the lack of empathy comes from young age or living a too good life to care. Either way, that's no excuse.
It wasn't my fault that I was the most ill I have ever been. And how the hell was I supposed to know when I'd get better. When you are in hospital, everything changes. You have no sense of time, you are weak. You do as you're told, you eat they liquid food the provide you. This means you lose weight, because you feel even sicker from the hospital food after a day or two. You look in the mirror, you try not to gasp, because you see a dead person looking back at you.
It's hell and you wish someone would understand. Someone you have spent a lot of time laughing with. Eventually the person does call, but all you can hear is laughter and not a touch of empathy. Everything is a joke for these people, life is a joke. You come to the conclusion that you are a joke as well. Your fever rises, the nurse comes with a syringe and shaking hands. You know her type, you think to yourself. It's not you who is afraid of the injection, it's her. But in the end it doesn't even matter, because you are the one who feels the physical pain. This is what they call bittersweet, you think to yourself again.

I'm medicated, how are you? Tomorrow is my Russian exam. Quite frankly, I should be satisfied with any positive mark I get. Antibiotics and brain work don't go together.


I need to talk to someone who is real.

Day 19

People do not understand.

Day 18

It hurts to sleep.

Day 17

I've lost 7 kilos.

Day 16

Got new antibiotics.

Day 15

I killed the TV.