I’m not coping. Most “Westerners” in developed countries who are intelligent, educated, and/or compassionate should be able to quickly understand that statement. Nevertheless, I would be astounded if more than four readers had even a passing understanding of what I mean why I say, “I’m not coping.” In fact, I would be impressed if more than one person had a substantial understanding.
It’s not my job to explain it to you. Furthermore, I’ve spent seven years explaining things, but no more than two people remember things I have explained.
In June 2019, I had a disturbing thought: I considered walking in front of a speeding car. I believed that it would not kill me, and I didn’t try it. I don’t think I had ever had that impulse or thought before. The experience worried me.
Two hours ago, I had a related experience. As I was about to cross the street, I saw a bus from the fleet of tourist buses here. They are new, top of the line, double decker, fast, and massive. I wasn’t sure it would stop at the red light, so I was careful to not get too close. When the danger ended, Eureka! I suddenly realized that if I were to walk in front of one of these buses while it was speeding, it would almost certainly kill me. This experience did not worry me.
I need stuff. Medicine, but buying a couple more medicines won’t change the situation. Shoes and clothes but that won’t help. A better place to sleep, but it won’t help. A bunch of other stuff and services, but that won’t help. I need many things, not everything, to improve my situation. I need to know that next week and next month, I will have resources.
The other day, my pill container fell and this is what happened.
The total value of those pills is more than anything else I own. It was a straw-that-broke-the-camel’s-back moment. I half-collapsed/half-laid on the floor. I think I was there for an hour. I didn’t sleep and I didn’t move. I was alert, but I don’t remember thinking anything. The hostel cleaning staff must have seen me because the English-speaking desk clerk came to find out what was wrong.
I unpublished my Facebook Page. I’m not going to check Twitter for the foreseeable future.
One or more people are attempting to run a fundraising campaign. If more people were involved in creating and publicizing it, it would have a better chance of launching and a better chance of succeeding.
We can cure my illness and my poverty if you support my recovery. Additionally, a friend has created a GoFundMe page for me.