My veins

I remember that my veins, especially the one of the left arm were often “hurting” or at least feeling weird, an unease feeling.

Trigger Warning – Critical Content

Almost the whole week I am having this again now, especially after watching “Good morning, Veronica”.

It feels as if I am bleeding or should I say, it feels similar to how I felt whenever I had a bleeding wound from an accident or whatever? Or just bleeing in general, like nose bleeding for instance.

As if there is blood pump the last drop of blood out of my veins. As if I had an open wound bleeding out. And then I imagine, that someone else actually experiences this right now and dies while I am writing about it…

It feels as if it gets colder with the time and although it is almost a numb feeling, it hurts like hell because of the related thoughts, images and because it doesn’t really stop. So although the thing itself doesn’t really hurt or is anything to worry about, it is pretty heavy to handle.

In the past I ignored it often and sometimes just was there like now, hoping it or everything to end.

And then there is this other thought, feeling whatever, that I just want to bite into it or cut it open. At least then the feeling would be appropriate. But I can’t do that, won’t do that, shouldn’t do that.

Then it also could be related to blood pressure, but basically everything is in a way not okay with me, while usually the doctors said, that according to them everything seems fine.

But it is probably better this day, otherwise I would have only gotten into more trouble. The usual way of how things go in (my) life, there is always more trouble waiting around the corner.

And now that I ate something again, my hands are even colder again and the fingertails are purplish. Basically my heart not being able to handle the basic life system, like giving every organ, body part etc. enough blood and oxygen and whatelse. So when I eat, it has to prioritize between processing foot, breathing and other things or parts. Which then often results in cold hands and or feet. And sometimes the brain is not fully available because it is so high up and hard to pump enough upwards.

I had that since secondary school and heart attacks since kindergarden. But so far everything was always normal, when you would have asked the doctors. And I couldn’t talk about these things with them. So there really is no use for them in my life, since all they can do, is telling me what I either already know or even worse, what isn’t even true. And it was probably for the better, that I couldn’t talk about things with them. Otherwise I would probably not be able to write here right now. Or else.

I never really trusted doctors, I just went to them when I was forced to or had to for some reason. Out of free will, nothing can get me near a doctor. At least not one who is actively doing their job, because otherwise a strange on the street could also be a doc. 😀

And no, I have nothing personal against the individual doctor. It is more a personal things against the thing itself. Because usually they weren’t able to help me and at worst made things even more complicated. I mean, when I have to go to a doctor (no matter what kind of), I feel stress, a little pain and axiety. So yea… so much for the “doctor trusting”, because I assume usually people trust their doctors. And again, I have nothing personal against the people, I even like some of the doctors as people. But the same goes for the teachers in school I had and basically anyone. The people themselves, usually weren’t the problem.

And right now the vein, just next to the hand on the left arm, really feels like bleeding out so badly.

I want to put something around it, like a “pressure bandage” or just a warm wool ribbon. But there is nothing. And before you think, that I maybe once cut myself there or something, no that didn’t happen.

But I bet that I probably thought about it since childhood.

I just never was able to do it. Both blessing and hell…

If you don’t count carving lines into the skin with the finger nails, then as far as I know, last year was actually the first time I actually cut myself.

And luckily just a few times and nothing critical.

I just made a few small cuts on my left shoulder, maybe one or two on my right leg and in my foot. The worst part, besides me completely freaking out because I couldn’t believe that I was actually doing that, while I held the knife, was the wound. Because for each of them, there was just this small almost invisible mark. Since the cuts were all very small and not deep. And there never was blood at first. So I feel asleep at some point, only to see that there was a little blood on my blanket and the wound. I realized, that it took several minutes for the blood to reach the wounds.

Because later I also once cut myself with paper or whatever it was and minutes later I noticed that there was blood on my clothes and hand.

And I also didn’t really feel anything, so I also didn’t notice the wound. Similar things often happend, also in the past. There just was blood somewhere all of a sudden and then I was panicking inside and tried to find the source of it. Since I couldn’t really feel anything or if so, then often not where there actual problem was. I mean I once by accident hit a finger with a screwdriver and when I looked at the hand which did hurt, I didn’t see any wound, so I just continued. But a few minutes later I noticed a few drops of blood on the floor or the computer I was putting together. And then I found a wound on the other hand which was bleeding.

So yeah, I can’t really rely on my body sensors, at least when it comes to these kind of things, like pain detection. Because I learned to ignore it on one hand and on the other hand my brain is completely messed up, after all what happened to and around me.

And people who know me, have usually no idea.

I mean, even the doctors and nurses in the hospital were a little confused and also in the past when I was little and had other painful things, but still smiled, the doctor back then was shocked.

But yea… all normal… in my life.

So yea, when I once got a pebble stone into one of my feet, I first didn’t even notice it. Probably there was a little hurt, but nothing which indicated to me, that I should do something about it. I only found out probably a day or so later, that there was something stuck in my foot. Already ingrown, since the wound heal around it. And since just trying to open it with my fingernails didn’t work, I went to the bathroom, took a pair of scissors (such for cutting finger nails). Then I put them under hot water to clean them and hopefully sterilize them (at least enough for my purpose). After that I opened the wound with the sharp ending. It took maybe few attempts because the small stone was not directly on the surface. But then luckily I got it out. And that was about it. I think it didn’t even bleed or anything.

And I don’t know, I probably put a patch on the wound and stopped thinking about it for the most part.

I mean, if I would just read this, while not knowing, that I did that, I would probably say: “Man, this guy really has serious problems.”

But yea… you don’t say…

And I didn’t ask for them, it just happened.

I just thought about my life again and imagined that I was just floating through space and time, not thinking anything evil. Then I heard a call, my mother praying for a child and then even one which should be a blessing for many. So I must have went towards this calling, since I was willing to help. Only to wake up standing on a triggered landmine, not able to move, without any help or change in sight. Oh boy…

And just when I got rid of one of these, there luckily was a million more.


A couple of random videos?

Me completely weird?

Nothing new around here…

All I wanted was life, happiness and freedom.

All I got was hell, a container full of all sorts of problems and boxes for my brain.

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