I almost got medicine that would likely cure one or more of my medical problems. I almost had an income. I almost had a place to live.
My symptoms are stronger than ever. My physical strength is lower than ever. My emotional strength is gone. To manage my symptoms, I take vitamin B complex, L-tyrosine, modafinil, diazepam, alprazolam, and venlafaxine. I don’t have the first five medicines: I only have venlafaxine. I don’t have enough money to buy the others. I don’t have enough money for a shower: it’s been 45 days since I bathed or did laundry.
Because everything is difficult, I have misplaced four items. The pocket knife and rope were important; the other two things were minor. I lost a strap for my hammock. The hammock has a new purpose now: keep dogs and pests out of my food. I lost it when it fell 30 meters into the bottom of a waterfall. I was trying to get a mushroom that was growing on a ledge about three meters from the top. Because I’ve been much closer to death, I don’t count that incident as cheating death. Nevertheless, losing five items is costly for me, especially emotionally.
I had a great plan. It almost turned my life around.
Almost.
I don’t have a plan now, but poverty destroyed my best opportunity in the last seven-and-one-half years, and it will certainly be a factor if I get another opportunity. PayPal: [email protected]
