Blood

Repeat and repeat, the plea for care and concern, and see them ignored and made nothing of.

Acknowledged by answering myself to console myself that yes, at least I heard myself if nobody else does.

A simple "oh" to myself, an act of giving up really, but somehow it would trigger the common courtesy of acknowledgement. Too late, the damage is done.

The "I don't know what to say" just reinforced how unimportant it is. Courtesy aside, if there were any trace of care or concern, there would be plenty to say and do.

The message is clear. So I stopped bothering.

Day after day, head foggy and heavy, often ache. Discomfort and pain on various part of the body, constant irritation. Sick and illness comes and goes. I could only trudge on, on my own.

I could drop dead and nobody in the house would realise for many hours, absolutely no chance of discovery within the golden period where I could still be saved.

That's just how it is.

The cold and running nose flared up again yesterday, so I was in even worse condition than I already was for many days. And dad noticed. He asked after me. He offered to drive me to the clinic. Care and concern, from blood.

Other |sane side| category entries.