(no subject)
Just for the record, over the past few months I've been diagnosed with PTSD, reduced to a gibbering wreck on account of physical pain I could not stop or explain, felt the most excruciating pain of my life when I tore a ligament and dislocated my ankle joint (and then watched helplessly as my "friends" didn't believe I was in pain; I crawled through the dirt on my hands and knees and hobbled like Quasimodo the last fifty meters or so to my room). I've twice been confined to my bed for a week at a time, utterly dependent on the kindness of others to provide me with food, water, and medicine, once because of the most intense (gastrointestinal) illness I've ever experienced, once because of the ankle. I lost everything when a band of armed men robbed the nunnery where I was staying--my teacher had a knife at her neck--and I've watched as Nepal descends further and further into anarchy.
No, I am not in a good mood.
No, I am not in a good mood.