I shouldn’t be alive right now. Around the age of 12, I didn’t think I’d be alive for very long, and honestly, I didn’t want to be alive. By that age I had already experienced lifetimes worth of abuse; physical, emotional, sexual. I didn’t know that I would experience domestic violence, sexual assault, and emotional abuse as an adult.

With each passing milestone, I was shocked I was still alive – 18, 21, 30, 40. I had attempted suicide a few times throughout my life, the last attempt was when I was 34 years old, and the closest I came to succeeding. In addition to that, I had been in a severe car accident, been beaten within an inch of my life by a couple of past partners, been gang raped, raped by prior partners, my ex husband tried to strangle me, I had been hospitalized for alcohol poisoning with a BAC of .33 when I was 18, and had overdosed on heroin several times. Thankfully I’m past all of that now and in a good place. I go to therapy regularly to continue to work through my past traumas.

I’m 42 years old now and at the time of writing this, I have been in the hospital for the past 4 days. Tuesday morning I woke up having difficulty breathing with intense pain every time I took a breath. My husband drove me to an urgent care, who then directed me to go to the emergency room at a hospital. In the past when I’ve gone to the ER, nothing was found and I was sent home. I thought this time would be the same. It was not.

After a few hours and several tests, I was told I had several small blood clots in both of my lungs. I had a pulmonary embolism and would need to stay in the hospital, go on blood thinners, and once my blood met certain criteria, I could go home 48 hours after. The doctors and nurses told me that if I had not come in to get checked out, there was a good chance I would have died. My condition is especially serious because both lungs are affected. I’ll likely have spent a week in the hospital before I can go home. They have no idea why this happened so when I see a hematologist in a month, they will test to find out if I have some sort of blood disorder. At times I’ve wondered if this happened because I have Karmic debt to pay off, or if someone used dark magic against me. It’s probably neither and just my body doing a thing.

Hospital stays can be very humbling. I’ve had to have my blood drawn every six hours, from my hand, because my body sucks. But, as of yesterday, I only have to have my blood drawn once a day. The first night I was there I was not allowed to walk to the bathroom because of the danger of a blood clot moving to my heart or brain, so I had to use a “comode,” which is essentially a chair with a bucket under it. It was right next to my bed. I’m not able to take a shower because I’m hooked up to a heart monitor and IV blood thinner, plus the blood clots are still a risk. I have to provide updates to the nurses on my daily urinary and bowel functions. The first day I was hospitalized, I had to tell 30 different people how I ended up there. I’m limited on what I can eat and when.

Oddly enough though, right now I feel better than I have in quite a while. I suspect part of that is because I’ve consistently been eating 3 meals a day since being in the hospital. Left on my own, I often forget to eat, and usually have 1 meal in the evening with a couple small snacks during the day. Of course, having the blood clot problem being taken care of helps.

Being close to death at a point in my life when I want to live is an odd feeling. It puts so much into perspective and makes me thankful for all that I have. It also reminds me that I need to live life and enjoy it, because our time here is so much shorter than we realize. So many events and actions have tried to take me down, yet, I live. I’m a tough bitch and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.