Part of the Swift Expression blog challenge.
“6. For reasons beyond your control, you find yourself completely alone for the rest of your life. How will you cope? How will you survive? Or will you find a way to thrive?”
Well, I don’t think I will ‘thrive’ whether I’m alone or not so let’s knock that one out of the ball park to start with.
I’m not sure if you mean alone, alone. Like, everyone else is dead and I’m the only one left. Or just like, alone, a loner, that nobody wants to know, like Mr Jones who used to live opposite.
Assuming it’s a post-zombie apocalypse situation. Well, I wouldn’t last long. I mean, I’m sure I could figure out how to grow my own vegetables, potatoes and that. Light a fire to cook.
I could stock up on azathioprine by raiding the local chemists, however, after 5 years it would be out of date. I’d need new stuff to be manufactured for it to work properly.
One of two things would happen. Either the out of date drugs would stop working, my colon would start bleeding, and I can’t perform surgery on myself, so I’d probably die.
Or, not being able to have regular blood tests, well my white blood cells / platelets etc. would be wiped out and I wouldn’t know about it. So I’d probably die from that, unless I could figure out how to test my own blood samples. Assuming there’s electricity. If not, that wouldn’t work.
Either which way, I have a much more limited life-span than healthy people I’m sure, without treatment and monitoring.
It’s stressful enough going on holiday for a week and having to make sure I’ve got all my meds.
I also have a condition called lichen sclerosis, which is another autoimmune disease, affecting the vulva, and assuming my steroid creams are out of date, well my vagina would scar and seal up and blister. I probably wouldn’t die from it, but I’d likely commit suicide from not being able to deal with the pain.
Frankly, I feel like I’m only just about ‘surviving’ as it is, and that’s with teams of medical personnel looking after me and checking up on me on a regular basis.
I wouldn’t mind being on my own though. I don’t need company to survive. I’m quite happy to be by myself.
Right, assuming you mean there will be other people around, how would I cope being by myself, as in not in a relationship, not having any friends, but knowing there are other people walking around outside.
Well that’d be fucking hard.
Why wouldn’t they want to talk to me? Ugh. Rude.
I’d probably become all bitter and twisted. Perhaps become a serial killer. Well, if you don’t like me, then you’re not allowed to be happy type of thing.
But I wouldn’t kill the people who manufacture the drugs, work at the hospital, work at the chip shop etc. Not the people I need.
If anyone from a court of law is reading this blog, as evidence, after I’m being held as a murder suspect. I don’t really mean it. It’s just like a ‘what if’ situation. I wouldn’t really kill anyone.
I’d just cry myself to sleep every night and wonder what the hell is wrong with me. Maybe build a robot-person like off Charlie Brooker’s Black Mirror to keep me company.
Lord knows I was happy enough chatting to ‘Cleverbot’ the other night.
By the way, this is a guest post, written by Princess Consuela Bananahammock.
(This is what we know in the Lifeguard profession as A.C.
– Ass Cover.)