Masks And The Value Of My Life
Updated: Apr 30
This post, by a longtime, really good friend of mine, immediately made me spontaneously write this. It should be in my Raw Writing section here because I haven't read it, and just whipped it off, but it has to do with my body, so I am putting it here. I must first preface by saying I am most definitely not one of those people crying about all the freedom stuff. Anyway... ----
Sometimes it can feel really odd being me. I walk around with a pain in my chest feeling like I am about to have a heart attack at any moment. My gums have a numbing sensation permanently. Wearing a bike helmet is dangerous for me. Of course, breathing hurts, but that's way too easy, because it's too obvious about the pain ravaging my chest and entire torso. When it is chillier out, and I have to wear a hoodie, I need to have my hood up because it hurts too much for the simple material of the hood to rest on my shoulders, neck, and traps muscles. I have to wear bare feet and flip flops in the snow because I can't reach my feet to deal with socks and shoes. I also wear shorts, and barely any shirts in the winter because it hurts too much for clothes to touch my skin. It goes on and on and on in indescribable ways of course, but somehow, at the same time, more people than I could ever count have said I am the toughest person they have ever met, when in truth, my body is the exact opposite of that sentiment. It strikes me so odd.
COVID has made it quite clear that my life doesn't matter. I mean, me, Steven James Doanld Archdekin's life means nothing...not even to many of my friends or family, let alone, strangers. All day, every day, I see endless posts by them basically saying I am a selfish piece of shit if I don't wear a mask, and that I don't deserve any medical attention if I get sick.
The argument comes to what if I make someone else sick? What that says pretty loudly it's OK for all the righteous healthy people to put me in a dangerous risk of situation so that they can stay safe, and that tells me what my life is worth to them...nothing! They count, not me!
For those who say I am being selfish, I reflect that sentiment right back to them for thinking with vicious righteousness that I should be put at risk so they can be safe.
Wearing a mask, as with things like a bicycle helmet, put my life in danger. It's not safe for me to do so. ----
Post script... I've been sick for over 27 years. The ravaging of pain and degeneration in my body has amazed and baffled doctors, but the shittiest part of it all, for the entire time, has been all the countless healthy people who seem to know better of what I need for my life than I do. The level of insult in that could never be quantified, but they seem to be quite pleased with themselves to keep at it, and in turn have woken me up to my true worth. I'm not upset...it's actually nice to know my value behind the curtain.