I once made a list of the most shittiest days in my life, when I was having the shittiest day in my life. In retrospect, it was only the summit and catharsis of a series of events that are connected by a medical condition that caused my most painful experience, both mental and physical, eight years ago.
I am not afraid of hell, if it exists, which I don’t believe. I am not afraid of torture, because there can’t be an experience, to my mind, that could be more painful than what I went through. There are no words to describe pain so massive that it took the heaviest narcotics to simply dull. For eight days I had a really hard time breathing because every movement in my chest felt like I was tearing my ribs apart – even my heart beating was almost too much to bear.
What is the medical problem? My blood is too thick, it spontaneously coagulated in my leg vein, and the blood clot was washed into my lungs – pulmonary embolism. I was 19 years old then.
It’s happened one or two times after that, but the first one killed all the nerve endings in my chest, so those were painless.
I can’t really get into why this has also scarred my psyche so badly, since I’m not really an expert, and it would take a few hours to write it all down, but just thinking about it right now and writing it down was a very painful reminder.