Tetsu doesn't know what I'm thinking about when he holds me like this. We'll be on the couch, he'll be holding me, and I'll be thinking about terrible things. I can't possibly tell him these things. They would break his heart. 

Sometimes, I want to crawl away. I want to find somewhere, somewhere I can disappear. Where I won't have to disturb anyone. No one will judge me. No one will miss me. No one will be bothered. I'll just die there, and no one will know or care. If a tree falls in a forest with no one around, does it make a sound? I won't make a sound. 

I don't understand why we must judge others. Especially for things we can't control. I thought for years that this illness was my fault. I now don't think it's my fault, but those feelings remain, unattached to anything, but they still rise to the surface for no reason. I still think, "it's my fault" when I know for a fact it isn't my fault. I can't control it. I become very emotional. And all the while I'm thinking, "what is this? Why? Why am I acting like this?"

My illness is a physical torture. But my mental one is a torture all its own. Some call it Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. But, it isn't "Post" for me. It's on-going. It will be "Post" when I'm dead. I've spoken to therapists. They say it's PTSD. But it's not, because the cause never ended for me. 

Sometimes I get so sad about it, that I want to end it all. But I know if I do that, the person who is likely to find me is Tetsu. Or probably his mom. Or...one of his nephews. It makes me want to vomit. 

I'm causing so much suffering, and my death will cause more suffering when I'm gone. Hurting people even when I'm dead. It won't stop. No matter if I do it myself or it's from natural causes. It's the same pain that I will cause. So much pain.

Thinking about Tetsu in pain. Thinking about him crying. Or being depressed. All because of me. Thinking about anyone I love in pain. I have no words for it.

These are things I can't say. When I say things like this, therapists say it's PTSD. They never offer to help me work it out. They don't have any words either, because they don't know. They can't relate. How can you offer advice if you've never experienced something like this yourself? Even if you've talked to others with a terminal disease, you don't really know what it's like if you don't have one. 

When I first got diagnosed, and my doctor told me I was going to die... I just sat on my couch when I got home and stared at nothing. I wanted to reach into myself, just pierce my skin, put my whole fingers and hands and arms in there, and drag out, force out, tear out everything that was wrong with me. Blood, guts, all. I'll do anything, I thought. But I was just trapped. And there was this thing in my body that I'd never be able to excise. No matter what I did. Felt like some dark creature, tearing me apart cell by cell, and I couldn't touch it. It was intangible. There, but not really there, more of an idea. And you can't physically tear away an idea. 

That impending doom filled feeling. Just trapped, in your own body. Just knowing from then on, and ever since before I was born, I was marching towards this. A fate. An actual fate. Being able to predict your own death, and know for certain you are right. 

No one knows, but I tried to commit suicide many times. In my own home. I know what can kill me. My diet. That's the easiest. Get some really high blood sugar. It's even easier now, having low blood sugar. I wouldn't even have to do anything to kill myself now. Just go to sleep. That's it. But back then, I had to devise plans. Sometimes, I'd eat a lot of chocolate and candy. Just keep going and going, getting beyond full, eat until I vomited it. But it didn't kill me. I'd pass out, and wake up, and I'd be fine. I'd feel sluggish, but I wouldn't be dead. I thought, what am I doing wrong? 

The only person who knows about this is my doctor. She'd find such high blood sugar counts. She thought it was abnormal. She knew I was off my diet, because with my diet my blood sugar counts were predictable. She discovered what I was doing. Put two-and-two together. She knew that the only way my blood sugar counts could be that high was if I was doing it on purpose. She was right.

She talked to me about it. Tried to give me another therapist referral. I refused it. I felt so low. She said, "I know you feel like you have no control, and killing yourself gives you a sense of control. But if you can gain control by killing yourself, you can gain control in other ways, too." That conversation changed my course.

I still wanted to kill myself. I still wanted to not be here anymore. But her words made me curious. What other ways could I gain control? What things could I change? What did I have the power to change? 

I still think about that conversation when I feel low. When I feel like I am out of control. I think, what power do I have right now? Don't give up. Don't say, I can't do it. There are things I can do. There are things I can choose. I can choose to not kill myself right now. Killing myself is not inevitable. I can choose to go do something that brings me joy. I can choose joy. I can literally choose it right now. I can choose to think in a positive way. I choose to say no to negative thoughts. It takes a lot of work to understand a negative thought and reject it. It's not easy at all. It's even impossible, some of these thoughts. But there are some I can reject. Some I can control.

I've learned patience, how to be patient with myself. I can take time to be upset. That's okay. It's okay to be upset. That's natural. If I wasn't upset about this, that would be the unnatural part. But I have to also think about what comes after being upset. And that's where I have a choice. What will I choose to do with the time after I calm down? 

I choose to learn a new recipe. I choose to learn a new song. I choose to look up at the stars and think about what's up there. 

The stars in particular fascinate me, because science says we're all made of star stuff. In the Big Bang, tiny particles started floating in space. We're all from those particles. So, we're star stuff, because stars are made up of those same particles. Whenever a star explodes, star dust makes the planets. It makes us, too. 

When I die, I'll still be star stuff. So, no matter if I die, I will be the same. In a way, it's not really dying, because I'm not going anywhere. 

This thought brings me comfort in my darkest moments. 

Because, I'm not really dying. I'm not going anywhere. I'll still be star stuff, somewhere.