Harts are dying alone

Today I decided to write about something different.

Something very worth of talking and thinking of happened to me.

As I wrote in my pervious posts I tend to suffer a lot due to new surrounding issues; although after year and a half I’m not quite sure how can it be named “new”. Yesterday I attended one six-year-old birthday party and I expected for it to be dull. Bunch of kids and some grown ups watching over them. I’d be sitting with my cousins and chit chatting. At some point one of my cousins whispered to me: “There’s Hart”.

And there I saw her holding her phone and making that I-m-overseeing-you face. That’s my aunt Hart. We’re not so close related but we see each other during some family reunions. “I was about to type you a message”, she told me.

Hart’s a silent rebel. Even during her childhood or even toddler years she tend to be different. During her life in Mostar when she was about 4 years old she got bored in kindergarten so she asked her teacher to let her go home. The teacher said: “yeah right, of course you can go ha-ha”. So my aunt got out and took a bus back home. It was a mess later but taking a closer look everything was legit: she asked, they gave her permission to leave, so she left. So my aunt accepted the pattern she made by herself and still uses it. She’s successful, she has a kid, she’s divorced. She’s doing what she likes, no one is getting hurt. Except herself sometimes.

Yesterday we talked a lot about life. We started as chatting about her trip to Belize, but soon we concluded a lot about ourselves. I like her because she talks about things freely and openly. She’s a complete free spirit. There are no taboos or forbidden subjects and everything is logical and has a purpose. We talked about pole dance, how she was thrilled when she saw my videos, when tried it. That’s  what I call a pole dance filter for people. And we discussed some relationship topics, I told her how bad I feel after all those fails, how I can’t find a suitable partner, or better said a partner at all. Like they’re just running away from me. And then she told me to stop and pointed out my good sides and things I’m good at. And that’s what I haven’t heard for so long from anyone. Someone who sees me as a good and pretty and successful and unlike others. And it meant to me after all those tries of the people who are my closest to lure me into some things I don’t like, things which would compress my qualities and make me less worthy and less happy. Finally someone in this town who sees me.

She’s divorced, she does what she wants, she’s successful. But she is very sad. What kind of touched me yesterday was when she told me that she’d like to see a therapist. I don’t see it as a bad thing, but contrary. But somehow in her voice I could hear like she’s got sick of it all. I don’t actually know what that “all” is, but somehow I can understand her.  The rest of our family doesn’t actually appreciate her a lot. My mother and her sisters first. She’s their cousin. They like her because she’s good, but mainly they like to point at her “bad” sides. That bad is the fact she lives with no limitations. The first bad thing is that she’s divorced. You know, it is a disgrace to live alone with a child. Even more disgraceful than living a life with a molester for example, because if you’re living with any man in any house, neglecting your children, that means it is good because you fulfilled some idiotic pattern and it is even better if others see it. Basically you do have a family. You did it. You might suffer but, keep it quiet, because who knows what other people would say about it… The second thing they hate about her is that she travels a lot. Who’d be traveling a lot and being divorced at the same time plus having a child?! Rubbish. She’s unleashed! It is such a shame! Such a, such a shame.

There are many things that people are resenting her, but the thing is that while doing all that stuff she actually doesn’t hurt anyone. So I can’t really understand why is she such a bad person. She’s the rare one who appreciate other people’s good characteristics. She sees quality instead of flaws in everyone, although we have it all. And that is what I need to hear sometimes, that not everyone is bad.

She’s suppressed so much. She suffers. I can see myself in her. I’m growing up into her.

Summing all of this I can only conclude that the world is one wrong place, where it is alright to push yourself down in order to fit in some life pattern made by average people. Also it is acceptable to do harm to others in order to succeed and be jelaous of others who are better than you are; to point out flaws and make people feel miserable because of it; to lessen other people’s success and most of all to exclude all those who are different.

Finding yourself is so hard. In the end it can break you.

Deer (hart) is an endangered specie here, although it doesn’t maybe seem like it. People are killing them because of their hornets and fur which is used to be bragged about. From this perspective deer is loosing his fight against man which he’s been made to join in order to survive. Deer doesn’t want to fight. He lives in the nature, far away from people. He hurts no one. And still he’s being killed… Often people like to take pictures of dead animal after killing it and posting it on facebook or other sites. It looks like they’ve done one great thing. Even if they have, is it really necessary?

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The greatest

I’m so afraid. I’m facing the worst fear I’ve ever felt in my life. I’m so terrified that I could be life threatened. These are the thoughts in my mind while thinking about a problem I’ve been going through. This is the greatest. The greatest, bad thing happening to me right now. It is huge, and again – I’m so afraid of it.

While studying dentistry and some medical subjects, especially forensics, which I’m in particular fond to; at some point I started thinking about death. Law and medicine are often confronted, but forensics is the part of both medical and law sciences which questions, besides some other things – death. When the person is dead and there’s no one who’d speak in their name, forensics listen to body signs left there, the signs which’d tell the real story about it. I like the truth, especially the hidden one which can’t be just told, but the one you must seek for and look and listen carefully, and if you’re clever enough, you’ll find it and spread it.

Last week I was clumsy. As I said in my recent post, I got stabbed on an used needle. It was an irrigation needle in contact with saliva of three, for me unknown patients. All these years I thought that it can’t happen to me and it will never happen. I’m careful.

But my worst nightmare came true.

As I tried to put a cap on a syringe the needle broke through it and stabbed me. I felt the stab and saw the drop of blood. I washed and disinfected the wound. And now I pray.

That was the pressure I’ve never felt before, as if I’m going to explode. I came home and was quiet for tree days. Although I checked up patients’ records and saw no infective diseases recorded I can’t let that burdening feeling go.

The thing about specific virus hepatitis is that it often gives no symptoms although a person is the carrier. Some people never even feel sickness or any kind of discomfort.

In order to detect antibodies in my system, if an infection occurred, it needs to pass between 6 weeks and 3 months, at least. This will be the time I’ll fly above it. And keep thinking what if.

During last week I kept thinking about what my life would look like if the tests I’m about to take would be positive. I’m ill. Like I’m dirty. In my blood there is something bad, taken from another person by mistake while trying to help and do my job. I’m young. I’ll have no family, no children. People will be afraid of me. My family will feel unpleasant around me, so as my friends. I’ll be rejected once again. I cried. I cried so much. I missed myself. No one saw that; my mother kept talking me about some idiotic problems that are bothered by other people from my surrounding, such as my cousin’s bad grades. I though: “If you’d only knew…” I’ll die alone. I’m going to be a threat to anyone who’d approach me. No one would step out and help me if I were in trouble, bleeding, because I could easily infect them… and so on.

I felt so restless. I’ve been having a problem about which I couldn’t speak to anyone. If I’d tell someone in my closest family, for example my mother, she’d call her sister (my aunt) in despair and tell her about that and then it’d spread to my granny and my other aunt and then they’d contact me in horror to remind me once again how bad my current position is and how that happened, why weren’t I more careful, which are the last words I should listen about in that very moment.

I couldn’t keep it for myself and yet again, I couldn’t just yell about it either. Two days ago I was sitting in the living room with my parents. I told them: “I don’t want to do dentistry anymore”. On their question why’s that I answered partially with my problem which was bothering me so hard. I told them that I’m terrified of deadly, severe and life changing infections to which we are, as medical workers, exposed day by day.

Unexpected, I got the best comfort from my dad. I’m not sure if he figured out that my fear is quite real or not, but he comforted me with the right words. His action somehow released me from two things that were struggling inside of me. The first one was, of course, the actual problem I faced. The second one is the fear that he abandoned me long time ago. He didn’t. He was the one who felt. He didn’t tell me some irrelevant tales about others or overwhelmed me with some marginal everyday issues. He gave me some kind of logical explanation about the situation that could be mine… That was all I needed to hear at that moment. During this week I bumped to many people who just kept talking about themselves, their problems, other people problems… I had to listen to all of that and I couldn’t talk about my very own tragedy.

He reminded me that, once again, 2 + 2 in medicine is not necessarily always 4.

It may not be a strong theory. It may not be true. But my mind needs some explanation and someone to tell me that everything will be alright.

I’ll find out my equation in a month.

Thanks, dad.