Covid has been hard. 

I started it in a terrible job where I was bullied and mistreated a lot, by the end it was outright abusive/illegal. 

I finally got another job in Dec 2020, thats when I got sick. Terrible stomach pains and vomiting/nausea. The drs sent me for copious amounts of testing, I was told that I may have pancreatic cancer at the age of 27. Pancreatic cancer has a 10% of living the next 5 years. I was devistated. After what felt like an eternity of waiting for answers and crippling anxiety/depression/stress, I got the all clear from cancer but no diagnosis. I still have symptoms,  just less now.

Feb 2021 I had to leave my small family. I lived with my two brothers and dad, they're all I had. Family has always been so incredibly important to me. But due to unfortunate circumstances, I had to leave very quickly. My brothers and dad are no longer in my life. I lost my home and family.

I've been struggling with living from place to place, I haven't felt like I have a home in a very long time. The only familiarity was my budgie, the only thing I got out of that shithole of a job. It may seem weird but he was my rock and best friend. He died a few weeks ago. I feel responsible and sick with guilt. I hate myself for the fact that he passed.

I haven't slept well in a really long time, I am in a constant state of fight or flight, I'm functionally suicidal a lot of the time, I have premature ventricular contractions that are getting worse and more frequent, my hair is starting to fall out, constant stomach upsets, I'm always stressed, always on edge and I think I'm beginning to unravel.  

I don't think I've properly delt with any of this emotionally. Maybe I feel like I haven't had the time to deal with one before the next thing happened. Maybe I'm just bad with dealing with stuff.

Oh yeah, I guess then there is the whole covid/lockdown thing.

I just wanted to put this out somewhere, I feel a little better just writing it and getting it out. 

If you've read it, thankyou for listening.