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In 2014, I was attacked on the street, severely beaten, and underwent surgery after that (I could have died). I was lying down for a long time, I couldn't work normally for more than a year, along the way personal problems also piled up — a divorce, I was expelled from the fifth year of university and I found myself in a situation where the questions ” What should I do?” and “For what?” bombarded my mind in turn.
I began to go to the dacha and admire the flowers. I thought about everything, saw myself and my life from the outside, saw who was next to me in a difficult moment, began to build a shed in the country and slowly move away. Now I moved to another city, met a girl. Everything is better than it was before the attack. I became stronger after all this, although there are many things I can't forget.
Another look at the question. The answer is not philosophical.�
I went through an operation as a child, not complicated or deadly, but I will share my thoughts and views at that time(7 years old): I was incredibly proud of myself, I told everyone I knew about it, it was an achievement for me, I was “cool”. Someone once told me that “anesthesia makes you stupid” and after that I also convinced everyone of this.
Hmm. You know, I didn't get a flash of ” Oh my God. We must appreciate every second! “etc. No. I just made sure that there are the right people around who are always ready to help. And I'm always ready to respond in kind.�
However, I still realized how valuable a child is for a mother ,and how we, children, very often do not see this and do not fully realize it
Unfortunately, my disease has a chronic form and attacks occur consistently every few months. I go to hospitals and the ICU more often than I go to visit my grandmother. And that taught me something. The first attack was in September. Before that, I was constantly driven, sad (unhappy loves, lack of friends and difficult relationships with my parents: a typical set of teenagers). Everything I've been through over this time has taught me one simple truth: all this nonsense and soul-searching is useless and means absolutely nothing. Life is beautiful, multi-faceted, you need to live every day, enjoying it.
My illness taught me to love life. Now I live every day as if tomorrow I will go back to the hospital for a few months:) To be honest, I'm kind of happy about it. Every day has become brighter, and the world seems to have opened up anew and opens up every time you come home. You can even learn to appreciate simple silence and solitude. Oddly enough, my illness taught me to look more cheerful.
No way. I learned only one rake that needs to be avoided. But there were still a lot of vital obstacles around. Strange, why did I get such a cheap price for this lesson? Good question, made me think.
Oh, it's a wonderful feeling when you realize that everything is finally over. All the problems begin to seem small and insignificant in comparison with the trials you have endured, you are happy to just walk and breathe, you are happy about the slush, the crowd in the subway, the world seems beautiful. This can be called euphoria, which is similar to what you feel when you fall in love: you just feel good and you don't need anything else to be happy. You think that you will never complain about your fate again, because all problems can be solved when you have health, and when you don't have it, nothing is a joy. I once heard a clever thought: if you don't make health one of your top priorities when you're young, it will be your only priority for the rest of your life. Truth. You promise yourself to take care of yourself from now on and not be discouraged by trifles. But a month or two passes, and you start whining again about everyday problems, worry about money, and get bored with small things. Human nature is incorrigible. However, a clever thought settled in my head: it happens that it is very bad, and it seems that there is no way out and there is only darkness, pain and despair ahead, but everything passes, everything gets better. There are bad days, weeks, months, but it doesn't last forever..life will definitely please you later and give you many more good moments.
Without going into details, I will say that a few years ago I almost died of an illness, and only a miracle saved me. I've been noticed ever since. I've become more open,active, and confident. I stopped putting myself out in front of people for fear of doing something they didn't approve of. I understood who is a friend and who is a chest.during the illness, only two of my friends did not leave me,all the others left, and the girl asked not to come to her house, because her relatives were unpleasant to look at me. Yes, there are still echoes of the disease and it is still difficult for me, but if I had the opportunity to go back, I would not fix something and would allow it to happen, because what does not kill us makes us stronger. My mom had something similar, but not fatal. After a serious illness, during which my father left her, she also became different. She believed deeply in God and made her family a priority. Now she is a beautiful and cheerful woman.