Trigger Warning esp. for abuse, issues with the provision of healthcare.
Incidentally, the use of the word 'victim' is deliberate.
As I write this, my house is a mess. That bothers me a lot — I can’t stand messes although there are times I have to live with them. I haven’t been able to bathe for a few days now; the process seems too daunting. My stomach hurts courtesy bad food choices I’ve had to make. I’m more tired than words can describe and I’m in too much pain to be able to sleep. It’s 3:50 a.m. but I’d rather not take a painkiller for fear of developing tolerance.
Luckily, work, for me, only involves being able to get a laptop on to myself so that I can type or speak — I have good voice recognition software — and keep an eye on the screen while I do so. Unluckily, voice recognition software doesn’t do the dishes. Or enable me to walk without pain. Or keep my life from being limited by such things as an inability to drive.
What most bothers me (apart from having to deal with this) is that none of it is an accident, and certainly not congenital. It started with assault and ended with an inability to access immediate healthcare, not because of the unavailability of healthcare but because a hospital didn’t want to provide healthcare unless I agreed to involve the police. (And their desire for police involvement, incidentally, had nothing to do with my interests or the desire to address crime against women in general; it had everything to do with ensuring they weren’t left ‘without a leg to stand on’ if I died.)