I died in 2019, except instead of actually dying, I had to witness losing everything: my wife, career, ability to talk, ability to leave my house, ability to take earmuffs off, ability to do anything with any noise, ability to sit in peace, ability to think straight, ability to shower in peace, ability to drive, ability to ride in a car, ability to take walks.
I lost my house, my chance at fatherhood, my capacity to predict my future with any accuracy, my sanity.
I died. Maybe if I get past this somehow, I will change my name to Zug Zug and start fresh because the dude that was an up and coming mathematician and married to the love of his life -- well, that guy's dead.
As far as actual suicide, my survival instinct is too strong, so I'll probably stick around just wallowing in sorrow like the disability faker that I am.
Dear ZugZug.
I pressed on the quote button - and now hardly know what to say.
I am 78 years old, and had a good life until seven years ago, when severe tinnitus struck me down. I am not equating myself with your experience, except to say that I recognise myself in your mindset. The circumstances are different of course.
I was a classy, successful jazz trombonist, first call for five bands, plus leading a band of my own. Financially secure.
I lost my silence, my lifelong passion, my music, my identity, my ability to pay our family bills, my health because there is a causal link between hearing loss, tinnitus, and Parkinson's disease.
My lovely wife, an embroidery designer, turned her hand to doing credit control to pay our bills. She worked up until a few weeks before she died. Last November I lost Sylvie, to cancer.
Even though tinnitus was hateful, she made my supreme efforts to live worthwhile. I didn't just love her - I adored her.
But now I do not wish to go on. I have children, grandchildren, and three wonderful pussycats that love me and depend on me.
How can I choose to inflict more pain on them?
So what can I do? The only way forward I can see for any of us that suffer this hateful condition is some kind of stoical acceptance.
I wish for peace for all of us.
Some forlorn hope - I know.
Dave xx
Jazzer