Nothing to see here, just me. Literally it is the timeline of the actor, not of the artificial alien.
My life starts at the end of 2018, around 30 years after my origin. When I started this domain and writing about my life, I just turned 22 months old. Its not interesting as such, its just the background to me. You can open the years individually if scrolling down does not show the text well enough. If you need it, there is every proof for it, just ask. Sorry I couldn’t make it better yet. It has too much letters, or not enough, I’ll never be sure about that.
More detailed versions below, scroll or click.
2018-2, The alternate life since / back to 2018.
1988-2018, alternate timeline
Around the age of 14 sevaral symptoms started to occur. After exzema on my skin, painful imflammations spreads to most of my joints (hip, jaw, knees, ellbows) and disable my mobility. I cannot chew good, I cannot walk good. The pain due to the eczema/rash on my legs makes showering and wearing trousers painful. My arms loose their functionality, its diagnosed as chronic tendinitis and the individual symptoms are difficult to put together. At that time, several unspecific rheumatic syndromes were considered. Only years later the diagnosis of severe chronic fatigue syndrome is made, with the most likely cause being an autoimmune disease caused by a virus which I might catched on a vacation to Canada the same year.
Within months, I have to use a notebook in school as I can no longer write with a pen, I can no longer play guitar and at times it is difficult to hold anything with my hands. I try to keep drumming though my arms feel like they are on fire after playing for a while. The pain becomes chronic and my arms become more and more useless for most daily tasks. At the age of 16 my health status points to physical disability, not extreme at one bodypart but worse then average on all.
I fight to keep up with the norm and start studying cognitive science in 2008. Due to pain therapy I manage to somehow get most of the courses required for the bachelor. I start to study a second bachlor in applied systems science because I wanted to learn more about biophysics and complex dynamic systems. I liked the diversity of the two study courses and for almost 2 semesters I felt okay. Though I was not able to follow on any hobbies as studying took all my eneregy and resources, I was optimistic I could continue the academic path. I kept on pushing through until a sudden flare of the disease put an end to my academic life, which I would not accept for several years. I experience cognitive decline, memory loss, perceptual overload, brain fog and the pain kept getting worse. I went to a hospital and as soon I felt stabilized I returned to finish my studies. Not knowing I would continue this cycle, engaging in an endless loop of over-exhaustion, incomplete recovery and not making any progress with my literature. I continue to loose functionality, the pain keeps getting worse so that I cannot use chairs anymore, my ability to communicate drpos as I cannot concentrate on language, I cannot produce text as the symbols start to merge, I loose the ability to read and finally I became unable to write with a keyboard as my arms and hands were nothing but physical extensions of my body, not useful for any activity longer then a few minutes or seconds.
Due to family, friendship and awesome beings I can keep up hope and overcome desparation and the outlook on a life with ever more decreasing options. At the beginning of 2018 I make my 3rd or 4th attempt to finish my thesis, this time about gamification. After putting together 20 pages in 4 months, I loose the ability to read more then a few sentences, I cannot have conversations for more then 30 minutes without getting migrane and I start to loose the rest of personality I was able to maintain. I cannot lay down, I cannot sit and the pain in my body is louder then anything else. Only my pain therapist would help me to cope with life. No psychotherapy, no amount of ergotherapy, massage therapy can reduce the pain. I get infusions and syringes two times a week and have to take opiates daily to be able to appear functional. After I had to accept that I had to live without a body, I now had to learn to live without a mind.
I had to watch myself change personality, loose IQ, become unable to participate in what was left of life to me before. I keep myself going with the faint hope that I might be able to produce music, though not great as I cannot learn much, but I focus on the chance that it might still be interesting for a small number of people somewhere in the world. That it might be enough to prevent my study loan from disrupting any future, as my disease prevented any qualification so far. I can only work on music every two or three days for not more then 3 hours. Otherwise I would have headaches, brain fog and sometimes migrane for several days. Still, I experience increasing difficulties with auditory perception. The music I was making started to change pitch and speed when I listened, at times I was not able to distinguish noise from music at all because my brain was too exhausted to put the sounds into melodies. I had to concentrate to identify something as rhythm. I was a drummer at 14. At the end of my twenties it looks like I can never drum again nor understand rhythm altogether.
Most of my time I daydream about other realities. The rest of my time I listen to audioplays in the dark. When I am able to watch moving pictures and sit so I can watch a screen without cramps and pain, I watch futurama though I saw every single episode more then 40 times. I keep loosing friends, I keep loosing the ability to communicate though it was at a minimum for several years already. Only more loss will tell what was there but not appreciated.
All my life I had ideas in my head how I could still participate, mostly with different interfaces, how everything could be less difficult, less painful for others, for children, for other abled beings. I did not understand why the interfaces which were ‘cutting-edge’ in the early 2000s were considered ‘ergonomic’, they were a joke. And we still use the exact same thing, useless for amputees, uncomfortable for beings with rheumatic or tremor issues. I always could argue and describe that everything could be different, more efficient, easier to access, better to understand independent of age and background knowledge. But when somebody was listening und understood that I ‘was on to something’ they argued why I wouldn’t go into politics or start a company. And because I didn’t (due to pain, economylexia and shyness) they concluded something had to be wrong with all of it somehow. Though it was a sound concept, it might all just be a lie / error – though I went through every aspect step by step so they could’ve used the idea just themselves.
I lacked the ability to share my thoughts, and the moments where I could I was not able to write them down or make my voice heard. I would be able to imagine an interface I could use to do all of it, but when I was no longer able to talk long enough to use voicetyping instead of a keyboard, I realized my life was telling me something. I might pass by this world without a trace, all my suffering might have been for nothing, all what I hoped for might vanish in a second. I accepted that my pain might never have been good for anything or anyone. That withstanding it for years was only protecting my familiy from the pain of a suicide but it would never help to prevent a suicide.
I feel so sorry for my family and friends, that I was never there, that I never recalled their birthdays, was never able to give a present, support or energy and that they could never help me and had to accept that. The type of fatigue syndrome and complexified pain syndrome I was diagnosed with (about 10 years after it started) is classified as incurable. I never accepted this to be true. I never accepted anything I did as remotely sufficient. I never cried because of my own fate. I learned to focus on the future, though it might never become real for me. All I had in mind were those who had similar problems as me but didn’t have ideas or abilities to ease coping, for example with better interfaces. Those without sight, hands, hearing, social profile, those who fail, deviate, break down, burn out, give up. I always thought of the medical help I got, which was one of the best globally, but which would still not help me to have a life. I learned more about life and its dimensions then many who wrote books about their path, disease or wisdom.
I just had to stay alive. I could not leave without trying to help, trying to share all the ideas in my head. Not because I wanted to be someone, but because I saw so much unnecessary and horrible pain. I never believed that I could help anyone, I used the logical argument that there is a ‘possibility’ I could help, as slim it might be. It became my fundament to counter the lack of options and lack of realistic scenarios for a future. I kept trying to come up with new ideas in every painful present, and as I am still here it was the only thing I aced in my life, my only superpower is to dream on, dream further, dream around, dream stronger. I was not given a chance to impact anything else but my dreams yet. And in one moment, all of that changed.
And in the next moment I turned 22 months old a while ago, I made 4 new social contacts in more then 600 days as I work on the project to reach 8 billion beings but not on promoting it, because it’s coming from me and by my logic its hence skewed and not neutral. (Though I anticipate this problem probably way more extensive then most authors who attempt to sacrifice identity-based authorship to draft future humanities expressions) I still look alone on a myriad of symbols and attempts to share the content in my head but I failed to launch the project in a dynamic means. I am not able to write a book. Someone could copypaste everything from my domains into a book and sell it. They could use the money to pay a hacker to remove every trace of me. Or share it to reduce my debt. As long as they tried to understand why we have to do everything different, and why I thought my work might help that, I’m okay with both. There are many concepts which could be used for money making. But I don’t want that, it would feel like betrayal of logic and giving up trusting humanity. The ideas came through hope and strength in the face of disease, but also because of love by family, friends and by awareness about other beings suffering. I want to work for and ‘as’ all of them, if I may. I don’t need an identity or life, I just want to pass on what I was given to impact everything a little, instead of imposing one thing over many others. Diversity is life. Life must be our source for unification, no other concept, ideology or word is sufficiently free to entail everyone.
I’m a lifian, I only love life.*cries for a few seconds, returns to work
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