If my physical health was better, if I had more strength, I'd take my dog and run, never looking back.
But alas, years of anxiety, disordered eating, abuse in all forms by family, abuse from strangers, neighbors…it all seems to have percolated. The loss of my dog has been shattering - he was my baby boy. I will have his picture with me when I CTB.
I began getting sick right before the new year. There was a week where I didn't do a thing except getting up to use the bathroom. I had that "impending sense of doom". Days later I started vomiting blood. Went to the ER close to me, waited many hours and began to slump over in the wheelchair. I was chastised by reception to "sit correctly". Shortly after the scolding, I walked out.
I was sitting outside, booking an Uber to get me home since I didn't want to pass out trying to walk home. 2 nurses approached me, 1 scoffed - "I thought you were sick and now you're playing games on your phone?"
Um, no - showed the screen - I'm booking a ride home through Uber.
Luckily the Uber driver was amazing. I was the last pick up of his night and since I lived close by, he stopped at a convenience store so I could buy electrolyte beverages. Hospital never gave me an IV, even though I was brought by ambulance.
All said - unless I could be with my dog again, no, I wouldn't fake my own death and start a new life somewhere else.