Tea: Every movement is hell for me. It feels like a red-hot knife is stabbing into my body. I can't even buy painkillers. Cheap ones don’t work for me. The pain doesn't stop for a second. I want to scream out in pain, but I can't - my mother will get scared. She already reacts to my every move with tears... she sits away from me and cries... God, what am I doing to her. I tell her: don't cry, it's not like I'm dead, and I'm not going to... I'll endure this pain and won’t leave you. The bed I'm lying on is already falling apart, the springs are digging into my sides. And I don't even dare dream of a new bed. We don't even have money for bread. Sometimes I think the simplest things - a comfortable bed and a TV - would bring me peace of mind, and I would not feel like an outcast!