Because I absolutely must deconstruct everything.
A couple of the people that I’m closest to atm, seem a little ‘wtf’ at my sudden change in demeanour. And it really was that sudden. One day, I was the epitome of ‘not coping’. The next, I felt ok. Good, even.
I mean, I still have cancer, no savings, no job, no practical ideas of what I want to do ‘when I grow up’ or even just where to go next from here.
I still hate and love the father of my child in almost equal measure.
It maybe sounds a little trite, but it was hitting rock bottom that snapped me back to life I think. Let me just say, that in my moments of clarity while I was in that dark patch, I was very worried for myself and Bailey. I could hear the things I was saying and thinking, hated the person I was becoming, felt like a ticking time bomb really.
I’ve been through a lot, in my very full and intense life (see me owning that shit instead of minimising trauma into almost non-existence?) but nothing has ever kicked my ass like it did in the last couple of months.
Anyway. I’m rambling.
‘Rock-bottom’ for me, was a couple of things. The first, was realising that the sole experience I was looking forward to was being able to drink on my off treatment weeks. So yeah, instead of giving my body a break from being poisoned, and my mind some space, I would just abuse myself more and more so I wouldn’t have to think about anything except how crap I felt. I fucked around with prescription medication. Numbed myself. I’m so ashamed to be writing this. On the odd occasion where I made a concentrated effort to just…be…I couldn’t handle it. I’d pop myself in a meditative mindset (something that used to take me roughly 10 seconds and that I can honestly say is the number one way that I have coped with everything up until this diagnosis) and be thrown out of it with a massive anxiety attack.
Being in my own head felt impossible.
Not having music, noise, facebook, being able to hear my own thoughts was actual torture for me.
Another thing, was finding myself doing something totally depraved and out of character, and instead of exiting the situation, I pretty much held myself in the fire, reached for the pills, turned the music up, and ignored my own feelings, my own standards, my own intuition.
I’m a good person, and I don’t deserve to be treated that way, especially not by myself.
I hope I’m not being premature, or arrogant, but I really really believe the worst is over for me. I don’t mean this won’t be hard, I have a hell of a lot of work to do, and some of it is out of my control.
But I feel like I’m getting the hang of this ‘inner-ok-ness’ thing.