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Posts Tagged ‘Jesus’

Sorry.

I know no-one really wants to read this shit.

But I can’t talk about it, so this is what I have. Where I have.

I’m depressed.

It’s normal to be depressed. It’s a side effect of treatment. Probably also a side effect of feeling like your future is being ripped away, like you don’t want to die, but don’t want to live like this either. Balancing painkillers with productivity is hard. Trying to be strong for Bailey is hard. Making decisions about treatment and if I should send him to school and should we move back next year or sell horses but he wants his pony and I can’t see him lose one more thing is really motherfucking hard.

So I just try and try and try, because of one little boy who is unlucky enough to have me as the centre of his world, and try not to think too much, because it forces me out of that dark numbing depression but into something worse. Its the reminders that the stupid dog has his life more together than I do, that I have 3 horses that I can’t bear to sell, and can’t bear the stress of keeping.

It’s the ‘you might die, and what about him?’, feeling Craig’s desperation as he hugs me on Mother’s Day, every second person telling me about someone who’s dying or dead from cancer, ‘but that won’t happen to you’.

The aching, chills and hot flushes and feeling like 80% of my skin is covered in newly sensitive scar tissue.

I’ll take my numb bubble, for now.

Except my mind won’t let me.

It keeps forcing it’s way out, like it’s bubbling over and I just want to scream at it to leave me alone because I can cope this way.

I know this isn’t how I’ve really been feeling lately, I can read back here and see that, and the way I’m swinging like a pendulum scares me in an abstract, removed, clinical kind of way.

I see myself from the outside, joking and smiling, making breakfast, reading with Bailey and it almost confuses me. Talking to friends, them saying ‘you can cry anytime’…I couldn’t if I wanted to.  I’d love to.

You know it’s fucked when having a cry because you have cancer seems like an unattainable goal.

I’d love to go and ride, dance with my son, skip along the beach and try and shake this ‘nothing…now screaming anxiety….more nothing….PAIN’ cycle but every. part. of my body. hurts.

This is the part where I have a miracle remission, find Jesus, and meet the most wonderful man in the world, right?

x

 

 

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Yeah, I need to be more positive.  Or maybe just less negative.  I’m annoying the shit out of myself, let alone everybody else.  The problem is, I feel really really desperate in a way I never have before.  And yeah I try and hide it a bit when I’m talking to people but it seeps out.  And then sometimes I think “If you can’t handle me feeling like shit, just don’t talk to me”.  Because really, sometimes its just too bloody hard to smile and say “Yeah, I know things will get better” when there is absolutely nothing to base that on.

I know I will cope with everything, and I know I could cope with more (please god don’t make me cope with any more), but is it really necessary to seem happy with it?  And I only cope because it is the only option I have.  Not because I want to.

I know I’m not nice to be around at the moment.  Picture a feral animal, scared and hurt, snarling and lunging at the hands that try to help it.  That’s me.  Because this is the third time I’ve been told I need treatment for malignant tumours, and this time I am absolutely fucking shitting myself, and so terrified scared.  It is unlikely that I will die anytime soon from this, this time.  Everytime I come out of remission, the chances of complete recovery obviously lessen, and sometimes I just think, is this what my whole life is going to be? 

I have the most beautiful child in the world, and he makes things so much better, and so much worse.  Any mum will understand what I mean.  The anxiety I feel over Bailey is profound.  I never thought my marriage would fall apart so completely, and that I’d lose my health, within weeks of each other.  But if I can keep my son, and look after him, and nurture him and parent him properly, I feel like I can keep myself a bit too.  My grip on reality.  He’s my anchor.  If he’s exactly as he should be, I can cope.

Sorry this is all over the place.  Positivity.  I don’t feel like I can make more than a token effort at this point in time but I can appreciate things.  And I do.  Such small things affect me so greatly.  Dappled light coming through trees in the afternoon.  Bailey snuggling into bed with me on a cold morning.  Seeing my goats all fluffed up and curled together.  The smell of wood fires.  Green fuzz in the paddocks.  True friends who just accept me.

Just gotta keep on keeping on I guess.

x

 

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