Three Deaths

I hate everything today.

The past 2 to 3 weeks has culminated in a series of events that have put me over the edge. I am angry, restless, tired and bitter. I want destroy everything. I would say i just don’t care anymore. But it’s actually the opposite. I care so much that I just want to turn it off and make it stop.

Event #1) An old friend from high school had asked me to donate some of my hand made jewelry items to a fund raising event she was doing for her mom. Her mother had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. She was mid chemo. The bills were too much and she needed help. So a ziti dinner with an auction was created. We talked back and forth. I did my best to give her advice to help her through the experience. I donated a bunch of items and sent gifts for both her and her mother to keep. I followed up with her often to see how her mom was holding up. Her Mom didn’t make it through treatment and passed away. I missed the wake due to an event I was suppose to be vending at. I wasn’t part of the process or anything but it still saddened me to hear. I still haven’t reached out to my friend privately.

Event #2) A few days later Robin Williams killed himself. Normally celebrity deaths don’t mean much to me. Usually an Oh really, that’s too bad. Then life goes on. This one struck me. When I was a kid growing up, my mom was a bipolar (manic) depressive. It was a struggle. She was a wreck more often then not. I was a big fan of escapism. I watched tv, hid out up in my room. I lost myself in music and comedy. Especially stand up comedy. Even from about age 7 my Mom would allow to watch things that were rated R. Robin Williams was my very favorite.I use to do his routines on the playground. He was very public about his manic episodes. It gave me hope. He gave me hope. His loss felt unreal and tremendous. Someone I so looked up to had just thrown in the towel. What the fuck man. I feel stupid even saying it. I felt stupid for mourning it. I never thought I could be so effected by someone I did not know personally. But I was and still am. It was like losing a hero. I don’t know why I said like – it WAS losing a hero.

Event #3) Back in June two of my cousins graduated from college. We had a picnic to celebrate. Their maternal grandmother was there. She was at many of our family events. Even though their Mom and Dad had divorced Grama Jane always came to our events and stayed close with my uncle. She always felt like her daughter had wronged him.Their relationship stayed in tact despite the divorce. At this picnic she asked me questions about my Cancer, chemo and radiation. She told me she was sick. She hadn’t told anyone else yet, and wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She said it made just make her daughters fight. That she didn’t think those treatments would be options for her. If I were her, and I thought I could pass away, what would I do? I thought for a few minutes and gave her my most honest answers. I said in my experience, sometimes people fear what they don’t understand. When you say I am sick, or I have Cancer, sometimes people retreat. They think about their own mortality and freak out. On a few occasions you will find wonderful folks who do think of you first. I told her she should go out and live. Do all the things she wants to do with her time left. Celebrate every minute. And FIGHT! Fight like a mother fucker. Don’t take no as an answer. Look into other doctors. Other therapies. But as far as telling her family, kids, etc. I told her that is her choice. If she thinks it will give her more grief then good, then go out the way SHE wanted to. She told me there was a will, that she just didn’t know where it was. That she planned on spending her last days doing all the legalities. I told her if that isn’t how she wanted it to end, don’t do it that way. Please go and enjoy every moment you have left. I literally said let someone else deal with that. Just take care of yourself and live.

I have serious guilt over what I said. I didn’t tell anyone what I knew at her request. Even though the whole way home I thought to myself, I should call my Uncle and tell him. I didn’t. I rationalized it as it’s her choice, not mine.

On Monday of last week my cousins called me from the airport in NYC saying they were stuck there. They flew in with no plan. It was 6 am. I happened to wake up and see the message. I scrambled to get some cash together, fought with The Smoker to wake up and drive. We zoomed through commuter traffic, picked them up and brought them to the hospital. Five hours later Grama Jane died. 

I was the only one from my mothers side of the family besides my cousins that showed up to her memorial service. My heart was heavy. I quickly learned that NO ONE knew she was that sick. NO ONE. Except me. A week ago she told everyone she had a few weeks left, then it became she has 72 hours left. Then she was just gone. She never got the Will or insurance stuff together. No one knew why she was so stubborn and didn’t say or do anything more then she did…. I knew why.

Yesterday I had a dinner for my family. An impromptu goodbye party for my cousins. Low key and fun. Pizza, wine, video games for the kids. More people then i expected showed up. My cousin Dan started talking about her Grama’s passing. I started to tell her that she was asking me about Cancer therapies back at the end of June. I didn’t tell her the full extent of the conversation. Just made mention. She burst into tears and said that she was so angry. I panicked. I don’t know why i had even opened my mouth so soon after the passing of G.J.. Dan said why was she so stubborn! That means she knew she was sick! She fucking knew and she didn’t tell anybody! I would have come home sooner! I would have spent more time with her! I am so mad at her! I immediately shut my mouth. Saying more would have only caused her more pain. I apologized over and over.

Dan left last night. Today I have spent all day with my heart heavier then ever. I have such guilt. Guilt for not speaking up as soon as I knew. Guilt for still being alive. Guilt for surviving. Guilt for not doing more for Grama Jane. I had her contact info. I should have called or emailed SOMETHING to check in!

All of these events have just rocked me. I am a grumpy angry mess. And I hate myself even more for knowing how much pain my cousins are in and that I could have eased it. Instead I made it worse. 

Ever since my own Cancer, I have felt like this weird messenger to other Cancer patients. I meet people and they tell me their secrets. They cry. In many cases I have never even met them before. I think getting to the brink of death and coming back sends people a message. Other Cancer patients and survivors maybe sometimes need that. But when they don’t survive. When they aren’t here anymore it fucking devistates me. All I can think is why am I still here and you aren’t. 

I can’t even talk about it anymore.

Like A Boss

Sitting here at 1 in the morning watching television. I am still in shock I think. Today we made the oral agreement and arrangements. It’s pretty much a done deal. The Smoker and I are renting out a large space in an old factory behind an infamous college to use as our business and occasional living space. It will be one part office for my social media, web and promotions work, one part creative studio for me to make things, and one part retail gallery space. I’m very excited. 

Now I will say I am feeling 80% positive on this. This is huge! My hope is that this will be the thing that puts me over the top. Together the Smoker and I are doing ok money wise. I mean we aren’t living the good life! We’re still pretty broke. However, we aren’t suffering the way we used to. We go out to eat now and then and things are getting paid. My hope is that having a real location will bring me more business. I have asked The Ex and Shy to work for me on occasion in trade. They’re both on board! I’m also asking a friend of mine from high school to occasionally fill in when they are working their real jobs.

I’m in shock. I can’t believe this is really happening. I’m going to sort of have a staff, kind of. And a place of business. And I’ll be able to afford it! What?!? That’s the crazy part in all of this. I worked out a great deal with the landlord. He’s really excited to see what I bring to the place. I’ll be paying around $600 and my upstairs neighbor, a client/boss of mine, is going to split the internet and cable bill with me so she can use my wifi when she’s there. That already reduces my current costs by about $300 + a month. Shy keeps saying I can’t lose on this. We’ll see.

The downside of the situation, the neighborhood is more downtown then uptown. I don’t think there will be a whole lot of parking (all though I have yet to see it without tons of snow piles, so maybe not.) And I need to build into it quite a bit, which might be pricey. But the upside on on that is my Dad is a contractor, I know a back up contractor that will work on the cheap with flexible payments and The Ex works at Home Depot complete with discount!

Maybe for once in my life, the universe has my back on this. There is a million reasons why this shouldn’t work out for me. I’m going to keep focused on the handful of reasons why it will…. 

The Root

TEN whole fucking posts for January. Wow! Well somebody pat me on the back. That’s probably never going to happen again.

We’re into February. I am struggling with my demons and winning for the most part. Still have a backslide here and there with food or weed mostly. But other then that, it’s all been positive.

This is the part I have to continue to maintain. It is very easy for me to be overwhelmed by too much happening at once, and then slip into my world of fear. My biggest demon of all. The thing I have the toughest time admitting to let along dealing with. My level of depression and agoraphobia. I have been working on myself, this blog being a big part of that, in hopes of getting to the root of why I am like this and find ways to stay strong and fight it.

It kills me how much of my life is lived in secret. I WANT to be the type of person that says This is who I am, I stand by it. If you don’t like it too fucking bad! But I am not. I act like I am that person a whole lot. But I am a little fraidy cat when push comes to shove. I don’t talk about my depression openly at all anymore, or my weed use. Partially because of the fear of losing work from it. My Dad doesn’t know really know about either. He and his wife can be incredibly judgmental and I just can’t handle the majority of their expectations. My father is the reason for a lot of the anxiety I carry. And a lot of my life fears. So I just steer clear of the things I feel they don’t need to know. For my new readers, my father is a tough subject for me. Our relationship is at it’s best now in it’s current state. But most of my life our history has been not so good. A quick refresher course for old readers, and fill in for new readers. Here we go.

My parents were teenagers (Mom 17, Dad 16) when they had me and were divorced within 9 months of my being born. I did not “meet” my father until I was about 15 going on 16. The details of why he wasn’t in my life are still largely debated. The latest incarnation of the tale – he had a fight with my Grandmother that prompted her to move us away from him. We tried to build a relationship for years. I spent as much time as I could with him, but a lot of weird stuff went on. Like the time he was “attacked” at Home Depot and never showed to pick me up. I did not find out until years later that my Dad was still fighting a heroin addiction. He wasn’t clean until I was about 20 or so. When he became clean, we stopped talking for about 8 years. I had gotten sick and after a lot of doctor visits he thought I was telling him I had an STD. He told everyone on that side of the family. I was horrified and embarrassed. Really it was PCOS or poly cystic ovarian syndrome. This would later be a a big cause for my battle with cancer. When I got sick, my father and step mom took me in during my treatment. My Dad lost his job and they began to resent me and treat me like shit, looking at me as an expense (even though I paid for everything myself, and then the state took over.) This built up and combusted into a huge fight the day after my last chemo treatment where he said a string of awful things to me. I was thrown out that night onto the street with a bag and no where to go. My Mom had to come find me in the middle of the night. As fate would have it I found an apartment and job two days later. I had put the application in for both the day before our fight. This is something I never entirely forgave him for. But for the sake of my sisters, I moved on.

I don’t know even where to begin with my Daddy Issues. I love him. He is my favorite person. I hate him. He is a selfish bastard. I am too much like him. I am nothing like him. The older I get the more I seem to follow in his footsteps. Then I realize and recoil. Forgiveness is a powerful thing. I have forgiven so much. But the hurt, it’s still there. Reminding me not to trust him. Reminding me not to trust men.

When I was a kid and I would ask my Mom who my Dad was, she would say You don’t have a father. Then follow it up with, Men only want one thing from you. Don’t give it to them and don’t trust them. Now how do I reverse those years of mistrust, anger and learned hatred in me? I think these are the roots to my issues to commitment in anything.

Getting Doug with Juice

So things are… good.  For the most part, yeah, like good. I am working steady. I am maintaining momentum. I am doing good with the juicing and working on my blood sugar.  I am really feeling the effects of juicing and a low carb low sugar diet now. I have a lot more energy, and my medical issues seem to be regulating themselves.  My blood sugar has gone from over 400 down to 271 so far. No meds, no nothing. I hope it continues to drop. If I can get into the 100s by next week it will be nothing short of amazing.

I am still smoking the dread marijuana. But at a more tolerable level. I am smoking about half as much as I was. My hope is to get down enough to where I can take it or leave as I do with beer or wine.

I am now officially in two stores, I have jewelry in one shop and my knits and vintage clothing in another. I will be placing more jewelry work in a third shop next week. I am so proud of myself for this. Things are really starting to come together. My work in all respects is in demand all of a sudden! My other business venture,  simple website and graphic design, PR and a la carte small biz and artist solutions is also doing pretty good. I just finished a shopping cart website for a local crafter.  I am about to start another one at the end of the week.  Another client called asking me to do her social media for 2 weeks.  And I am meeting with my crazy artist client tomorrow – things are going much better with her as well.

I guess that whole change one thing, change everything saying is true. I chatted with my friend Stevie today. This is the person I cancelled on to help her with an event when I kept panicking and having super sad time. She runs the third shop where I will be bringing more jewelry to.  She is just such a sweet amazing friend. I told her how hard things had been. That I just kind of crumbled under myself and have been working to not sink further down. She said something to me that was just like Oh wow, she gets it.  She says ” I know you struggle, but you have to think of your cancer as this gift. It gave you this new way of seeing everything, feeling everything. It changed you for the better. It was a terrible thing to go through but I think it was suppose to happen and leave you with this insight. The medicine was in the poison.” She told me she thought I was amazing, to never give up and that she loved me.  She is a person I met and instantly just responded to. Immediately bonded. That’s a friend. Someone who says I know you couldn’t function, and I know you’re better then that and I support you through the good and bad. And I love no matter what. It was a big smile for my heart.

In all of this madness I have had this profound shift in my life and career. As scary as taking risks are for me, I have completely changed the way I do everything and said fuck it. And it seems to be working. Depression or not. That’s just mind blowing. I also noticed in these decisions and shifts, I have walked away from an all male corporate style world full of drugs and under handed bullshit and moved into a female dominated independent world full of women who want to empower other people (notice I didn’t say other women, truly – people.)

I am finding some peace. I don’t think people are meant to live their lives like it’s a dream. Dreams are misleading, and not everyone achieves theirs. I think people are suppose to find the thing that makes them happy and do it as often as possible in between all of the struggle.

In the words of Buffy – the hardest thing to do in this world, is live in it. I’m doing my best to keep doing that.

Biggigity Switch Where Are They Now?

I started rereading this blog last night. I started from the very beginning and read straight through until now. Wow, am I totally fucked up. I really have a problem with love, men and commitment. I also wish I had posted more to this when I was in the crux of Cancer and living at my father’s. It was a bit of a turbulent time. Reading some of this reopened some of those old wounds. So perhaps a moment to reflect and update.

What ever happened to “Mr. Wonderful”. He was a very hot topic in the early posts of my confessional. Initially I had nick named him The Joker. He had become Mr. Wonderful once a relationship developed. We actually a little bit over the summer thanks to the magic of Facebook. I wouldn’t go as far as to say he is a friend. But we did have a conversation about what happened between us and how things kind of just spontaneously combusted between us. Essentially it boiled down to the pressure of me being so sick so early in our relationship. I think we really felt something for one another. It was a pretty solid relationship for a while there. But I think Mr. Wonderful’s baggage can be a bit self destructive in nature, as is mine. If the Cancer didn’t happen I’m sure we could have easily lasted a few years. I have moments where I seriously miss the conversations and tenderness of our life together. When it was good it was amazing. But when it was bad… it was soul sucking shit. Knowing what I know now about him, sooner or later I would have had issues and left. You can’t have to overly opinionated dominant personalities in a relationship like that. We were very competitive with one another as well. I am a much stronger person than I was then. There would have been a fight, power struggle, argument of some kind to end things. He has gone back to his old habits financially from what I have heard and is unemployed and living with a relative. More proof that I made the right decision.

Where is The Reader now a days? Every once in a blue he pops up on Facebook and sends me some silly message to say hello. He never made any real effort beyond a phone call with me. He was drunk 99% of the time towards the end of our phone chats. I think he may even still be using on occasion, but he would never tell me that. He has had a lot of help with his sex abuse issues, but is now dealing with his finding out about having a form of Autism. He has a lot of demons he is dealing with as well.  Last time we talked he told me he had an interest in an old mutual friend of ours and they dated for a little while. I had a feeling something like that was up. At the time he was talking to me like he didn’t want to get involved with me and he was afraid to tell me why. It was for the best really. I see that 100% now. I have not given him my most recent phone number. But I still keep tabs to make sure he is ok. I now accept that it was ok to let him go. That it was ok to love him for so long. That we are not suppose to be together. But I still have love for him and who we were at one point in time. He was a big one for me. As sad as it makes me to see who he has become in adulthood, I will always want to be around in some capacity.

The Ex, believe it or not he lives around the corner from me now. The girl he “left me for” a year or so ago got pregnant three months into their relationship, but left him when he quit his job and sat around for 7 of the 9 months of her pregnancy.His volatile temper flared and he started threatening her and her family on Facebook. It was like a soap opera that Claudia, Kyle and I could not stop reading. Now he is working again, they have settled arguments for the most part and they are co-parenting well. I had a little bit of a jealousy issue when she got pregnant, I must admit. But seeing everything unfold, I got over it pretty quick. One thing I can’t stand is a violent volatile dude. Super quick turn off. For the most part, he and I are friendly even after our nightmare of a break up. He was just here for dinner with the Smoker and I. We’re all pretty ok with how things ended up.

The Smoker and I are together. He has a car again which is very helpful for us both! He is working part time cleaning offices at night and running errands for his mother’s offices. He’s also still on disability, which looks like it will be permanent for him. So he has an income. That was the big reason for our break up 2 years ago. We have been together for a third time now, it will be a year in February. I have issues, he has issues. We are working on these issues. I can be tough on him. He can be opposing to me. For the most part, we have the past in the past. We have forgiven each other for our mistakes and indiscretions. The Smoker is pretty devoted to me and I him. Our current issues seem to be more about communicating and learning how to do it better with each other. We’re also started to discuss what we want in the next few years. Things feel good. I am working out my commitment issues, or trying to at least. We’re baby stepping our way to something better.

In conclusion, I guess rereading this was helpful. More reason for me to stay alive and keep going. Things are better then they have been in years. My career is making a shift into art and indie business, a huge deal for me. My life is getting closer to where it should be. I am starting to feel like a grown up. (Ok, I still smoke pot, but still, taking care of the rest as well!) Reasons for living. Reminders to myself. A reminder that I am not the vapid sexaholic I started as. I have evolved. Cheers to growth!

Radiation, DONE!

Yesterday was my last radiation treatment. Yay!!!! For some reason I really down played it. I had no idea what to expect going into it. As treatment continued I found myself feeling more rundown and exhausted. I talked to co-workers and friends about it. I talked to other patients about it. I quickly figured out why I had down played it so much. My own naivety. I never researched anything. My oncologist said it will be short and painless. Okay doc, I’ll report for duty!

My treatments were done internally, vaginally. It was humiliating. I am 32 and am a cancer survivor of stage four endometrial cancer. It’s a cancer of the uterus. I am the youngest person ever seen at Yale with this condition. It’s usual senior ladies that get this disease, when sexual activity has ceased. Radiation treatment done in this way causes: vaginal dryness and irritation, tearing, bleeding, itchiness, and it could also burn the area being radiated. Radiation as a whole tends to make you feel real run down and tired. So lump all of those symptoms together, add in a lack of estrogen and you get the chaos that is my body at the moment. Needless to say, I am struggling.

I think the hardest thing I dealt with was the drop in my estrogen. Chemo made all of my hair all over my body fall out. It’s all started growing back. But with my hair shorter then it’s been in years, and all of the weird feelings I started to crack up. I am still having issues with feeling feminine. I am going to speak with a therapist today about it. I started feeling like I was having gender identity issues. my oncologist started me on anti-depressants. They help a bunch, but I need to do the mental work now.

I also took an extreme amount of time off from work. I have been afraid of going back. My co-workers have been wonderfully sweet and sensitive about it. I don’t know why I am so afraid of going back.My boss hired a new girl to fill in whenever he or want time off and to help me take the time out that I need. I was upset at first, but now relieved he’s hired more help. I like the idea of being able to take a weekend off now and then, something I was completely unable to do before.

But the one thing that has really made me feel better has been making things again. I love crafting! I started a new etsy shop and am trying to work up to doing craft shows again. I’ve been making vintage inspired jewelry and knits. It feels so good to design something and see it come to fruition. It’s also been a great way for me to relax and center my emotions and sexual urges since that won’t be happening for some time.

So I guess things will be getting better now that radiation is over! Maybe life won’t be so hard. I am hoping that the side effects don’t always feel like they do today. They could last as long as 2 years. But whose counting, right? I am going to do my best to work through yet another bump in the road. Some days are easier, some are a fight. My oncologist said, just get through the next 4 years. I’m trying. One baby step at a time.

Radiation, DONE! What’s next?

Life On Mars

Where do I begin?

In July I found a new apartment, moved in with the Smoker, and started a new job at a car dealership working, where else, on the internet. The apartment happened to be less then 5 miles from the job. The job happened to have super flexible hours that allows me to work form home when I need to. The Smoker has been unemployed for 6 months and has been the one huge cog in my trying to get my shit together.

Here we are knee deep in November. I have begun radiation treatment. It’s done internally, vaginal. Between this and the hysterectomy I had to have my vagina has narrowed so much that the opening is actually higher up then it used to be. Once the radiation is over I’ll have to have sex therapy and dilation to try and make it comfortable again. This just adds to the embarrassment and difficulty of the situation. I have an infection and suddenly caught some sort of cold virus. So needless to say I am frazzled. I have been working from home and surviving in the bare minimum of my job. I am afraid if things get any worse, I will lose or end up quitting my job. I keep expressing this to the Smoker, who shrugs his shoulders and play more Xbox.

I am heading into a depression. Not only am I pist – my oncologist and I made a plan to avoid radiation, but here I am doing it. I had to start a new medication as a cancer tumor preventative that has been boosting the levels of testosterone in my system. I feel all wrong hormonally. I am carrying more than I can handle and am on the verge of calling my mother and asking to move home. The only thing I can count on the Smoker for is his limited care of me he seems to pull off. Some cooking, a little cleaning, laundry, and he helps me put socks and shoes on since I set off a sciatic nerve flare up in my leg a few weeks ago.

My body is shutting down and fighting me every step of the way. I feel it. I am also diabetic and at this point I can barely afford to keep up with the proper diet and medication.

Bills are piling. I’m supporting 2 people. I am sick and barely keeping up with my personal needs. I am fed up with my life as a whole and feel like a dude. Jesus, when does this nightmare end?