Triumphant

Well, to my surprise, I spent the whole day with Mick yesterday. It was nice. We watched a movie, went out to run a quick errand, ordered pizza and just hung out. He hugged and kissed me nonstop. He also explained more about his past and previous relationships. How he’s dealing with being newly diagnosed as bipolar, and the possibility of having some kind of Cancer. Everything was true. While I was there he was getting phone calls from doctor’s offices and making preparations to be out of work for a few days to deal. He put them on speaker while he looked around for things and I heard everything.

I like Mick. I don’t know what will happen between us, but I like where things are going. I like that he really has been being honest with me. I like how he treated me. Before I left he said he wants to do a real date next time. That he thinks we should talk more often on the phone and see each other more frequently. That he has been bad with communicating with me and my getting angry about it made him realize it.

So we’ll take it slow and see where we end up. Probably doesn’t help that I slept with him twice yesterday. LOL! But you know, my version of slow probably includes sex. So slutever on that.

This Mother Fucker Part 3 : The Return of Mick

So I am Airpodding my way through my sadness. I get a Facebook message from Pathetic Loser. It says I’m Sorry. I ignore it. I get a text from him, it says I’m sorry. Another Facebook message “I overslept and then got upset and I’m sorry.” He keeps messaging me. I finally say Then why do you keep blowing me off?

He starts saying please text me. We need to talk, etc. He apologizes again and again and says he’s so sorry. That all of these things really did happen. That if anything he’s nervous to let me in, which I completely understand. He says he really is having health problems, he really did get called into work and he really did oversleep. So after more apologizing, I agree, I will meet him tomorrow. If he blows me off again, then we are done for real. I will delete him completely from my life. No more chances.

Then he calls me and we talk for close to an hour. Things felt good. I feel like I still have my guard up quite a bit, but it was a pleasant conversation.

So is this the grand gesture and the triumphant return of Mick Jagger? Or is this going to be the heartbreaking return of Pathetic Loser? My heart is beating like a mile a minute right now.

I swear if he blows me off again I’m going to call him and give him a piece of my mind.

What if he doesn’t blow me off? What do I do then? My whole angry tirade was because I really like this guy and I have real feelings developing. If we actually see each other…. I can see a spark fanning into a flame.

This whole thing is just bonkers! Bonkers I tell you!

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.

Babies

The men in my life are dropping one bombshell after another…

Today was the first day I have been back to work in almost 3 weeks. I was so afraid of coming back. I don’t know why. I thought I might get fired for taking off so much time, or doing such a crap job while I was working form home. Or for always needing extra time off. But no. I walked in and everyone cheered and said welcome back. I was given hug after hug and everyone said, it’s ok, we understand, we love you. Co-workers! Do you believe that? So bombshell number one, the good one: My boss, the big one that runs the dealership, came into my office, told me I have complete job security. It was never a question in his mind about keeping me and that I have my job for as long as I want it until I don’t care to work there anymore. I was in shock, I sat there silent. I managed to squeek out, errr, I’m happy to be back!

The second bombshell came from someone I work very, very closely with. A manager who I also consider a friend. His kids are amazing and I adore them. He and I have always had this closeness. We started around the same time. When I told him about my Cancer, he sat with me and told me about how not only did he go through it, but so did his 7 year old son. He listened to me, texted me to see if I was ok. I was told he even fought for me when I wasn’t there, telling everyone that they should all be as tough as me. He came into my office and said I’m really sorry I didn’t call you while you were gone… I had my own medical issue. I said oh no, are you alright? No, he said, they think I have MS… I held my heart. He’s going through a messy divorce, he is the sole income of his family and now there is this. He’s scared. he’s trying to be positive. I hugged him. He got teary eyed and said I love you and thank you for being there. I said I was happy to be around him or the kids anytime. It broke my heart to see him like this. I want to do everything I can to help him.

Bombshell number three came in the form of the Smoker making a decision I did not expect. Never putting too much stock into this possibility as not to break my own heart. When I had my hysterectomy, a fertility doctor froze my ovaries. Yale has done an experimental procedure that has been able to produce 2 eggs in ten patients they have done this with. So my frozen O’s have a 20% of creating part of life. Smoker said he hated kids, didn’t want them. So in desperation I went to my Ex. We had been engaged for 5 years. One of our biggest issues was the inability to have kids. He’s very excited about the possibility and can help me cover the $8,000 fee. So of course now that things are in the works, The Smoker suddenly says he wants to father any potential babies. But he has no job, no future and never wanted them before. So I have a lot of decisions.

The last bombshell involves ore sickness. My step grandfather, who we call Pop, is very ill. His second kidney has gone and he is now in dialysis 3 times a week, every week, for the rest of his life. He looks thin, his hair is gone. He is a stubborn old Italian man and I fear he will end his own life by giving up and deciding not to go anymore. It’s like sickness surrounds me. He is 82, and has always been in rough shape. But I still hope he is ok. He is very sweet and has always seen me and my sisters as his grandchildren no matter what.

I’m slowly getting back to as close to normal as I can. Dealing with all of this joy and sadness. I want to be there for these people like they have been there for me…

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?

Where Do We Go From Here?

I’m sitting in my apartment trying to figure things out. I’m stressing big over money and work. I am beside myself on what to do.

I’ve thought over and over again to myself, maybe I should try and start making and selling things again. I have developed this new style to everything I have been making. But I seem to have zero self confidence in anything I create or do these days. So I keep toying with this idea as an outlet and a good way to get some more income. Then I sabotage it.

As I was writing this, my friend Meg commented my previous post. My dealing with the loss of femininity. How no one is addressing or dealing and it must be such a huge loss. It is. And I am struggling to cope. My vagina has been through Hell. Sex will be painful. The chemo has shrunk my breasts down a size and they have become these sad flacid things. My hair is very short and I don’t know how much it will grow back. My figure is disgusting, my hysterectomy has left me with a huge fat top rolled stomache. I look like a gender confused middle aged woman. I feel like a guy. Man, woman, whatever – I am still miserable. Too much feelings in the middle. Not enough one way or the other. I feel like a big neutered freak.

For some who is so ruled by sex and sensuality, this is like a fucking nightmare. Everything I liked about my body is gone. My hormones are confusing. I don’t feel correct. What’s worse, I am having a really hard time functioning now and it’s like no one understands. I don’t know what I need. But all of thise new medical crap is making it so much worse. I thought I was done with feeling sick. I don’t want any of this anymore.

Every morning I wake up and the first thing I feel is some kind of pain. Then anxiety. It makes me feel like what did I fight so hard for? I have nothing left I can enjoy! I can’t have sex,  and when I can it will be painful. I can’t look attractive, I can’t eat food I like because it fucks up my blood sugar and causes too many infections. I can’t take drugs because of the side effects. I feel I have no future, marriage and children are very much so out of the question. Not many of my friends and family are as supportive as they once were. I can’t even enjoy the money I make because I am barely staying afloat, with back bills, medicine and rent and shit. The only thing I get to do that makes me happy is I occasionally get to go to a casino and stare at the slots and gamble. Even that is very limited because of money. I wanted to travel after all this, but I can’t! Money and medicine prohibit that too. Chemo seemed easy compared to the aftermath. Now what the fuck do I do?

I would never wish this experience on anyone. The cancer I went through is meant for little old ladies winding down at the end of their lives. I am one of few cases who had the rare privelege of going through it at 31-32. It’s truly ruined my life. I felt grateful to be alive and happy just a month ago. Now I wish I felt nothing.

Related articles

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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?

My Father Should Die Penniless and Alone

Harsh words, I know.

I haven’t written here in a long long time. Please allow me to do a brief rundown of what life has been since I last posted. Mr. Wonderful turned out to be rather lazy in love and became Mr. It’s All About Me. I realized it was the end when on the eve of my nerve wracking pre hysterectomy surgery appointment, he came home crying like a little bitch about some guy he worked with posting an internet video of basicly him stealing food from this little snack shop in the building he worked in. He said he always paid after the fact when he had money and that his reputation had been soiled. But between you and I dear readers, that’s kind of a crock. He had confessed to me on numerous occassions that he liked to steal. Especially when he felt like he was sticking it to the man. I spent my night comforting him. I dealt with my shit pretty much alone and terrified.  He made no effort to be there for me emotionally. He made no effort to try and refresh our relationship. So I grieved, shut down, and then I left him for The Smoker.

The Smoker and I have had some serious ups and downs. He left me, I left him. We fought, we fucked, we fought some more. He went through a drug problem where he was with another girl. I left him and contemplated the very value of my life. In the end we came together and realized we loved each other, always had. We worked through most of our demons. I have to admit, jealousy comes into play now and then, but we are very solid. I realized I had been fighting being with him for so long that I was really just ignoring what I knew was right. I have always feared comittment. Running from relationship to relationship has been my way of dive bombing and sabotaging marriage.

So when Mr. Lazy and I split, I moved back to my father’s. Huge mistake! My father and I have had a lot of issues as long as I can remember beginning with me not knowing him until I was 16. Now that I am 31 I can see everything clearly. My father is just that, sperm donor. He is out for himself and no one else. He taughts being this good christian who prays and loves and does not judge, while he and his bitch wife sit there and judge everyone with their rigid ideas and greedy lifestyle.

All week long something has felt amiss. I over heard that bitch cunt step mother of mine saying horrible things about me. I fought goign on disability when I’d had cancer. It wasn’t until January that I even applied. I received compensation in April for my stage 4 severe Cancer in 3 places. I have had it for almost 3 months. My chemo ended last week and I am looking for a new job and apartment.I saved as much money as I could when it did come through. She told her friends what a bum and loser I am. That I’ll be sponging off the government for life. That I wasn’t that sick. That I was just like my down and out sister Tree.

I confronted my father in a respectful quiet manner. I said I knew what she said and that I thought it was a little hars. He disagreed, said I was a baby 32 (I’m 31) goign on 10. That i wasn’t that sick and could have worked (I tried, it was too difficult as I was sick all the time, besides many places were and are still reluctant to hire me because of the C word.) That I would never get my life together and I’d be 50 years old living off disability. That i have never worked a day in my life and haven’t held a real job in 7 years (i ran asmall business form 2008 – 2010 when I got sick. Towards the last year i only made $5000 because I was too sick. I worked 2 jobs and paid the bill for 3 people on my own before that.) That I was a no good loser. He hates me, my friends and my lifestyle. That I am a pig and make him sick. (apparently he had to “clean” my room for me because I don’t know how to use the giant machine he has to wax the floors. oh and I change my bed sheets once a month.) That he has no faith in me and  will never amount to anything. That I will never get anything in life because my mother and grandmother spoiled (that one was real weird. I don’t know how that could even be possible when I grew up poor. Oh and he wouldn’t know because in 31 years I’ve actually only known and seen him for about 5.) And my favorite part besides him leaving me to pack my shit and get out less than a week after finishing chemo, was him saying I’m not a good person, that good people don’t mean shit and that he has zero faith in me as a human being. I’m lazy and I spend my life floating around doing nothing sponging off of any man who will come my way.

Dear Dad,

I hope you get Cancer and then tell me how energetic you feel. I hope you throw up every single day like I did. I hope all your friends and family slowly disappear. I hope someone yells at you to get a job because you got sick and needed a nap. I hope the day after your blood transfusion someone treats you like shit and does not let you heal from any kind of surgery. I hope that you lose your wife, family and money that is so so precious to you. I hope your credit goes to Hell and you have no choice but to stay on unemployment now that you have lost your job. I hope every bad thing you’ve done and lie you’ve told comes back to you. I hope you lose everything. Maybe then you will learn to stop hiding behind your “christian faith” and TRULY be a non-judgemental humble man and a true man of God. I hope that when I am done packing my things and walk out of your life, this time for good, that your God strikes you down in some way so that you can feel the pain you’ve put on me, and your other 3 girls who you constantly tear down. You are not a real man. You are not a real Christian. You are not a father.Thank you for showing me I truly was better off without you all along. You were a junkie when I was a baby, a drunk when I was a teen, and then a junkie a second time – where does the righteousness come from when you have so much to answer for yourself. I hope it feels good to throw a sick kid in the street. Die penniless and alone and we’ll be even,

In hatred,

Your Daughter, you know the first one from when you were like 16? yeah that one.

If you are so busy judging when do you have time to love?

The Other Side of Midnight

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It’s almost 2:00 in the morning. It’s pouring rain outside. I’m sitting here watching Celebrity Rehab OnDemand and high on pain killers. I was thinking about triggers. I spent the entire day today sober. I spent most of the weekend sober. Mr. Wonderful’s kids were here all weekend, and through out most of it even during the few annoyances, things were great. We felt like a family. But several things hit me and I started sorting out my pain.

Mr. Wonderful and I have been on shakey ground since we moved in together. We’ve had two fights that really damaged my view of him and our relationship. Mr. W, whether he admits it or not, has some serious anger management issues he needs to work on. Apparently his temper use to be a lot worse than it is now. That scares the HELL out of me. but he is the type of guy that will say what he wants to and doesn’t really give a fuck who it hurts. He does this with everyone including the people closest to him. He can sometimes insist that things go the way he thinks they should without thinking about the consequences of his actions.  His relentlessness can be down right confrontational. I, however, can be incredibly stubborn and when i feel something is wrong, unfair or hypocritical can refuse to back down. Get us together on opposite ends of a spectrum and all Hell breaks loose.

Unfortunately, as much as I love Mr. W I am finding we can be poisonous to one another at times. When it comes to triggers for me using drugs, he can be one of them. I’m on pain killers right now because of something he’d said tonight that hurt me… deeper than I’d care to admit. I love him so much. I think that’s part of the problem. Sexually I want and crave him most of the time. He can’t keep up with how much I want from him and seems kind of warn out by me. It hurts me that he doesn’t need me as much as I need him. In fact I think he gets down right annoyed by how much I want from him. He’s actually said he hopes I find a woman to fool around with to take some of the pressure off of him. This was my trigger tonight. It hurts. I want him to need me, love me, want me more than anyone he’s ever known. That’s how I feel for him. So it makes me want to leave or hurt him back some how. There’s always someone in the relationship who loves more than the other. It’s usually me. This time I know it’s me.

We got into a fight so bad during the week that all I could think of was “fuck you, I don’t need you, I don’t need to be screamed at like this, I’ll leave you.”  And I was certain I was going to leave him. I was determined to get out now before it gets worse. But then the kids came. And my heart just broke. They may be the closest thing I have to kids of my own. If I leave him, I leave them too. It hurt. It felt like the carrot dangling in front of me that I chase after.

At this point right now I can say yes I am a drug addict My drug of choice changes depending on what is at my disposal. Most of the time it’s pot. At least it has been over the years. Pot has always been something I can pick up or put down and not really get too crazy about it. Especially these days. My BIG problem lately is with vicodin and ativan. And when none of these are available to me I turn to alcohol and mix them with ibuprofin and acetominophin to get a pain killer effect.

The other huge trigger for me has been my cancer and all of the drama that has come from it. The worse things get the more drugs I want. I’m scared I’ll die before I get the chance to do anything good with my life. I feel like I’m wasting time. I feel let down by a lot of people close to me, and I have been terribly lonely. I have reached out to a lot of people I have loved over the years and been let down by some of them. Some I am too afraid to just call and say this is what I need to tell you… I am at a stand still.

I don’t know what else I can say. Things are tough right now. I am hanging on to hope. I am trying to get through as best I can. I plan on picking up some books and trying to work through a lot of my personal issues. I also plan on getting help for my emotional and physical state once all of my medical issues are over and done. My hysterectomy is at the end of the month, I want to get through that and then deal with my addiction head on. I know I won’t be able to do it until then, as I know I’ll have even more prescriptions coming and a lot of legit pain. One thing at a time.

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So Now What?

I didn’t think it was possible to fuck up being terminally ill. But I did. Having Cancer has taken over so much of my life and sense of self that I find myself just being annoyed by the WORD. There has got to be more to it than this.

I talk about it so much. I talk about it almost from the moment I get up to the moment I go to sleep. With friends, family, fucking strangers. I am so tired of hearing about it and thinking about it! I talk about it so much that I am beating my solid relationship into the ground and turning it into another one of my self absorbed loath fests. It’s all anyone asks me about. So it’s all I talk about.

Actually no, the only OTHER thing I seem to talk about is my sister Rose. This 11 year old girl that is so much like me it’s frightening has completely taken over most of my days. It’s so obnoxious that all I can do to feel normal is relate to my little sister. She doesn’t give a shit if I have Cancer. Only that I pay attention to her and let her cry when she feels put upon by her fellow middle schoolers. I don’t have much grown up time these days. But with as boring and ridiculous as I have become, I guess it doesn’t really matter.

I talk to Mr. Wonderful all of the time. Constantly missing him, wanting him close. But there is this new strain there now. I don’t know if we can go back to the way we were before I got sick. I feel myself bored to pieces when we talk. Stressing over something to say to him. Tired of the constant complaints I lay on him. I know I must be stressing him out. I stress myself out. In my head I’m just saying SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY! BOR-ING! But the fact of the matter is I have nothing new to discuss. I have no insight into anything useful. I am turning into one of those sad women I see during chemo. No sex life, no friends left, no one wants to hear it anymore.

And THAT is another ball of wax! NO SEX LIFE! NONE! It wasn’t all that long ago when Mr. W and I couldn’t get enough of each other. It took sometime to get into the swing of things with each other. Once we did the time we had was so short lived! My self esteem has been kind of shot, but I have been aching to have some of that passion back! I am hoping that I can get myself to feel comfortable in my own skin again and attempt to have some kind of passionate moment with Mr. Wonderful.

Technically the doctor had told me no sexual intercourse. It was actually on my discharge slip from my oncologist. But what I am learning is that that is not necessarily permanent. That as things change with chemo, so will things I can do. I am fairly confident that I am at a point where sex will be pleasurable again.

I am kind of fearful of what will happen. Not for the actual physical act of making love with Mr. W, I’m looking forward to that! But I’m fearful of well, me. Being in the right mind set. Feeling sexy and confident.  I think my biggest fear is that I will muster up the enthusiasm, the confidence and the physical feelings and Mr. Wonderful won’t be interested. Then I will die inside and probably just write off sex for the next 5 months of my treatment. It’s the vulnerability that gets to me. I’m smaller, I’m bald and who wants to fuck the sick girl. Ugh.

So I’m hoping this weekend away at Mr. W’s place will help remind me who I am, and who I was before all of this started. If not – well then I guess maybe I will need to look up the name of a counselor.