Sunday, April 04, 2010

Dear blogger

Why don't you have an iPhone app?

I was in mid thought on my previous post and bumped "send" up in the
top of the screen. Annoying. I can't fix the post in my phone's
browser for some reason.

Hmm, is this going to be one of those days?

I was going to talk about my solo, last night at church, so I guess I
will still do that ... It starts off "God indeed is my saviour, I am
confident and unafraid" and I only wish that were true. The parts
about me, that is.

I wanted it to be a little battle won, and it was. I hoped all day I'd
have the energy to dress up, and make it up that winding staircase. I
got there.

I asked my friend Scott to watch over me lest I pass out and make a
silly fool of myself. Stanley transposed my notes down two full steps,
so I think it sounded nice. I didn't see many familiar faces down
below but the vigil mass is long and late...

So it was not a movie scene sort of triumph where everyone wipes away
tears about how cancer girl sings like an angel and she's plucky and
brave and yada yada. But it was a bit of normal during a time when
everything is depressingly NOT normal and so I am content with that.

It helps when my friends cheer me on with Facebook comments or notes.
But I'm not brave. I'm cornered, I'm resigned, I'm frustrated and
discouraged. I would really like to just go sit at the beach
somewhere, have a few daquiris, and hide from all this shit.

I am trying to pull myself through this emotional valley, knowing that
I'm not sleeping and I will feel better next week. But I resent the
thought that if I were in my old job I could be on paid disability and
just resting, not trying to pull myself together to earn some money.

Right now I'm counting things I can't do and not really seeing plans/
events to look forward to. Can't go for a run or even a walk on a nice
day. No energy to do that or take my daughter out for some badly
needed new spring clothes. Very frustrating.

So I want this post to be upbeat and serene and happy, but I would be
faking it. I guess for now, this is where I am and I must learn a
patience I don't have.

There is an unresolved melody here somehow, because I'm trying to end
with '...but I'm fine'. The hardest thing about this is NOT being fine
and being okay with not being fine for a while.

3 comments:

Trish said...

darlin', you're pretty normal. despite what it may feel like to you, you're pretty normal. there are parts about this that just suck big rotten 3 year old easter eggs that you just found and are rather odoriferous. there are parts you get to giggle thru, but sometimes, those are hard to see from where you're standing right now.

hang in there. yell all you want. throw a hissy fit if you want. sleep and rest your soul. ask the doc for meds to sleep thru the night if you can because, coping while not sleeping AND while feeling like shit, is tough.

if you can find a friend who can take you for a drive, stick your head out the window---it's like walking or running, but with less effort.

know that you've got people here for you. know that you are loved.

hugz!

ok, wv: honeysin...I'm SO not touching that one!

meopta said...

You're brave just for showing up. That's the whole brave bullshit. Brave ain't stupid, it's not nothing scares me, brave is knowing it's going to suck, knowing you could run away and pretend, but putting your grown up pants on and doing it anyway.

HALF DONE, BITCHES.

That's what I'm saying. Half done. Two more of these and that's the rear view mirror for chemo.

onescrappychick said...

I don't think I could say it any better than Poly did. I wish I lived closer so I could take B shopping.. I could use some new spring clothes also. Every day since your chemo started that I have had a scheduled run (I run tu, thur and sun normally, but it switches up sometimes) that I don't want to go on.. I kick my butt out the door and run for you, because you can't. You are my hero. ((hugs))