I am – part deux

Someone, I’m not sure who (because I am too lazy to look) commented that I should do a 2nd I am post after my first but I haven’t had anything more to add – until now. You might have noticed I haven’t said much of anything lately. Here’s why:

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you…..I AM – the bitchy cancer patient edition

I am tired. I am worn out. I am needing to type.

I am surrounded by people who love me but I am alone in my battle. In my darkest hours, I am alone. I am stuck in the quiet and afraid to admit how much I wish I could stop taking this drug for fear of jinxing myself and causing it to stop working.

I am afraid it will keep working.

I am always nauseous and my muscles are gone. I am afraid to leave the house for fear of not being near a bathroom.

I am sad.

I used to be proud of my long hair. Now, I am embarrassed to show the short curls. To let the thin spots show. I am not happy that this is how I look now. I am the mad photo deleter. I am a fan of digital cameras.

I am ashamed for not being grateful for my life every single day. For feeling sorry for myself and for whining. I am reminded how this could end when someone on the support group site dies. I do not want that.

I am not doing as well as I’d like you to think.

I am worried the people I love will find this blog and feel betrayed by my lie of omission. I am aware that  if they do, I will never write with this level of honesty again.

If you have, I am sorry. Sorry for not having the strength to tell you my thoughts to your face. I am hoping never to hurt you with my words.

But for now you haven’t and I am grateful.

And I am so so very tired. Of it all.

I am wishing I’d appreciated the healthy days. I am wishing I could be the energetic, patient parent my children deserve. I  am wishing to feel good again.

I am sore and crampy and weak. I am not fond of the mirror because I can see I am aging quickly. This is not who I wanted to be.

I am wondering why the muscle loss caused my thighs to migrate down around my knees. I am avoiding shorts.

I am frustrated with myself for my moods. I am not as thankful for this treatment as I should be.  I am a lover of hot baths and long hot showers but now they hurt my hands and feet so I have to avoid them.

I am pissed.

I am tired and I am pissed. Those are 2 things I know.

I am pissed. Pissed I am. I do not like green eggs and ham.

I am aware of SG listening to me type and know he is wondering what I am telling you. I am sorry for what I am doing to his life. I am so glad to have found him but so guilty for turning his life upside down with my cancer.

I am sad that I am again writing about a cancer funk.

I am sorry.

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10 thoughts on “I am – part deux

  1. love and hugs as always my friend. I like that you wrote this – not happy that you feel this way but glad you let yourself admit it. You can’t bottle it up forever without something breaking. Cancer sucks!

  2. You have every right in the world to be f**king pissed off. Don’t ignore that part of you. I do wish you weren’t having to suffer from the side effects of the drugs. I’m sure you must have a love/hate relationship with them. They are keeping you alive but at the same time they are making you feel like shit. For that I am sorry.

    By the way, while you did have a fabulous head of hair, I never loved you for your hair. And, at 43, my body is aging too. I don’t recognize the backs of my hands any more, I need some serious botox injections in my face, and when I run, I look down and see wrinkly, jiggly thighs. And, even though I’m not on cancer drugs, my hair is falling out too. I just went in a couple of weeks ago and got it really chopped to compensate.

    I know my signs of aging aren’t in any way comparable to the physical changes the drugs are putting you through, hon…

    Keep on keepin’ it real and rage all you want. We’re here to listen.

  3. Please….do not be sorry, you can feel anyway you want to feel. You have the right. I don’t think any of us who have cancer pull the wool over our loved ones eyes. They know. They just don’t want us to know they know (if that makes sense) No advice, just try to go forward.

  4. Oh, I wish I had a thing to say that would take some of your hours of pain away. I agree with what’s been said: it’s not your JOB to be thankful all the time. It’s not your JOB to love every minute of a life that can be painful and punitive and so, so unfair. Sure, I want you to have joy, because you deserve it–but I think that nobody who loves you could possibly begrudge you sadness, because being sick when you know what being well feels like is lonely and tiresome and wrong. I hope you give yourself permission to feel whatever you feel, and that doing so brings you some kind of relief. And I hope somehow, your life gets better, less painful, and knowing that you’re read here and understood and accepted and cared for helps…somehow.

  5. You are loved and supported….always. I will read, listen and be here to vent whenever you need. (Even when you don’t need me.) Hugs to you….

  6. I hate that feeling of not being able to control what is happening to me……. and ..

    I wish I had a better reason than you.. for not being the the person I wanted to be…

    then I think.. we all want to change what we don’t like about ourselves…..

    I always feel better after venting…. I hope you feel better, too!

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