My two lives

A good cry is usually therapeutic. Not tonight. I’ve been completely miserable all day. I can’t even describe how I feel. I’ve kept everything bottled up inside and worked so hard to show a positive face. Today is all just crumbled away and I wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and pull the covers up over my head.

I keep saying that I’m lucky this isn’t more serious, and grateful for all the love and support, but today I’m not in the mood to recognize lucky or grateful. I’m angry that I have to go through all of this.

Tonight I just need to be by myself and feel sorry for myself. I just want to be able to spend some time being angry at whatever it is that caused my cancer. Is it in my genes? Something I did? Something I didn’t do? Who can I blame?

It might be a little easier if there was something I could blame, but I don’t know whether a something exists. I think I’m just going to have to accept the fact that life is the way it is. And I don’t want to do that, I don’t want to accept anything.

I’m tired of being upbeat and nice and positive. I want to call the shots, have things go my way, on my terms, on my schedule. I don’t want to wait for any more test results or wait for doctors to keep our appointments, or to be told what someone else decides is going to happen next.

This is my “I’m feeling sorry for myself” night. Tomorrow I’ll go back to being what everyone else thinks I am, positive and strong. I’ll put everything else first and bury myself in the rest of my life all again, and some day down the road it will all boil over again and I’ll sob myself into another pounding headache.