I feel like I should try to write them.
Things have just been going wonky lately. I know this is a sobriety blog but sobriety is not really my concern right now. Though, overall, I feel better when I completely abstain from alcohol, and on most days, do. I’ll admit to having had the glass of wine or two, here or there, but it really hasn’t been a thing.
The events, emotions, and challenges I’m dealing with are occurring regardless.
I don’t know how to describe it except, I feel like I’m going through one of those periods of my life where things go wrong.
I feel kind of like how I did in the last couple years of undergrad when I had a string of bad relationships, tons of emotional pain from my past come up, and then I was dx’d with cancer. I feel like I’m on an unlucky streak. And it feels wrong.
It feels wrong because for the past few years, I’ve been on a lucky streak. Things went so good for me, and it felt so right. It was like, “Yes, this is how things are supposed to go!” I met an amazing man who fell completely in love with me, gave birth to an adorable, strawberry blonde haired baby with the world’s best disposition, worked out a parenting agreement that made sense & made peace with the previously angry and hostile ex husband, started working in real estate and making more money than I had ever imagined making, etc.
I’m going to try to make this concise, but here is a rundown of how things have been going lately. Planned to have an uplifting surgery for my breasts- was supposed to be empowering and a fun, happy thing. Came down with the worst cold I’ve had in years about 5 days prior to the date after putting down thousands of dollars for the surgery. Anesthesioloigists learn about prior chemo induced medical challenge from 10+ years ago and want pulmonary clearance. No pulmonologist in network, went to a friend’s husband. He insists on a chest xray and breathing test. Breathing test fine. Chest x-ray had to go all around town to finally find some place to do it, meanwhile my oldest is leaving the same day for Turkey. She’s at home with my mom.
I’m crying in the waiting room because I’m sick, frustrated, and feeling anxious and sad about the fact that I’m not with her right now. They finally get me in for the chest x-ray and the tech asks me to take a look. The residual mass from the tumor is in there, looking all spotty and sad looking. I know about that. “Does it look the same?” She asks me. I told her, “I think so.” But I don’t know. I don’t look at my records if I don’t have to. I put it in the past and shut the door. I go to my appointments. I get my labs done. If my radiation oncologist is satisfied, I am satisfied and I go about my life.
However, pulmonologist said it looks different from an xray you had two years ago. You really need a CT scan. At the morning on which he tells me this (the day before I was supposed to have surgery), I have been up all night because I took Mucinex DM which made me incredibly anxious and gave me insomnia. I’m already feeling like I’m ready to crawl out of my skin, just incredibly psychologically uncomfortable. Then he tells me my tumor looks “different.” I was scared to ask “how.” So, I didn’t.
I got an appointment for a CT scan as soon as I could, which was 5 days later, on Friday. He obviously did not clear me for surgery. I canceled my surgery. Graciously, the plastic surgeon gave me all of my money back. Then I experienced the most emotion and anxiety I have felt in long time for the next 5 days, during which I could hardly eat, struggled to sleep, and went through cycles of surrender, responsibility, breaking down, being terrified, etc. I did everything I was supposed to do. But I was a wreck.
During this time, a client that we had been courting for the listing of their oceanfront condo (the one that stood me up on our listing appt on Mother’s Day) texted to let me know they had gone with a Realtor friend. Nothing personal. It was hardly a blip on my radar. But fuck.
Gratefully, the CT scan showed no significant change. Just further calcification, which is normal.
But that week really messed with my head. And the window of opportunity to improve my features just slammed shut. It was really planned out for the timing to work out just a certain way. Now, with a lack of deals, kids at home, and my mixed feelings, it’s just forget it for right now. The week went beyond feeling of superficial insecurity to insecurity about my mortality and the mortality of those I love.
The following week I felt really depressed. And hungry. I had lost about 5 pounds. I indulged in some deserts and chips and things. I just felt kind of lost. And not myself.
I even talked to a Teledoc and started taking a small dose of an anti-depressant. That lasted for a few days. But it made me feel way too weird (super spacey, sleepy, and hypnic jerks) and when I told the doc my side effects he said to stop taking it. So I went to see a natural doctor who has recommended some natural herbs and I am using those.
I’m honestly doing basically okay. But I’m really trying to get back into the mindset that everything isn’t out to get me. The bad luck streak mentality. Things are challenging right now, that is all.
Husband is dealing with stressful, unpleasant things at work and hating it right now. Older daughter is home, which I am so grateful and relieved about, however, she is eight, stubborn, quirky, hard-headed, and challenging. When she and the four year old are together it’s tough. It’s just tough. Getting the eight year old to do things is tough. Simple things like brushing her teeth, changing her clothes, showering, not picking on her little sister. She doesn’t recognize it when she is out of line.
Summers are always interesting. I’m reminded of my very first summer in Florida, after moving from New York. Hanging out my little sister (who reminds me very much of my older daughter). She was tough to get along with. She had a personality like my oldest. I got my feelings hurt a lot. It was so hot outside. Our parents were busy with other things. There was no school. We basically stayed inside and passed the hours playing Super Nintendo, reading, etc. I tried to play the piano but my sister would turn up “The Price is Right” on the TV louder and louder until I stopped.
Except now, I’m thirty-seven with little gray-white hairs popping up amongst the brown ones, boobs that I wish were higher, amazing children that both keep me on my toes and make me want to sleep all day, a best friend who is also my husband who I’m longing to make happy memories with and enjoy the good times of our early relationship again, and a world that feels untrustworthy and dangerous. Covid, the vaccines, the depleting resources, species going extinct, the will to power.
Whew! Somehow, getting that out in writing has helped a bit. I’ve been meaning to do it for a while. I’m glad I finally sat down and did it today. I don’t expect a response. I realize I have not kept up with anyone else. I’m sorry!
PS: I promise to write something optimistic and encouraging next time! I can do that.