My life is awesome.
I’m working out, doing a lot of yoga, lifting weights, serious weights, doing bench presses and barbell squats. I quit running because my knee started acting up, but I walk a lot.
I feel very healthy and pretty happy. Sometimes I don’t feel so awesome, but I’m doing really well at keeping an attitude of gratitude (I kind of hate that phrase because it rhymes and it’s kind of a cliché, but whatever).
It’s good to be me.
Because the amount of things I want to say are overwhelming. But it’s all good. Great, actually.
Here’s an interesting link: http://blog.stupidcancer.com/2012/03/16/underreported-side-effect-of-cancer-vulnerability/
Last night I saw my ex-boyfriend at a coffee shop. He treated me in ways that I would never treat another human being, and I let him because I was drunk and fucked up in the head. Now that I’m sober and saner, I don’t ever want to talk to him, or really even see him, again.
I was nervous about even going to that coffee shop because I know he’s there a lot. I was sort of near him when I ordered my coffee, so I wondered if he heard my voice and knew I was there.
So then I sat down on the way other side of the coffee shop, facing him. I didn’t want to face him, because I didn’t want to look at him and think about him, but I didn’t want to face away from him because if he came up to me, I wanted to be able to see him coming. I didn’t want him to come up behind me and touch me, and start acting all friendly. I wanted to be able to see him coming so that I could give him a nonverbal that indicated ‘stay away,’ or so that if he did approach me I could say “I have nothing to say to you.”
I had to think about that. I fantasized about saying “you’re the most disgusting human being I’ve ever met” or “how can you live with yourself?” or “you’re not fooling me. I know who you are.” or all sorts of much meaner things. But I decided if he approached me, I would just say “I have nothing to say to you.”
I had wanted to read, but I was too distracted. Fortunately I saw someone I knew, so we chatted.
My ex-boyfriend never got up or turned around, so I don’t know if he knew I was there. But it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I saw him, and I stayed calm, and focused on my thoughts.
I had a nightmare about him and other untrustworthy men I know. I didn’t realize that running into him had affected me so much until I got up and thought about my dream. Part of the dream involved people ignoring me and my voice was silenced. I need to think about that a bit. I sort of understand that, but not really.
I was going to end this post by writing about some of the positive changes in my life, but I don’t feel like it anymore, and I kind of forgot what I was going to say. But I will say I’m having a unexpectedly good day today.
The TV show “Louie.” It’s so honest.
My bike rack and my bright orange milk crate that says “thou shalt not steal” on the side.
Chocolate soymilk.
Meditation, particularly today’s meditation.
Heartfelt sharing during 12 step meetings.
When my cat positions himself so that I’m spooning him.
My new psych meds.
Yoga!!!!
Seeing myself getting stronger at yoga poses- being able to do standing split at >90 degrees, and being able to transition from chaturanga to up dog without laying down.
Kix.
Freedom, in all of it’s forms.
Gratitude.
Bootie shorts.
Kindness.
It has come to my attention lately that I am PISSED!
I’ve been in denial about how incredibly angry I am, and now I’m aware. I don’t like it. But it does explain why I’m so negative all the time. I frequently have to turn my thoughts around from negative and hateful to positive.
Side note about denial: I can recognize it now. I’ll have a reaction that makes me cry, and I try to understand why I’m crying, but I have absolutely no thoughts about it. I try to think, but I just get a sense of a brick wall. It’s odd.
I try very hard to be positive, but then I’ll seek out things that I know will piss me off. I’m reading Reflections on a Mountain Lake right now, and the author mentions how sometimes we want to find just reasons for our anger, so that we can be righteously angry… I think I do that.
The biggest reason I’m pissed off is that I went though cancer treatment alone. That makes me so incredibly sad, and angry.
Let me just say, I am very thankful for Julia and Lysa letting me stay with them rent-free. I know I was no picnic to be around. And I’m so thankful for Jamie taking me out, busting me out of the Hope Lodge during my radiation vacation… And all the other ways that my friends were kind during this time.
Emotions are not right or wrong, they just ARE.
I’m angry because I went to chemo alone. I went to radiation alone. Once I returned to home from California (I am so thankful for Chris and Joan!), I went to all of my doctor’s appointments alone. My friends made it very clear they didn’t want to talk about my cancer treatment, or my emotions regarding treatment.
I went through the worst experience of my life with no one to talk to about it. That makes me so incredibly sad.
It feels good to get this off my chest. very cathartic. Now that I’m sober and saner, I have the awareness and tools to deal with my emotions. And for that, I am infinitely grateful.
…is bigger than my left breast. As I lose weight my left breast is getting smaller, but my right breast remains the same size.
Interesting.
Lately I have been thinking a lot about ‘reality.’
What the heck IS reality? And how is my reality different than yours?
This morning, when I stepped outside, I stopped and thought “what the fuck is all this?” The snow, the cars, the buildings. It’s all so odd.
Reality is subjective. I really, truly understand that now. I do keep banging my head against the wall, trying to get people to understand and validate my reality. But 1) many people don’t care to think about this/don’t get why the hell it’s so important to me right now; 2) I can’t make people understand my reality…. I just CAN’T, and that is the nature of subjective reality 3) me talking about this makes me sound coocoo bananas, and alienates people, when what I really want to do is try to connect.
I am sort of tripped out because TVs and cars and whatnot are made out of dirt… essentially. THAT’S WEIRD. That’s so weird that it’s just plain fanciful, for pete’s sake. We’re flitting around on this planet, eating dirt, wearing dirt, giving birth to more dirt, playing with magical distractions made of dirt…. essentially.
Hmmmm.
So… I think that explains why I’ve been extra mentally ill the last two months. HORMONES MAKE SHE-HULK MAD!
From http://health.msn.com/health-topics/menopause/slideshow.aspx?cp-documentid=100269446&imageindex=3
“Women with past depression are five to ten times more likely to suffer depression in perimenopause, Novosolov says. Miller found some relief with antidepressants. Most women don’t get depressed, but they might notice significantly worse mood swings. “My PMS is magnified times 100,” says Lori McManus, 43, of Bloomington, Minn., who first noticed symptoms about two years ago. And some, like Osterman, just become uncomfortable in their own skin. “I was miserable with myself a lot of the time with no reason.””
Me to a T. Depressed and antsypantsy. The article also mentions anxiety increasing. My anxiety has been just awful lately, which was odd, because I don’t generally have a problem with anxiety.
I couldn’t find any information about mood swings related to when you restart your period… but I feel a little better (and saner) knowing all this.
…more of the same stupid shit (says depressed me).
…a new, glorious day; a second chance to make better choices (says coming-around-the-bend me).
…beautiful and full of love (says a-bit-too-happy me).
…the same; there is only one day (says philosophical me).
…an adventure (says optimistic me).
… which is ok, with me, I guess. I called my doctor’s office to ask them about it, and they seemed very concerned about it, so I guess in that respect it is also a good thing that I didn’t get it.
Very mood swingy this last week or two…
I had been feeling pretty shitastic, then I felt WONDERFUL, and then past shitastic all the way to so fucked up and numb that I almost felt good and comfortable with myself again.
My weird rib pain is gone. I’m relieved about that. I’m imagining new breast lumps, though.
Life is exhausting, mildly amusing, confounding.
Um. So, I finished cancer treatment while drinking and drugging steadily throughout, and then was drunk basically all the time for a month, then tried to kill myself three times in one day, then went to rehab for drugs and alcohol, then was homeless for awhile. Then things started stabilizing.
I started the year A. COT. DAMN. MESS. I spent New Years Eve 2010 at a concert drunk as shit talking to anyone who would listen about the fact that I had cancer. I spent the weekend at a friend’s house, and whined about having cancer so much that she started passive-aggressively making fun of me for whining about having cancer. And I was so fucked up in the head that first, I didn’t even GET that she was making fun of me, and then once I finally did, I had no sense of how to handle it. Granted, that’s really not a nice thing to do, to make fun of someone struggling to accept their illness, but my point is- I was FUCKED UP.
I finished the year in my own apartment! I work on not taking my apartment for granted, but sometimes I forget… I’ve been sober for over nine months! I frequently struggle with my mental health issues, but I ALWAYS swing back up, and when I do, I feel so intensely grateful.
I am stunned by my gratitude. It’s a new emotion for me. I used to be very entitled. I enjoy my gratitude immensely.
I found love, honesty, and hope this year. I discovered that i have depth and awareness that I… can’t find the depth of. I enjoy going inward and seeing what’s in there, even though sometimes it BLOWS massively. I just went through something tough, but I made it. It’s like hitting a wall and having no choice but to be slammed against it repeatedly until eventually when you hit it you break through it. It fucking hurts but god, when I make it through, I feel like I can do anything.
I have spent the last nine months watching myself grow into someone absolutely stunningly beautiful. I’ve always been that person, but I couldn’t appreciate myself before. And I needed to learn to become comfortable with myself so that my true beautiful self could show.
Sometimes I sound like a nutter talking about this shit, but I don’t mind. I’m comfortable with where I’m at.
Had a check up yesterday. My white blood cell count is still low. My doctor told me it will be for the rest of my life, BUT that my immune function is still normal. So that’s cool. That also explains how it’s been so low for over a year now, but I haven’t been sick for that whole time. Unless you count that weird lung thing, but I don’t know that the hell that was.
I have this weird pain in my right rib, but he didn’t seem to worried about it. My doctor is just hilarious. I asked him about it, and described the pain “as if I bruised my rib.” So he says “Well, did you bruise your rib?” Ha. He also advised I take out my earrings, because he thinks they’ll rip my ears open. We argued and laughed about that for a bit. Then I told him that I’ve been doing comedy night and told him my joke about my cancer boob being the good boob, he laughed really hard. He’s awesome.
Also, he told me that my radiation tan will last forever. So, that that. Not that I care, I just had been wondering when the hell it was going to fade.
Anonymous asked: Hi there, this is Chris Rogers writing (I was a year ahead of you in high school). I followed the internet trail here from your sister's facebook page, and I wanted to say how sorry I was to hear of the struggles with your health, and how brave you must be to share them so publicly. It's probably healthier that way, of course, but I don't think the Norwegian-midwesterner in me would let me do that. I'd probably stew by myself in a corner. Anyway, Joyce, take care of yourself.
Hi. Thanks for writing! It’s nice to hear from you. Thank you for your well-wishes. I hope you’re doing well, and that you had a great year. I’m going to keep going on about some things here, feel free to stop reading now, but you’ve made me think of some things.
I do think it’s healthier for me, personally, to share my shit so publicly. I’m a firm believer in the whole ‘you’re only as sick as your secrets’ thing.
But, I find that few people that I know actually read this. I was talking to my sister, and she didn’t even know that I had this blog. So, in a sense, it’s like I’m hiding in plain sight.
When I first started and people were more aware of this blog, it was always kind of odd because I didn’t know if people were or weren’t reading it. Sometimes I’d feel this elephant in the room, like “I totally wrote about this, and now I’m talking about it, but am I just repeating myself to them in a way… and if so why aren’t they saying so…”
Long story short I’m probably too neurotic to have a public blog this honest.
Long story short I’m so neurotic I need a public blog this honest.
The cancer shit just forced it all out. And for that I can’t even begin to express my gratitude.
