I needed a short nap this afternoon and that turned into sleeping like the dead for over three hours. I had to force myself out of bed. This new dose of gabapentin is doing so much for my pain that I’ve decided I would rather go back on Ritalin (for energy) than reduce the dose. So I guess I’ll start that tomorrow.

Is this really Christmas week? I can’t believe it. I don’t feel ready. I don’t feel jolly. I’ve been busting my ass to make this the “best Christmas ever” and yet I haven’t caught any of the Christmas spirit. I’ve gotten way too focused on this possibly being my last (or last good) Christmas, and I need to get out of my head. What if it is? So what, Jenn? Just enjoy it for whatever it is. That’s all you can do.

I saw this pic of myself from Friday night and I look fucking awful. My face is so fat, and I look like a sausage. I hate it. And I hate how much it matters to me; how much it affects my self-worth. I’ve been tearing myself apart recently. I’m too fat. I look old. My style is bad. My hair is too thin and too short. My skin is really showing signs of aging. I could go on and on. The grace I show others is non-existant for myself. I saw this meme and I’m trying to apply the sentiment to myself, because it’s so true:

I’ve been through so much this year. I’ve been in/at the hospital several times. The cancer meds have really kicked my ass. I spent half the year in bed. And yet, I’ve kept on keeping on. Shit isn’t perfect, but I’m fighting for my life (both literally and figuratively) and thriving despite it all. I’m not perfect. I’ll never be. I need to find a balance between fighting for what I want, accepting who I am/what I have right now, and gratitude.

A lot of my MBC sisters didn’t make it to Christmas this year. They would have given anything for one last holiday with their families and friends. Who cares about the rest of it? Be grateful. Always.

I’ve spent my entire life trying to be, or at least trying to appear, perfect. It was my way of controlling the chaos in which I grew up. I had an image in my mind of the person I want (needed) to be, and I have been striving to be her for over 40 years now. I’m exhausted. Nothing is ever good enough. I’m constantly disappointed in myself. It’s no way to live.

I love you, Jennifer. You’ve fought the good fight for a long time. You’re tired. Take a rest. Be kind to yourself. You are amazing. Believe it. ♥️