It’s such a complicated question.

A few words come to mind:

Contemplative, quiet, melancholy, weary.

But those are just imperfect words that fail to adequately describe an impossible situation.

I feel like I have to be guarded with how I spend my time. I only want to give it to certain people, and it’s not a long list.

I’m having a hard time responding to people – even my best friends. I don’t want to talk about this shit, but what else is there even to talk about? Pandemic life is boring af. I feel like I’m sitting here watching my life go down the drain. All our plans on hold, and maybe we won’t ever get to realize them now thanks to the pandemic.

Oh and let’s not forget the anger. So much anger. Always there, ready to boil over. I was diagnosed with terminal cancer, which was a huge blow. Only to then have even more dreams and plans dashed by a fucking pandemic. For fuck’s sake. I can either sit around and cry or I can use my anger to fuel me. I choose the latter.

Here’s why it’s impossible to adequately convey how I feel, because despite everything I’ve shared previously, I’m not unhappy. I laugh every day. I have fun with my husband. I enjoy being alive and spending time doing the stuff I love. Mostly I’m just quietly sad, resigned, physically and emotionally exhausted, but still seeing the beauty in everyday. I feel joy every day; maybe more than ever. I now take more time to appreciate a purring cat, how it feels when my dog kisses my hand, a long hug from my son, or the slow breathing of my sleeping husband and the way his skin smells. These things feel more important than ever, and I’m lucky to fully appreciate their wonder.

I’m still working on improving myself and on various mini goals. But I’m also giving myself space to be my imperfect self with less judgment. I’m trying to allow myself to really feel my feelings – whatever they happen to be at the moment – and wow do they change constantly. It’s mood swing central over here.

Does that make sense? Probably not.

I don’t really think you can understand unless you are dying too. That’s the brutal truth.

But thank you for asking. Even when I’m quiet, your support is seen, felt, and appreciated. ❤️

My cancer center visit was a total shit show, for reasons I don’t want to get into right now.

It doesn’t appear that my treatment is working.

I’m waiting to find out where we go from here.

I just took two, yes two, Xanax, and I may have to tell Keto to kiss my ass and eat all the carbs tonight. After all, I might be dead in a couple of years, so what does it matter?