What now? What else? Please stop.
Just had an argument about life shit (because of cancer) with D, and then he had to leave to get Frey from band practice before we really had a chance to talk it out and make up. Now DMB is playing Some Devil during the Wednesday night concert, and I kind of just want to lie down and cry forever.
My sweet old guy client, who actually has a hearing set for today, died this morning. I’m really sad about it. He reminded me of my grandfather, and was always telling me stories. RIP, Lee.
My grandmother died today.
I was wearing a cute dress and cat brooch:
But then I decided to change, because my body hurts today. It’s partially soreness from yesterday’s workout, but the bigger part is tension pain throughout my head, neck, shoulders, and back. So now I’m wearing this instead:
It was nice to free the boobs from boob jail – this shirt seemed appropriate under the circumstances. Haha. And my husband seems to like these basic looks better than my usual attire anyway so win-win.
Last night, D and I took a long walk, and I ended up spewing emotional vomit all over him, and I feel terrible about it. It’s not fair for me to place all of my emotional baggage at his feet and ask him to carry it. Help me carry it? Sure. But he doesn’t need to hear some of it. Some of it is just too much; especially considering he can’t do a damn thing about it. So I reached out to a therapist friend, whom I’m hoping will have a referral for me. I need someone I can talk to. The cancer psychologist I met with was cool, but he’s not the right fit for the shit I’m ready to dig into. I want a female. I need someone who can at least sort of relate to what I’ve already given up in terms of my body and self esteem. I need a female perspective on how to deal with my insecurities about the future and about my relationship. In the meantime, my friend Kara has been stepping up in a big way. She has her own cancer diagnosis, so she understands. It’s good to vent to her, but still…I need professional help. My issues are a fucking full time job right now. I put up a brave front, but this is so fucking hard. The bitterness – it’s palpable. It’s like I’m choking on it.
Wow that was a novel.
Ugh there is still so much shit left to do today. I’m thinking of taking some time off, but I feel bad if I’m not constantly making money for the firm, because who the fuck knows what’s going to happen with the economy. But I need to give that up, because I certainly won’t be thinking of how I wished I had worked more when I’m on my death bed.
I just keep reminding myself that despite how difficult shit is, and how disappointed I am in some things, I am actually very fucking lucky. Even with cancer, I’m luckier than a lot of people. His love is worth more than anything, and I have it. I can’t lose sight of that.
Find a fucking therapist.
I’m ending it with red wine and cake.
Cake not pictured, because I haven’t cut the slice yet.
We’re watching Captain America: Winter Soldier.
I feel myself slowly pulling out of the funk. I try not to let myself drown in it.
I’ve been listening to this album a lot recently.
I finally truly fell apart. I mean completely lost my shit.
I have an emotional hangover.
Some of these side effects are really starting to get me down.
The cure is worst than the cancer in a lot of ways.
I miss my old life. So much has been taken from me in just two months.
I’m sad and angry today.
Days like this, I don’t know what to do with myself
All day, and all night
I wander the halls along the walls
And under my breath, I say to myself
“I need fuel to take flight”
And there’s too much going on
– Fiona Apple