Wednesday, 17 September 2008

"This is the fear, this is the dread ... these are the contents of my head."

I had to write something else, just to get that post off the top. I freaked myself out, especially reading your comment, Almamay. Feelings that have been dormant for years started to stir. Sometimes I don't know why I post the things I do. After Mr TCs diagnosis, I am much more open here ... and I was pretty open anyway. But, I think I'm still very angry at how things went down. I give off an "I don't give a fuck" attitude, but inside I'm a bit of a wreck. I keep wanting to cry - at nothing. It's hard even to cook dinner. I've probably lost a freelance gig because I didn't reply to a simple email from my editor. WTF!? I feel like failure! Shouldn't I be over this yet? Isn't the whole cancer bullshit wearing a little thin? Today I had to take Monkey to the doctor. He has an infection, poor little guy. Don't even get me STARTED on how late I bonded with him, and it's all the stupid cancers fault. I HATE CANCER. WHERE DOES IT COME FROM ANYWAY?? WHY DO SO MANY PEOPLE HAVE IT?? AND WHY DO I KEEP SHOUTING??


I wanted to ask the doctor what he thought of my listlessness and general sadness and paralysis ... but I accidently forgot. (Just like my gorgeous nephew "accidently nearly pinched Monkey" last week. Heh) Whoopsies. Let's play a game called "How long can you stay in pain before you reach out." I'll start .... oh would you look at that, I started ages ago! About four months, actually!

I think I'll be ok ... I always am. You know that stupid, motherfucking statement "God only gives you as much as you can handle?" Yeah, well, BULLSHIT. God, Universe ..... SOMEONE gave me more than I can handle. I'm done. I know myself enough to know that I probably need therapy. I also know myself enough to know that I'm not getting therapy. The thought of walking in to someone new and spilling my guts to a stranger ... where the fuck would I start, anyway? The last therapist I went to was a fucking voyeur. I have had so much therapy in my life that I could start a therapy practice tomorrow. A GOOD one.

Ugh. I need to shake some energy up. Feeling slow, softcockish, stagnant and totally paralysed. Tonight, I was standing there mashing potatoes to go with the schnitzel, and I suddenly though, fuck  I need a drink. Or ten. Or 27. Just to "take the edge off." (Funny joke, as people like me don't take the edge off, we demolish the whole fucking cliff.)

No, I am in no danger. Doesn't mean that I don't feel like it. Sucks to be me. Yes my sweethearts Tee and Rex; I will go to a meeting, please don't worry. I haven't smoked cigarettes for over five years .... wonder if I'll make it through the week without one? I just want to rip someones head off, when what I really want to feel is peace, love, forgiveness and tranquility.

I just feel so embarrassed that I'm turning off comments.

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