(no subject)
Well.
Dave finished his second session of chemo, and I only had two mental screaming fits this week.
I had a long talk with Lynn on Tuesday. She wanted to know if keeping my Valiant was really a smart move, being as Dave may or may not be able to fix it for me if it breaks down, and he may not be able to help me fix it up. She thought that I should take the money from my bonus and buy a more girl-friendly car, and I just broke down. I dont want to get rid of the Valiant because I am afraid that if Dave doesn't think that there are things that I need him to do, that he might loose his will to live and get through the chemotherapy and the cancer. I want him to think that there are things to look forward to, and I am terrified that he might loose his will. She told me that I have taken on a mighty weight, agreeing to be someone else's reason for living.
Sometimes his spirit is so high and I think to myself that everything will be just fine. Maybe this is just some horrible dream, and at the end of it all, I will wake up to my cat nuzzling my face.
I am a stuffer. I stuff my emotions into the deepest part of my body and mind, hoping that if it isn't in the forefront of my mind, maybe it will disappear. But it doesn't. It ferments and ruins me, poisoning my spirit. It contributes to my depression and drops my blood pressure. And then when others aren't expecting it, I might loose it and lash out at anyone. If I was anxious, I would annoy everyone all the time, and people would think that I was just neurotic. But when I seem normal all the time, and then I lash out, people don't know what the hell to think of me.
I talk to people who are god-fearing people, and they all say that this is my test. What an awful test. If I fail, what happens then? They say that this is my purpose, that I was put on this earth to look after Dave and make him well. But what if my will is not enough? What if I am not strong enough? I try to be strong and emit a model picture of togetherness. I want others to know that I am in control; I want others to know that I am a fighter. But in the back of my mind, all I can think about is my facade falling down, and my will breaking into a million little pieces.
Friday was the company end of the year dinner, and it was at Appetiz, which was the same as last year, and I was Bud's date again, because Frances didn't come. I had the salmon again, and it was tasty, but not as tasty as I remember it being last year. Dave didn't go with me because he wasn't feeling well.
I was so mad that he didn't go. All I could think about was that I had to go alone, again. After the dinner was over, I went and saw Dave, and realized that he wasn't feeling well, and that he would have gone had he felt okay, I felt so guilty. I can't believe that I had so much tunnel vision and that I was so angry that all I could think about was myself. I went home later that night and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I look at my tear-stained face and my eyeliner streaked down my cheeks. And I fell apart. I felt like my heart was breaking. My heart hurt so badly. I hadn't hurt as bad since Lorrie died. I couldn't believe that I would be angry because I couldn't understand how to express my hurt and my feelings of love and concern that i have for Dave. I love this man, and it seems so strange that several months ago, I wanted to break up with him because I was so tired of being tired. Several months ago, I was bored and I wanted something different; something that didn't involve fighting and being forgotten about.
But now...
Now, I will try to write in my journal. I will take each day as it comes, and nothing more. I will savor the moments of sunshine and gentle rain and green grass. I will hug my cat and try not to think about what the future holds.
Dave finished his second session of chemo, and I only had two mental screaming fits this week.
I had a long talk with Lynn on Tuesday. She wanted to know if keeping my Valiant was really a smart move, being as Dave may or may not be able to fix it for me if it breaks down, and he may not be able to help me fix it up. She thought that I should take the money from my bonus and buy a more girl-friendly car, and I just broke down. I dont want to get rid of the Valiant because I am afraid that if Dave doesn't think that there are things that I need him to do, that he might loose his will to live and get through the chemotherapy and the cancer. I want him to think that there are things to look forward to, and I am terrified that he might loose his will. She told me that I have taken on a mighty weight, agreeing to be someone else's reason for living.
Sometimes his spirit is so high and I think to myself that everything will be just fine. Maybe this is just some horrible dream, and at the end of it all, I will wake up to my cat nuzzling my face.
I am a stuffer. I stuff my emotions into the deepest part of my body and mind, hoping that if it isn't in the forefront of my mind, maybe it will disappear. But it doesn't. It ferments and ruins me, poisoning my spirit. It contributes to my depression and drops my blood pressure. And then when others aren't expecting it, I might loose it and lash out at anyone. If I was anxious, I would annoy everyone all the time, and people would think that I was just neurotic. But when I seem normal all the time, and then I lash out, people don't know what the hell to think of me.
I talk to people who are god-fearing people, and they all say that this is my test. What an awful test. If I fail, what happens then? They say that this is my purpose, that I was put on this earth to look after Dave and make him well. But what if my will is not enough? What if I am not strong enough? I try to be strong and emit a model picture of togetherness. I want others to know that I am in control; I want others to know that I am a fighter. But in the back of my mind, all I can think about is my facade falling down, and my will breaking into a million little pieces.
Friday was the company end of the year dinner, and it was at Appetiz, which was the same as last year, and I was Bud's date again, because Frances didn't come. I had the salmon again, and it was tasty, but not as tasty as I remember it being last year. Dave didn't go with me because he wasn't feeling well.
I was so mad that he didn't go. All I could think about was that I had to go alone, again. After the dinner was over, I went and saw Dave, and realized that he wasn't feeling well, and that he would have gone had he felt okay, I felt so guilty. I can't believe that I had so much tunnel vision and that I was so angry that all I could think about was myself. I went home later that night and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I look at my tear-stained face and my eyeliner streaked down my cheeks. And I fell apart. I felt like my heart was breaking. My heart hurt so badly. I hadn't hurt as bad since Lorrie died. I couldn't believe that I would be angry because I couldn't understand how to express my hurt and my feelings of love and concern that i have for Dave. I love this man, and it seems so strange that several months ago, I wanted to break up with him because I was so tired of being tired. Several months ago, I was bored and I wanted something different; something that didn't involve fighting and being forgotten about.
But now...
Now, I will try to write in my journal. I will take each day as it comes, and nothing more. I will savor the moments of sunshine and gentle rain and green grass. I will hug my cat and try not to think about what the future holds.