Move on

OK – I’m close to cracking-up. I haven’t slept without waking every 2 hours for 3 nights now. Yes, the vicious ‘hots’ are back. If this carries on then I’m not to be held accountable for snapping, biting your head and arms off and then bursting into tears.

It took every ounce of my strength and will to get through last week. To get up in the morning, to get through the routine, to get through those hours at my desk and then to go home and feed myself properly and start it all over again. I’m miserable. I go through periods of time where I think I’ve moved on; that the memories have receded a little and then they come back and hit me again. How many years will it take? I thought: one year – then perhaps it’ll seem better but now I’m thinking that perhaps *next* year it will be better and underneath, a part of me if thinking that perhaps it’ll never be better. Perhaps I will always be sad. Perhaps I will always be grasping at life trying to hang on. Trying to keep up. Trying to be on top of things instead of running around after them.

And then I’m scared and hate myself for finding this so hard – this cannot be as terrible as everything I went through last year! That took real tooth-gritting will-power. I feel like it’s taken me away – the cancer may be gone but it’s still eaten me up in the process of banishing it. It’s taken so much to get through it that, actually, what’s left of me isn’t worth having.

Stop me if you've heard it all before.....