Maelstrom

What do you do when you're hyperventillating over lunch, and your hair?
Seriously, I do not know what to do.
Not eat lunch because it's simply too difficult to decide what to eat - when I don't want anything anyway and I'm just thinking about it because it's 'lunchtime' and I'll probably end up with another headache later if I don't eat. I'm not saying that I'm not hungry - I have no idea if I'm hungry or not anymore. I often find myself eating if someone else puts it down in front of me even when I didn't think I was hungry. I *cannot* do anything if someone asks me what I want for dinner later - the answer is 'nothing' and if they suggest things then it makes me feel ill. Not sick - just, sort of sickened - like they've brought up some unspeakable topic. But I'll probably eat it if it's put in front of me. Or some of it. And yet I've still mananged to put back on all the weight I lost with the chemo in 2005. Which is depressing, because that was the one thing I brought away with me from that - at least I'd lost that weight that I could stand to lose.
Food has become the enemy again I suppose.
And I get tied up in a quandry of what *should* I eat, what *ought* I to eat. Lots of fibre and fruits and vegetables are the *shoulds* and *oughts* - which can prove a bad idea if my stomach is heading diarrhoea-wards. But not eating them isn't good for a body either - and mine will tell me in no uncertain terms. Seriously, if I could farm out my digestive tract to some other source, I bloody would.
And my hair, is so long now, and people say it's pretty and it probably is; but I can't even stand to wash it or myself most days. (which is pretty shameful) The room or the water or both is/are never the right temperature for whatever I am. Plus, what's the point of having nice hair when it spends all day and all night pulled back from my face and neck because it makes me hot and claustrophobic? But I'm scared to have it cut off again - which is silly, because it grows really fast anyway - I don't want the curls to go, I don't want to re-adapt to different hair again. And If I have it cut off I want someone one who knows how the hell to deal with ringletty, curly hair. I mean, is bloody brilliant, because there aren't as many people with curly hair out there as there are with straight hair; so it goes without saying that most hairdressers will have more experience with straighter hair. And what if I have it cut so it's not such a mess, then I'll have to stop being such a mess in my dress and everything else. It'll raise the stakes.
And this all seems so miniscule, so irreverant when there are so many worse things out in the world.
What the hell is happening to me? Why does this stuff that would once have hardly caught my attention seem like the end of the world? Why has this combination of things reduced me to standing at the back door hyperventilating? And what does it all mean anyway? beacause if it meant only what it is on the surface then I wouldn't be in a state about it so this has got to be about something else really. So tired now and I've barely been up today.

Baby, when you're gone.....

I've been finding myself feeling a bit panic-y whilst I've been here. I keep seeing photos of myself - graduation photos, baby photos etc and I think it makes me realise that I will be missed when I'm no longer here. And that makes me feel terrible. It makes me feel so guilty that I will cause people to mourn; to feel so terribly sad. Perhaps that seems odd - perhaps it seems a bit big-headed. But it makes me feel terribly bad about myself. I don't want to be the cause of pain and sorrow.
I met my brother's girlfriend yesterday - she seems so nice. I like her a lot and I am so glad that my brother has found someone so great; someone else who sees how fantastic he is; someone who'll be there for him when I cannot be. I keep feeling like I see glimpses of the future - but a future that I may not be a part of.
So, I appear to have managed a week of being slightly upbeat before it all tumbled down again.
Oughts and shoulds and wishes all mishmashing together.
Plus, I have no knitting or yarn with me and I don't know what to do with my hands, never mind my head.
I know, I know; 'good situation', 'could be worse' - all of that. I suppose I just feel like the situation will be worse in time and therefore I might as well be there already.
What's the answer? A furry cat to heat me up beyond all endurance? I don't know anymore.

Brownies and Guides

I like my brownies and guides - honest - they're just utterly exhausting.

Especially since two of the guides are totally at each other's throats. The put-down of the evening is saying that everything is 'ghetto'. Whatever the heck that means......

Brownies are scarily full of energy, guides are totally unable to listen. THE BICKERING!!!! It was just like my brother and I - we were superb bickerers - now I start to know how my parents felt. Sorry folks!

And hey, at least spending 2 1/2 hours doing brownies and guides takes my mind off everything else.

I've been thinking lots about the girl I met who's younger than I am and has breast cancer too - her surgery was on Monday and she was, needless to say, pretty scared and unhappy. I haven't heard from her - hopefully all her family and friends are carrying her along but I hope she's OK. I've been thinking about her all this week.

It's hard because it brings back all the memories of my surgery and that time and it's tough stuff to remember. In some ways I find it harder to remember than it was to go through it. Because then I knew it would end - the memories don't end and they still have the capacity to upset me and I end up with this mantra going round and round: "It's done, it's over, it's just a memory"

But it doesn't help.

They tell me I'm still grieving but I feel like it will never end. They tell me that it's normal but I still feel like a dysfunctional freak. Elaine got quite cross with me when I said that last week - in a caring way - saying that I was wrong to call myself that, that it was normal, that she expects me to find this hard. But underneath all that I still feel dysfunctional.

Ouch - my fingers hurt as I type coz my shitty nails are digging into the side of fingers as I type. I'll be so glad when the rest of them grow out. At least they didn't fall out which is what various people were predicting (haha!) Did I mention that my body is utterly contrary and does what it damn well pleases??

My oncologist called me a 'challenging woman' the last time I saw her and said it was a compliment. I think that's what's got me through all this, to be honest - sheer determination and stubbornness. I like my oncologist very much - she's a challenging woman too and if I'm anything like her then I ought to be OK in life. If I can only find that bit of me and believe in it hard enough.

Elaine says I will get there - I'm not sure I want to. I like being looked after. I like being fragile. I don't want to be the snow-queen, ice-maiden, person-who-does-it-all anymore.

No more.

Don't add up

So, if I did it all, how come I feel so miserable?

How come it takes me hours to get out of the house in the morning? (Other than the fact I don't actually want to go to work anymore - why won't they pay me to stay home and knit? Unfair, I call it.....)

Have to finish arm exercises, have to make lunch (haven't time) still won't manage to be at work until about 11am - totally outrageous!!! They're wonderfully understanding but I just feel totally guilty every time I walk in the damn building......but obviously not guilty enough to haul my ass out of bed a couple of hours earlier in the morning.

Well, it's dark! Dark means it's still night and therefore it cannot be time to get up - see where logic gets you? LATE!

Then must have breakfast with stupid rice milk because apparently dairy is bad if you have (had) cancer. Takes an hour to eat stupid cereal - not wheat - wheat is bad too (I can't remember why). Nutritionists - fuck off!! (if you're a nutritionist, I'm sorry, but all this 'eat this, don't eat that' lark is making me stressed. Life is too short - I am acutely aware of this and I want to have a life while I have one and not spend it juicing celery (no, I do not have a juicer - HAVE YOU SEEN HOW MUCH THEY COST!!!!!! About 100 quid (180 bucks). This, to my mind, is totally outrageous and I'll just chew the celery thank you - added bonus of fibre and cleans teeth) I have too many brackets going on - I'm confused I'll just stick some in and start a new sentence). There, so much better. Don't try and make sense of it - just flow.....or some such malarkey.

Must. Go. To. Work.

Must. Catalogue. Dull. Books.

At least the sun is out - maybe I don't have to cry this morning.