I am hesitant to post something that I wrote on Saturday afternoon, but I promised myself – when I started this blog – that I would be completely honest. I preface all of this with the mention that my mind and emotions have been under great trial over the last several weeks. It all came to a head this weekend (at least I hope it can’t get any worse) when I felt that peeling the skin off of my arms MIGHT have provided some relief. Fortunately, this afternoon, I meet with the doctor.
Please forgive me if I offend.
All of my life I’ve heard people who have gone through various trials talk about what people say in an attempt to help, that most of the time doesn’t help at all. I think I understood that it’s okay to say that you don’t know what to say, or that you think of me often, or wish there was something you could do.
But here are some things that DO NOT HELP; and again, I am sorry if these hurt anyone’s feelings. Writing in complete and total honesty is a real release of the pent up junk in my head.
Just because you have a relative, an aunt, a friend, a daughter, a spouse that has experienced cancer or taken interferons and you want to share your horror story with me, it doesn’t make you empathetic. You can’t know how I am feeling. Right now, I don’t want to know about other people’s past trials. I’m barely making it with my own junk.
I am dealing with one year of cancer treatments, with side effects of anxiety, depression, EXTREME fatigue, and nausea. I must still work, full time, to support my family. I have two teenage children. I internalize everything – meaning that I see this whole thing as a failure somehow on my part. On an intellectual level, I know it’s not, but I am the only person in my family who can hold us together and make our household move forward.
I will get through this. We will all get through this, but it only by God’s grace and His righteous right hand that holds me up.
Thanks for the continued prayers. But, please, keep your horror stories to yourself – unless, of course, I ask.