As promised. Here is what I wrote late last night/early this morning. For whatever it is worth, it enters the "record" by being here. I am not doing much better this morning. I woke up with my eyes so swollen, they looked half shut. Talking about this is not magically having it go away. It seems to be sticking around for a bit.
Prayers are welcome, but if you aren't going to help me in a tangible way, if you aren't going to do something directly on my behalf, please do not tell me right now about God, or your prayers. It is not that I am ungrateful, or that it is unappreciated, it is just not what I need to hear right now. I hope you can understand. Thank you for any understanding you might be able to conjure up.
It all started about 9:00 pm last night
Feeling out of sorts. Everything feels off-kilter.
Then...around 2:00 am this morning...these posts...one after another...
Is there any point to my life? Any at all? It sure doesn't feel like there is...
No one knows what to say. No one knows what to do. That includes me. I am at the end of my rope. I had someone tell me I could change my world, but then realized it wasn't a thing to say. It was someone who knows I have tried and done as many things as I have been able to. It is one thing when you are healthy. The day cancer showed up, so many damn doors slammeshut. I think, among other things, I am in mourning.
If people say they care, is it like the tree that falls in the forest if they do not say or do anything? Does it make a sound...do they really care? I don't know the answer...just asking the question.
A woman took some diet pills she got in the mail. 2 was a lethal dose. She took 8, I think...she died fairly quickly. Got me thinking in ways that probably weren't the best...
Right now I just don't give a damn about anything. If I did not wake up in the morning, given my current state, I think I would be just fine about that. Provided I do awaken, and the clouds do clear, I will probably wonder why I was so upset. But. Getting there. That is the thing. Everything is as dark as dark can be at the moment.
I am exhausted, and should probably sleep. But I feel numb. I also can't stop crying at moments between the numb. My eyelids are swollen. My stomach and chest hurt. And I am acutely aware there are those who will think my posts are TMI. Breakdowns should never be public. On Facebook. NEVER. Well. Never is now. So many think I am just fine all the time because I seem to be. Well. The fact is I am not. I am not ok. And now you get to see just how not ok I am.
I definitely feel like I am losing it - if it isn't already gone. Day after day I do whatever I can to help myself. I make posts. I ask, plead, beg for help. It is exhausting. It has taken a tremendous toll on me, on top of the facts of my life that necessitate me having to do that in the first place. Do I want to do it? Hardly. But I need to. Without help, I am sunk. As it is, I am sinking - fast. Many just have no idea the toll this has taken on me in so many ways. Well. Maybe these posts will change that, a bit.
I have never been drunk. But if I was to imagine what drunk was like, I would imagine it would look something like the tangent I am on tonight...wonder what the hangover will feel like tomorrow?
Ever watch someone fall apart? You might just be doing it at the moment.
I think about giving up, I wonder who would care and/or notice. Of course, i suspect there would be some who would. At the same time, from where I stand so many seem to be off living their lives, it feels like it would be a blip, and then business as usual. Would it really be that way? Maybe not. But I am not exactly rational at the moment. I just know how it feels most days.
The scary thing about giving up? cancer would likely happily finish me off. There is a fine line I walk between life and death. I resisted chemo for a long time because I felt that chemo took me away from myself. I don't know how much of this to blame chemo for. After all, a lot of my life outside of it is pretty messed up. However, my life is greatly impacted and limited by the effects of treatment. So it is probably a neat little package of goodies that causes me all this grief.
Does anything really matter? Or are we just so desperate to believe that things do? Again. I have no idea the answer to this question. Just posing it.