I’m sitting here staring at my cell phone. I need to make a call I just don’t want to make. I need to let me boss know whats going on. I need to tell her I won’t be able to continue work anymore.
I’m sitting here with tears streaming down my face. I’m mad. I’m sad. I’m frustrated. Yet, I feel guilty for how I feel. I mean at least I haven’t been told I have xx amount of months to live. Its just looking back over the last 15 years of my life and feeling like every turn, every cross roads and been nothing but useless and worthless. Every change stolen and every opportunity has led to a brick wall.
As we headed to the cancer center this morning I couldn’t help but think about a year ago. A year ago I was starting school at the school of my dreams. After the first semester I thought for sure it was my calling… hell I was a first year who had their picture published on the wall! Not too many get that prestigious honor. I was on top of the world. I was making new friends…got good, no excellent grades! All that came to a crashing halt one stupid fucking night.
I justified it because I was able to get counseling to deal with some issues I’ve kept hidden in the deep corners of my heart. In the mean time I got a job and three months later was training to be a store manager… BAM! Not more than one month later I have stupid cancer.
I feel like I’ve busted my ass my entire adult life to be the best person I can be. Best mom. Best wife. Best friend. Best worker. Yet…. No matter what I try to do, its my personal dreams and goals that get the giant smashing blow. I mean come on! This isn’t fair. I went to school and have to pay my student loans off. I finally get a salary paid job; get recognized for my hard work…. It’s gone. In a fucking instant its gone.
I feel like its selfish to just want to some personal pride. Pride in who I am as an individual. I’m proud at how well we’ve raised our kids. I’m a good wife…hell not many would stick with the bull shit I’ve had to put up with. I know I”m a good friend. But damn it I want something for me. Just me. Something that says I’m outstanding and smart and didn’t waste life away. I want something to put my stamp on… to say look, I did that.
Now my life revolves around pill bottles, doctors appointments, and feeling like I’m a burden to my own family. I’m sick of asking them can you do this or that for me. I’m sick of not even being able to drive. I’m sick of not having my own money to spend on what I want. I’m sick of having to ask Dan to do this or that. I can accept my limitations, but I feel useless. I feel like a waste of air space. I mean seriously, how much more can a person take?
I don’t want to do this next chemo series. I don’t want to spend the next 9 months constantly feeling helpless to everyone around me. I’m sick of begging certain family members for help. I’m tired. I am just tired of all of this. I’m tired of being told God doesn’t give you what you can’t handle. I’m tired of being told how strong I am. I’m tired of trying to stay positive. I am just tired.
Tired and frustrated.
I feel like I have a meaningless point of existence.