I can't get my head around this breast cancer journey at all. Two stage 3 tumours, one lumpectomy, 6 sessions of chemotherapy and 1 month of radiotherapy later and I still don't understand.
Why did I get it in the first place? Why did I survive (or did I? Is it only pretending and it's going to come back?). Why do I feel guilty for having it and for causing so much upset to so many people who love me.
I've cried practically non-stop all weekend. I have a sore head because of the crying. I thought tears were meant to be healing but I don't feel any better. My breast and under-arm are sore because of the radiotherapy but that's not what's upsetting me. It's the lack of euphoria. Why am I not jumping for joy because my treatment's finished? Why did my boyfriend leave me because he couldn't handle the cancer? Why am I surrounded by couples when I try to Christmas shop (the last thing on my mind, I can assure you) and why do I continually remind myself that I have to be brave and that I can do this? Why do I make myself paint my toe nails when I'm still practically bald and feel like the least attractive female in the world? I'm sorry, I just can't see the point.
I've just cried and cried over the 'phone to my poor mum who has listened to me and been there every step of the way (as has my dad). I try to shield my beautiful son (who's away at University) from how I feel but, wow, it's so difficult. I'm going back to work (part-time) on Tuesday of this week and hopefully that will be a positive step. I think I'm going to have to try counselling. Everything inside me rebels against that, saying that I don't need counselling, I'm strong enough, but I have to face the truth. I'm not strong and I need to talk to someone. Someone impartial, but understanding. I know they won't be able to answer all my "whys" but maybe they can help me understand why I feel the way I'm feeling. I wish I could get angry at the cancer again, that was a much easier emotion.
And for anyone who thinks this blog is full of self-pity, yeah, they'd be right. Self-pity, hurt and lots of unanswered questions. I'm not even going to go down the road of "there's always someone worse off than me" because, quite honestly, they walk in their shoes, but these shoes are mine.
Joan
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