Chemo K

My girlfriend has a cancerous tumor on her spine, and she is well into a month plus of heavy chemo. The toxic sludge she has to ingest wrecks every part of her body, and is pushing her right to the brink of death. For me, I know there is no way to shield her from the pain, or the symptoms… but I can be compassionate, loving and humorous at relevant intervals. This is what I can do from far away. Empathy, compassion and understanding are my tools. She is now also receiving radiation treatments to help destroy the tumors, with an accompanying set of additional side effects. My heart breaks for her, but there is little I can do to make her day-to-day life less agonizing.

I am eager to get back to Mobile and see her in person, so I can be a physically useful person in her immediate proximity. How can I relieve the biggest burden, the pain, if I am not there to actually carry the load? I’m going to put my tax return to good use and let Uncle Sam pay my way to the deep South next month and get a few days of relief in line for her. Plus, all her friends and family have come out of the woodwork now that she has a diagnosis and many are offering help of some sort. I’m glad she has that support network to rely on.

My therapy session was focused on my role in this new predicament. I feel both glad for the love I feel, and afraid of all the potential negative outcomes. I have anxiety, yes, but it does not own my processes. Worry is healthy, and a response that I feel is somewhat appropriate to reflect the gravity of the subject matter. I love someone who is going to come very close to death, and that’s a scary thing.

I know I need to be there, and I will be for a time. K is unbelievably strong. Her strength helps me keep my mind on the positive, and the inevitable victory she will achieve over this unwanted intruder. I hope I can help her somehow… I don’t really think I do much but distract her. That is relief, at least.

Have a good week everyone.

 

Hi

I’m checking in for the first time in a while. I have been sliding down into a depressed state for many weeks now, and I am starting to use my coping tools to help me find a way back up. I have already begun this turn to some degree but coming back here and writing my thoughts out is a big part of how I process.

My depression is lubricated by the circumstance of K having cancer and engaging in a knock-down, drag-out brawl to liberate herself from it. It’s a very real possibility that she will not be here at the end of this struggle, and that chills me in a cold-knife-to-the-intestines kinda way. I do try to keep my optimism and attitude positive but I won’t hide that I’m scared. I gave her every part of myself that I had to give, and she could be gone. More than just that though, I feel detached from myself like I’m watching my reality through a screen and I have the joystick in my hands. I don’t feel like there is much I can do to influence anything… I feel ineffectual somehow. Irrelevant maybe is the better word. I have lost a sense of what I am good for, what I am doing and why I am doing it. Is anything I do making a real difference? Are people benefitting from the energy I give? Am I even giving enough in the first place? There is a voice of nagging negativity and dubiety plaguing me from afar. Work has felt like a black hole since we lost our office. I’ve had a very hard time establishing a routine since there is no physical location to drive to. I end up somewhere between serious and relaxed, composed and decomposing. I need to get out of this house and I have been contemplating ways I could have a remote location where I do work. I’m actively problem solving my circumstances. Lastly, I just feel that neurochemical imbalance… slow, sad, unexcited, bored, anxious. It’s an all the time stagnant haze which my flashlight only further illuminates rather than provides me with any clarity on the path forward.

Though these thoughts and feelings do haunt me, they are a small fraction of the pervading good that I feel in my life. Many positive things are happening in my world that are cause to be hopeful: I have a wonderful woman in my life who knows me and loves me for who I am; she is with me every day whether physically present or not. I have a loving family that is willing to work on improving their  communication skills. I just traded in my 15 year old Dodge for a new Nissan truck! I have a job where being mentally ill isn’t something I need to hide, it’s something that qualifies me to do the work that I do. We just bought a new house for my mom and dad and I, in a very beautiful area just up the freeway from Sacramento. Life has never been as good as it is about to be.

I have these dialectical thought processes: I take the good and the bad and respect both while not siding conclusively with either aspect. I often proceed with things having considered both the positive and negative aspects of said things (or, I try to). I can love/hate with the best of them. I think this keeps me from being too stubborn, or too closed minded. I like having things to add to either column, and since the balance favors the less objectionable option, I have the ability to be moved on issues where most would be unwilling to acquiesce. It also helps me not get too lost in my depression, because I can still see the good too. I know there is sadness, and sometimes it is the only thing I feel… but I also know that the sadness will pass on to something else if I help it do so. A distraction, or a game, a good conversation, a hug if you can get one for sure but we don’t always have someone to hug. There are things I can do for myself to help me get out of this place and that’s what I’m going to be pushing for in the days ahead.

I need to get this body moving again and continue my better eating habits. I have a plan of action to help restore my vital energy and eccentric spunk I’m so often known for. I am coming back, one doofy comment at a time.

Burned

The truth is, you’ll do better without me. All my unrequited affection only drove you away. The insistence you have in limiting your potential is silly, but it’s your choice. You don’t yet know that you have power but you do.

There is no more us. You are a thing I couldn’t have and now I’m repulsed by. How things have gone from once so sweet to bitter and rotten. An unexplored potential now never to be. I don’t want you. Not anymore. Not ever.

I’m angry as you can see. I’m not a petty asshole who punishes with power. I’ll always forward your career potential even if I don’t want to invest in a friendship. I doubt I’ll ever see you again though. I’ve done a pretty good job of traumatizing you into isolation. Look at how opposite of the thing I wanted to do happened! Isn’t it amazing? I broke the one person I really felt in harmony with. I ruined her chances at friendship with me and her fear of me will keep her away from my organization from now on. She’s been destroyed by my uncontrolled desire to know. She’s drowned in my bile. Goodbye C. You didn’t deserve what I gave you, but you don’t deserve me either.

Now that you’re gone, I have a chance at clarity. Now that I don’t have to care about you any more, I can proceed with an unbiased perspective. You’ll never see me the sane way, and always revile my behavior. My unwanted attraction. My flamboyance. My effusive expressions. I have hurt you and I know it. I accept it. I own it. I did it so you would go away now that you don’t want me. I banished our friendship because I could not do what I wanted. Is that petty and cruel? FUCK YES IT IS! But it still happened. It’s still my response. It is still the reason why I’ll never see you again.

And you know, maybe this is a lesson for me. Maybe traumatizing people and breaking friendships I can’t explore more deeply is a thing I’ll get better at as time goes on. Think of all the innocent people I’ll destroy and leave stunned in the dark. Oh the future is full of pain Blog. Full of pain that I inflict. Why? Because I can’t have anyone. Because no one wants me. Because no one really means what they say. Because even the way people act is a lie that hides a limitation. She lied. She and do many others. She lied to make it easier on herself to say goodbye. Now I am too.

You did lead me on. You don’t admit your part in this but you had one. You wanted me to play into this situation but didn’t want it to perturb your fragile balance. Your reinterpretation of our sharing stinks of revisionist history. You couldn’t decide what you were comfortable with and now we’re both burned up.

C, you’re a great person who doesn’t have much figured out yet. You had no chemistry for me. You disregarded my affection. You settled for the mediocre to preserve your morality. I hope you enjoy the lot you’ve prescribed yourself. I’ve failed enough times to know you take what you want and get stronger. Truth is, you never really wanted me even though I tried to make you. You should have just said “never.” Then at least I could have stopped caring a long time ago.

I hope you cry. I hope it hurts. I’m roiling. I’m furious at you. I’ll never go back to being your friend. This is the finality I always sought, just the opposite result. I’m bitter. I’m fuming, but not going to take one single action. You won’t come back anyway, I’m sure you’ll never work for me again. Why would you? I’m a fucking prick.

The Jar

It all goes back in and the stopper on top. The finality of it is reassuring but the future seems emptier than before. A cringe and a retreat is my response. No regret but no more future either.

It helps to not have to hope; reality seems more achievable now. My effusions dispersed and evaporated away. The baggage of wanting removed and only the lasting bond of friendship remains. C and I seem like we won’t be, ever, and even though that is sad, it also helps. No I don’t have to dream anymore. I don’t have to yearn in an unrequited spiral. Now I can continue living my life the way I have been, erring a future built on good mental health.

Done. Back to the routine without the beacon to fill the world with light. Much as I always knew it would be. Much as I deserve. So on we go…

Unchanging

I don’t know why, but I always seem to hope for unrealistic things. For example: I hope that people in my world would stop and change their destructive behaviors and instead nothing changes. I hope that self-honest introspection would be seen as an aspiration, but still nothing changes. I’m mired in frustration; perplexed by a world of decay and stagnation while I try to emerge. I think I’ve finally snapped.

I’m not in psychosis, but I’m just done with the people that erode my healthy behaviors and perpetuate dysfunction. I’m tired of shallow and meaningless exchanges that build a nothing road to nowhere. Why am I wasting my time, skills and love on people who don’t recognize what I have to offer? I’m such a special person, and yet, I subject myself to a reality that will never comprehend all that I am.

This is my frustration. It is massive, unrecognized and undesired. I have very few people in my world that really matter or make a difference. My home is a wasteland. My social circle has chunks missing from it. My redemption is the hard work I put in to help people advance their lives towards prosperity, dignity and stability. That’s no joke. I really do help people, every day. Meanwhile I’m surrounded by resentment, disdain, denial and escapism. My role models are the worst people I know.

So Blog, I’m detaching. Fuck all that noise. I’m launching into independence of self if not of physical location. Soon enough I will be subject to a calamitous and changing circumstance, but the torture involved is unrelenting while totally unappreciated. I’m frustrated beyond calculation.

I tried to expand the bubble and I shouldn’t have. The world is just jam packed with idiots, mindless wanderers and deplorables waiting to poison my reality. Are you ever just sickened by the life you lead? Do you ever wish you could permanently exit? I think about it now. I didn’t used to, but now I do. This life is frustrating because all the parts that need to change are completely unchanging. Stuck in dysfunction. Sinking into the stagnation in a painfully slow fashion.

I do wish I wasn’t here anymore. Nobody sees me. Nobody is even slightly capable beyond a slim margin of well-traveled veterans of my bubble. Do you know how desolate it feels to know we’re all just faking real life? Every day is a pretend version of actuality. Every interaction is make believe. I humor my way through, but why? They don’t see me now, what difference would it make if I were dead? I’d still be just as ineffectual and easy to disregard.

I feel acutely hopeless. Lost. I don’t know how long I can tolerate this rancid rot that fills my nostrils. Denial. Revulsion. Despair. Goodnight.

Groups

Why is it that these groups help? There’s no treatment being rendered, no prescriptions or policies to follow. How can sharing be so effective? I think it has a lot to do with repressed versus expressed feelings and the cathartic act involved in unleashing things that few others get to see.

I don’t feel particularly rejuvenated, but I do feel like I was heard, which is a profound thing. I expressed my hurt over my dad, my poor coping skills stemming from that. I got a lot of genuine reaction from people who understand the why and the what of dealing with mental health symptoms. It is a blessing to have this support and be able to be exposed by it. I just wish I could have a similar feeling from a caring partner.

I saw people fighting the symptoms and thoughts of mental illness in their lives and surviving. People facing their demons and vocalizing. I’m still kinda running from mine, but I won’t forever, yet there was so much in the group dynamic I benefitted from. I will be resolute in healthily coping, but reaching that state is the struggle I face. For now though, my ecliptic is only a place I hang laundry from and the so-called cushions of my chair are pancaked into squishless plates of unfortunate size that tweak my posture and provide no relief. There are surely better habits out there waiting to be implemented.

All the lonely was scraped off like so much obscuring ice on the car windshield of my destiny. I still have only a small sniff of things that may come, but for the time being, there is an ache which continues unabated, unrequited and unmistakable. Is there someone out there? There are people that I help and those that help me. I tend to think a balance of both is the surest path towards positivity.

Crashy ‘Splode… Poof!

I haven’t felt like writing. Real life has been volatile to the point of occupying my attention fully. K was back for a bit but now gone again. She’s not the right fit for my life, which is now abundantly clear. Dad is still slowly dying; withering away as I watch helplessly. Mom lost her mind with stress and grief a few days back, which poisoned the world for a time. Am I dealing with this? Have I become depersonalized from my perception of reality? What hope is there of consistency when all the variables are fluctuating?

I have only what skills and strategies I’ve learned in order to survive this life in varying states of decomposition and growth. There’s no making sense of it; I’ve given up on that. Now, I hang on for scrapes and fingernails.