Sometimes I feel like I am going to die from this pain. It’s so deep inside my bones it’s as if some machines are digging from the inside out. Jackhammers and bulldozers that someone parked inside my bone marrow or my joints, and they wake me by digging. Maybe chemo is some sort of construction company that is reconstructing my body. I don’t know how to battle it sometimes. All I can do is lie on my sofa and cry.
The sweats are so bad too. I turn on the air conditioner and the fans to cool off but I get so cold from the fans. Then as soon as I cover up in a blanket I starting sweating all over again. I can’t remember the last time anyone came to visit me or help me at home. Well, someone helped on Friday and that was nice. I hate to ask for help but I need it. I don’t know who to ask anymore. I feel as if mostly everyone has forgotten me. Maybe I would have been better off not finding the cancer in time. Maybe dying is what I’m supposed to do. I can’t be that inspiring to everyone if they never call me. I mean, I feel like shit and I want attention and hugs but I hate asking because it seems so insincere when people give you exactly what you asked for.
I’d like to remind my family that I have not died of cancer like our mother did, and that I am still alive, and maybe a phone call to check up on me or cheer me up is not too much to ask for.
I am scared about the Tamoxifen and the possible mood swings it might give me. I’m scared that my hair might not grow back or it might fall out again or something else will go wrong and the career I am dreaming of—the reason I am fighting to live—is a pointless exercise. What do we get out of feeling sorry for ourselves? I’m not really sure but I’m going to spend some of today finding out. It’s not like I have anything better to do. And how can I really inspire anyone when no one cares enough to really care? I mean, I have a phone. If it weren’t for facebook I’d be long forgotten.
I say that sometimes I feel like I’m going to die from the pain, and I do feel that. I also feel like I may wither away and shrivel up from the loneliness. Everyone else I meet who has cancer has family or friends taking care of them. I have a teddy bear, an air conditioner and streaming Netflix. And my roommate will return soon and move all my stuff around and be horribly insensitive and nothing about that makes me smile. I’m really only asking to be given a reason to smile. My life is shit right now and I know, I know, I know it could be worse, but I’m just looking for a sometime that I get to laugh a little and talk with other humans that are not in my head.
Sometimes talking and laughing and being hugged a lot makes the little construction company in my bones take a break for a while. It’s weird how that works but it really does. No one should have to do this alone…