Wednesday, February 1, 2012

"If there's a book you really want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it."-Toni Morrison

I feel like I am all alone. I know I am not. I know there must be other people out there going thru the same crap I am. But God do I feel alone, almost always.

I spent more time then needed talking to a woman at Gilda's Club yesterday afternoon then I really should have. I was looking for a support program for Logan. She was asking me about Lo and I started giving her background info. Then I started talking about myself, and how there is nothing out there, how I feel so lost and alone. She didn't really say anything on the other end, and I was grateful for that. She just let me vent. I needed that. When I got off the phone, i cried. Thank God I was alone in my empty classroom.

Things are really starting to hit me now. I am losing strength, losing momentum. The first year I ran on autopilot. I was in fight mode. There was never a dull moment. Not only was I fighting for and with E, but I was also trying to cope with him hating me.

It has taken a long time to finally admit this to anyone. I haven't really told a real person, but here I am writing it on the internet. My husband hated me. All the websites I consulted told me this was normal. That cancer patients often take it out on those they love the most. Its almost like a natural instinct to push away those that love you, so, in the patients mind, you won't be hurt if something tragic happens. I called bullshit on that often. I mean really, I have heard tragic diagnosis bringing people closer, but rarely pushing them apart. But how the hell would I really know, because I couldn't find anyone else like me out there, a 30 year old cancer spouse and caregiver.

There are lots of books and support groups, and online resources for parents of children with cancer. There are lots of things for breast cancer spouses, and people whose older parents have cancer. But nothing for people like me. Hell even E's cancer isn't common in young adults, although it is becoming increasingly so. It seems the only people close to my age are husbands whose wives are battling breast cancer. And they are lucky because they are given so many support. I am not bitter, I just wish there was something for me.

When we sit in the waiting room at the oncologists office, we look so out of place. I talk to my old lady friends who are fighting colon cancer, and their spouses. But shit its not the same. They have been blessed with the gift of time. I have been married for 40 months. E has been fighting cancer for 16 months. That's 40% of the time I have spent married. 40 effin percent!

Since I am all alone in this, I have turned to writing. Some of the stuff I wrote never made it to the blog. It was just too personal. Those months when E hated me were really really hard. I am thankful that it really was the treatment, as I had suspected, and not a true hatred for me. He finally realized just what he was doing and saying. Don't get me wrong, things aren't perfect. But then again I don't think any marriage is perfect. If its perfect, then in fact its fucked up. Because someone in that relationship is hiding their feelings, or they are putting on a show for everyone else. I have seen plenty of that, especially being a cop's wife. FAKE ASS FUCKED UP PEOPLE/MARRIAGES.

I am thinking about writing a memoir. More for myself then anyone else. It would be to help people who feel completely alone. It would be raw, it would be from the heart, it will show my hurt and my sorrow, and my happiness. It will show what it is really like to be a raging bitch inside, but have to play nice. It will show what it is like to fight tooth and nail for the love of your life. It will show what it is like to have your heart break into a million pieces. It will show what it is like to be all alone. It will contain foul language, and lots of ellipses...because I like them. it might even lack the proper use of capital letters because i am kind of a lazy typist. yea...this might just be a decent idea.

No comments:

Post a Comment