|My prima gave me this.|
I made it through the first night with the "C" word.
I slept better than I thought, but I think I woke up more often, though my fitbit says otherwise.
There is a part of me that wishes I did not have to tell anyone. And I mean anyone. That I could forge through alone, because, frankly, it would be easier for me mentally... relationships take an awful amount of energy and I suppose I want to save it (energy) for what is important,
But, I can also admit that I just won't be able to go through this alone. I need my team. I have the core. I am glad for that.
I hate very much, though, that I find that I break down in tears, and tend to do that when I am rummaging through closets and cupboards. My friend says that she did her crying when she was in the shower.
I hate that I keep telling my son that I keep getting dust in my eye. Because I just start crying randomly... even when thinking about red-lights and changing lanes.
But you want to know what scares me the most? Telling my friends. My close friends. The people whom I would want to know if something difficult/similar befell them. I am struggling on how to tell them. Family is easy, I know they will stick by me. Extended family is easy, I know they will manage in their own way. Strangers (like my son's teachers or parents at Squink's activities) are super easy, mainly because I frankly don't give a fuck what they do.
But those who fall in between nothing and genetic filial obligation... they scare me. I have started the process. I have called most of the people that I truly value, the ones I hope I don't lose. There are a few left, but they have birthdays and other events going on, and since I don't really know what is going on with me (in terms of what is going to happen ) and won't until I see the oncologist, it can wait.
I wrote a friend who is on this same track right now and asked what to say, what to do, did anything work better...? And she confirmed my fear (which I knew but I was hoping that my awkward introversion was at play) that there is no right way.
She also touched upon how there is this period of not knowing, and that you don't want to fling the diagnosis out, but then secrecy happens and people get nervous. So I think I am going to ask if I am free to emulate in a grand unveiling, if you will indulge the flourish, of what is going on with me.
I am starting to feel like I am fitting pieces together, the pieces of what I need and want in order to move through this. I know I want to proceed with rose tinted optimism. I consider myself to have my feet firmly planted in the ground and am aware of all sides of things, I want to get through this without wallowing in dark and negativity that is generated by other people. Why, do I want this? Because I know I am going to go through all these different stages and I won't allow negative Ned's and Nelly's" to bring me down... I want you to lift me up, to sing with me, to smile, and say "Blair, this will all end up OK".
So, I suppose not only am I afraid of the friends I will lose because they are burdened by a fear too great to be with me through this, but I am afraid of the friends I will chose to lose because they are too negative or pessimistic people to be around. I am still trying to come to terms with this.
I still breathe.