Removing the Mask and Revealing the Darkness

It's been a while.  It was sort of as if the journey was over when I finished treatment.  That's not true.  Not at all.

Things haven't gotten any easier for me emotionally.  It was probably last April when I started looking for a therapist.  With the state insurance plan I had at the time, that wasn't easy.  Almost no one took it.  In July I finally had a first appointment.

With the stress I was going through from treatment, recovery, losing my relationship, friends, job, body parts, and the life I used to have.... it all got to be too much.  Toss in one medication I started in February that can cause "depression or suicidal tendencies".   I was a mess.  And that's putting it mildly.

No matter what I did to try to reach out for help, it just wasn't there.  It's hard to ask friends for help.  Jim was already overloaded with everything else with me, and honestly, I don't think he realized how bad I was.  No one did.  But I was sinking down deeper and deeper into a major depression.

Last June was the breaking point.  Another big argument with Jim.  I couldn't handle anything else.  I needed help and couldn't find it.  I didn't know what to do.  I knew I needed help!  But how?  Where??  Everything was so dark, so overwhelming.  I had no stability, no security.  I didn't know what I was going to do about anything and I was terrified. 

In front of Jim, I grabbed my basket of medications, then went into the bathroom and locked the door.  I'm not sure how many pills I took before Jim literally knocked the door down to stop me.  He had me at the emergency room less than 10 minutes later.  I just wanted to fall asleep and not wake up.  I couldn't take the pain anymore.  I was so sad, so hurt, just stuck in this deep dark hole with no way out.  I just wanted it all to stop.

Jim knew it was a cry for help.  It was in front of him.  He knew I had been trying to find a therapist but couldn't.  He knew that's what I needed.

The emergency room disagreed and transferred me to a psychiatric hospital, locked ward.  I did NOT belong in that place.  I still have nightmares about it and the people who were there.  Sad part is, not once did I get any therapy while I was there.

I was transferred in on a Wednesday.  Thursday counted as day 1.  It was a 3 day hold and they don't do discharges on weekends.  Lucky me got to stay over that weekend until Monday.  It was 5 days from HELL.

The hospital messed up in trying to get me a therapist, got me someone who did NOT take my insurance.  I was a mess when I realized that.  The ONE thing I wanted from them and it didn't happen.

Somehow I was able to find somewhere that did take my insurance, a state, public center.  When I called, they first told me it was a 12 week wait!  For a therapist?  How is that helpful?  I ended up with my first appointment about 4 weeks later.

My medications have changed and Ativan has recently been added as needed.  Between that and a great therapist, I was starting to get the help I needed.  My therapist is a cancer survivor, so she understands the emotional trauma the diagnosis can cause better than others. 

I was officially diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder and PTSD, all related to the cancer diagnosis.   It hasn't been easy.  There are some bad days and some not so bad days.

One of the biggest challenges is still about reaching out for help.  Two years ago, when I was losing my hair to chemo, I tried to reach out to people I thought were friends and I was knocked down hard.  I think that whole situation and how abandoned  I felt had a big impact on my emotional health.

Most days, if I leave the house, I put on my mask.  The happy face.  Who would want to see the dark despair that I feel most days?  How could I share that?  I couldn't handle rejection again.  I'm not emotionally strong enough for that.

There are very few people who really see me as I really am.  There are very few people I have been honest with and shared some of what I have been through.  Only Jim knows all of it, because he lives it. That's not healthy for me either- and he's another story and another big part of my issues.

Growing up, whenever we had an argument in my house, when it was done, it was over.  That was it.  Never discuss it, never bring it up.  Why talk about it?  Why bring up something unpleasant?  So just put on the happy face and pretend all of that ugliness from arguing never existed.

Everyone has difference sides of themselves, different parts of your personality that is shared with different groups.  Family may see one side, another side for work, and then another side for friends... and some friends see different sides too.  Does anyone know all sides?  The whole you?

Jim is the only person who knows me completely, all sides.  A few friends have seen most sides, but most people only see the "good" sides.  The happy sides.  They don't know the sadness, emptiness, hurt, despair, terror, darkness.  I don't share that.  I don't let people see that.  I put the mask on.  Being real would make me too vulnerable.  That's scary. 

I try so hard every day to do something to get through this, to make progress.  I consistently go to my therapy appointments, do all the "homework" she gives.  I've tried hard to get out of the house more and to be more social and active.  But it isn't easy.  Some days I can barely make it from the bed to the sofa.  There have been days when the only reason I showered was because Jim had already seen me in the same clothes for 2 days and I figured I should have something else on when he got home from work.  If I was living alone?  I'm not sure I would make it out of bed, forget about leaving the house or even showering.

Several months ago, I de-friended a few people on Facebook.  Part of the group I was friends with 2 years ago.  There were 11 of us.  I now talk to 3.  Seeing pictures they would post, spending time together, doing things that I was once a part of, it hurt.  It reminded me of the life I used to have and the life I lost.  To protect myself, I had to stop seeing it.

Out of the ten friends from that group, I had falling outs with two, although with one, we emailed a bit and sort of let it go.   I consider three of them friends now.  Two- I wasn't ever really close to them.  The other three.... I gave up.  Emails, texts, messages were barely returned, and if they were it was to say how busy things were and that they couldn't make plans.  Then I'd see pictures of them getting together without me. (which is why I felt like I had to defriend them.)

A few days ago, a friend from that group posted pictures on Facebook.  There was nine of them together at her house.  She called it the "running group".  The 11 of us had met over the years through the Couch to 5K trainings that I had organized.  That I had organized.

Seeing those pictures, all of them together, the "running group", it hurt more than I could possibly express.  It was another reminder of the life I lost.  It brought back everything and everyone I had lost. 

The person I was before cancer no longer exists.  She died.  With cancer, I lost my health innocence, my breasts, my ovaries, my hair, my job, my memory, friends, my relationship with Jim, my home, my independence, the lifestyle I had with exercising, running, kickboxing, the ability to naturally get pregnant, the option to breastfeed IF I can ever have a child (I have my freeze babies, but my insurance doesn't cover any infertility- even for cancer survivors.  It isn't "medically necessary".)

The other day I wrote in my journal.

I try so hard to work through everything and to feel better but it doesn't matter.  I keep getting knocked down.  I hate my life and I hate who I am.  I hate everything that happened to me and I'm struggling so much with everything I have lost.

The person I was no longer exists.  And I don't know who I am anymore.  Every dream and hope I had for my life is now lost, gone. And here I am- lost and alone.  I'm having such a hard time with all the losses.  I feel so along.  I am so broken and so hurt.  So damaged.  

I feel lost, broken, damaged, empty and alone.  Sometimes I do genuinely enjoy a moment.  Here and there.  Nights are the hardest.  I can't distract myself from the thoughts when I'm lying in bed. 

It took me a long time to write this, to share this.  Only a few people know about my depression and fewer are aware of how severe it really it.  Posting this is scary.  It's removing the mask.  It's letting others look down into darkness. 

I want things to get better.  I want to be happy again.  I want to have hope again and have dreams again.  Right now I'm not there.  Right now it seems like all of the dreams I once had are unobtainable and out of reach. 

Maybe by being honest, by taking off the mask and showing another side, maybe just maybe it could help someone else from having to through what I went through.  Maybe someone won't feel so alone.  Maybe someone will understand.  Maybe people will reach out more to friends who are having a hard time.

Maybe one day things will be better.  Maybe. 

The Voice

A few years ago at an after 5k race party, on a summer Sunday afternoon, I heard a great band playing in the parking lot of that bar.  The lead singing was AMAZING!  And now, here she is, on TV! 

Kristen Merlin was on The Voice tonight.  She was doing an incredible job when her mic cut out!  NOT FAIR!  And she was doing so great too.  I was yelling at my TV.  Just not right. 

SO here is a way to help.  I already downloaded her song, Stay, from iTunes which counts more than any other votes.  And it is SO good, so please go onto iTunes to get the song!!

Other ways to vote?

Worst Case

I read something online the other day that originally came from a private facebook group for survivors.  The question was asked, "how long does it take before I jump to worst case whenever anything happens?"  Good question.  I know I'm not there yet. 

A little while ago I looked down at my right hand and it was swollen.  Great.  Lymphedema again.  After looking further up my arm, I have a weird pea sized bump.  Inside my arm, near where they take blood, but about an inch down my forearm, sort of in a vein.  Awesome.  I have an appointment today for a massage at Dana Farber's integrative therapies, so I'll have it checked out then.  But its still scary. 

On top of the little bumps or bruises that could easily end up being something normal, there are the stories I hear.  A friend I met at a conference last fall, who did chemo first, then surgery in early January.  She was half way through radiation when more cancer was discovered in her liver. 

She is a few years older than me, married with 2 young boys under 5.  She has this wonderful family who loves her so much.  Why?  Why more aggressive cancer spreading?  That's not right and its not fair!  And its SO scary.

It could be me.  Why isn't it me?  I'm not married.  I don't even have a boyfriend anymore.  I don't have any kids.  Why it is her? 

I don't have a job.  My boyfriend broke up with me.  I've lost touch with so many friends.  I'm struggling to figure things out in my life.  All I know is that right now I'm not happy with where I'm at. 

Why did I get through treatment to end up here?  What's so special about me? 

I hear about women my age, moms, with little kids who are depending on them, who have recurrences.  Why?  Why is cancer so aggressive in women my age? 

I know I have a high risk of recurrence, even with a bilateral mastectomy.  It had already spread to my lymph nodes by the time I had surgery.   Whenever anything happens, its hard to think it could be anything else.  Especially when I hear of others having things spread. 

Changing Tides

I didn't think I would let this go for as long as I did.  I've been writing in a journal trying to.... I don't even know. 

Things with Jim were horrible for a while, and I guess they still are.  At this point I would just like to keep our friendship going but I'm not sure that is even possible anymore.  We fight pretty much every single day.  I'll be moving soon and after that, I doubt we'll see each other anymore.

Back in January, on the 29th, I had my final reconstruction surgery.  It went really well.  My plastic surgeon said I'm not a candidate for nipple reconstruction at this point, because of all of the damage from radiation.  The surgery was a bit longer than expected because she tried to clean up the damage. 

I may end up getting 3D nipple tattoos but I have to wait until I heal more from surgery.  So far thing look great and I finally got the okay to start exercising a few weeks ago!  I made it back to kickboxing last week.  It kicked my butt but I was SO happy to be there!

Jim had agreed to let me get through surgery before I had to move.  In February I really started looking.  I thought I found this one place, and was pretty much planning on moving there for March 1st but she ended up changing her mind on allowing pets.  That put me back to square one and I started looking again in early March.

Around that same time, I got a call from work followed by an email a couple of weeks later.  I had asked who I would be working for, what I would be doing and said that I would need to ease back into work, instead of going from 0 hours to 40 hours.  The response I got was that I would be in a department that required full time and since I said I could only work part time (those words never came out of my mouth), my last day of active employment would be considered February 28th, until I reported to work before then.  Oh yeah, and they asked for $5000 for my insurance premium that they had carried. 

I applied on Mass Health Connector, Obamacare.  When I called, they said it was 2-4 weeks but they were running a bit behind.  I called again towards the end of February, but I still didn't have any answers.  The first week in March I sent in my check for Cobra coverage for the month of March.  The check was for $570 for one month of insurance. 

Early the next week I got a letter from Mass Health Connector.  Since they were running so far behind in processing my application, I was automatically temporarily enrolled in Mass Health.... free premium, no copays for doctor visits and most prescriptions are not more than $3.65.  (I had 2 monthly prescriptions with $45 copays each!).

Immediately I called my bank and put a stop pay on the $570 for Cobra.  Between that and the 2 prescriptions that saved me $660 a MONTH!  That's HUGE!!!  So that was a good thing.  Bad that I no longer have an option to go back to work but I have coverage right now and I'm not paying a huge premium. 

As that was going on, I kept checking out apartments in early March. I found a couple of places that I really liked, one more than the other.  But they are both pretty expensive and the disability wouldn't cover the rent, utilities and my other bills along with it.  I would have been out of money before putting gas in my car or buying any groceries. 

Then I called my 401K to close it out.  I knew there really wouldn't be any other options.  Most apartments were going to cost me close to $1500 a month.  I would need either 2-3 months down to move in.  Almost $5000?  Plus when I moved in with Jim I got rid of SO much furniture.  I don't have a sofa or any living room furniture.  I don't even have a TV anymore (but Jim said he would give me one of his at least)

I did all the online request to close out one of my 401k's.  I know it isn't the best decision for me in the long term.  I got hit pretty hard on taxes and I know I could face a penalty too (depending on what my medical expenses end up being in 2014.)  It was going to take a while to get the money and ended up taking a few weeks.  I didn't want to apply for the apartments until I actually had that money in my account.  It deposited last Monday afternoon.

Jim and I were still fighting all the time.  It was horrible.  I was a mess.  I knew I needed to just clear my head.  I started looking at places online for somewhere I could go for a few days.  I looked at yoga places, then started looking in the Florida Keys for pet friendly places to bring Stella with me.  Then it hit me.... a have a friend who moved to Florida last summer. 

I sent my friend Debbie a message on Facebook Monday night around 9pm. 

That offer for a visit still open?  You have any room for a visit in the near future or do you have other visiting?  I need to go SOMEWHERE for a few days and clear my head.  If I could, I'd leave tomorrow!!  LOL!  Just overwhelmed with life I guess. 

She responded an hour later and our conversation that night was:

Debbie: Anytime!  Come on down.

Me: I'm not kidding.  Like I could try to find a flight down within the next week or so!  What airport?  And how far from the airport are you?

D: Jacksonville International Airport.  I'm less than 30 minutes from the airport.  Jetblue is direct.

The next morning it started again:

Me: Okay!  I'm gonna check out flights and my calendar.  :)  And I have to double check with Jim that he'll watch Stella and the cats.

Debbie: Alright let me know.

Then it moved on to text messaging:

M: I'm not kidding about coming down.  I don't want to screw any of your plans.  This weekend or next weekend better?  I was thinking land on a Thursday night and fly home Monday morning early?  What do you think?

D: Book your flight- come this weekend.  I will take Friday off. 

M: Are you serious?  I will!  I'll wait to book until we are on the phone.

D: Call me

D: Did you book the flight?

M: Give me 10 minutes.

D:  Yea! 

M: Just booked!  I'll forward you my flight details!

D: Yea!  Can't wait!!

SO I left Boston around noon last Thursday to fly down to Jacksonville Beach for a few days to stay with Debbie.  It was nice to be at the beach, in the sun and warm weather, and to have a chance to be away and clear my head. 

Jim was so angry that I was going away.  We had a HUGE fight on Tuesday night when I told him I was going away.  HUGE!  We were fighting until I left, and every conversation we had while I was away.  Then when I got home yesterday, we fought some more. 

Things are at a very bad place with him and I.  I know that at this point it is best for me to move out as soon as I can. 

I still have a ton of doctor appointments and follow up with each different type of oncologist plus my plastic surgeon.  Its crazy!  I have one today too.  (another story about that) Tomorrow I have a phone call scheduled about getting additional benefits.  I'm going to call the apartment to see if I can head up on Thursday for them to meet Stella and for me to do the whole application.  Who knows, I could be out this weekend.  I'm hoping for a slower move than that, but we'll see how things are.  I'm sick of the fighting.  I can't do it anymore. 

Right now I'm sad that the relationship didn't survive cancer.  He gave up on me.  I moved in as I was being diagnosed.  I was a wreck.  My emotions were everywhere.  Then I had surgery, started chemo, lost my hair, lost friends, gained weight, lost my confidence, had side effects, started radiation, had another surgery, gained more weight.  Jim broke up with me.  Then I had another surgery. 

He waiting until I was done with treatment, then broke up with me.  He had enough.  He couldn't do it.  He was in care taker role too long and we never got past that.  He never gave me a chance to start to get back to me again, to gain my confidence, to exercise and to find myself.  He just gave up.  That hurts so much. 

He was my rock.  He was the one person who was ALWAYS there for me during all of it.  Friends let me down and left, but Jim was by my side.  He buzzed my head and colored my hair.  He emptied the drains for 2 different surgeries.  He took care of me in every single sense of the word.  He was my best friend and the one person in this world who I thought really really had my back. 

I love him with everything I have.  I still do.  I don't know how to shut that off.  Some days I wish I could.  It is a complete and unconditional love that I never imagined I could feel.  He knows that.  He knows how much I love him.

He tells me still that he loves me and that I'm his best friend (in between our fights).  He just doesn't feel it anymore.  I'm so confused about the way he acts and the things he says.  Some days he's an asshole, but then he lays with his arms around me, telling me he loves me and that he's going to have a really hard time when I move.  WTF!  Talk about mixed signals! 

He says it kills him because he knows how much I love him.  That I am a great person and the nicest person he knows.  I am his best friend.  But he needs space and this is all too much for him.  But he loves me and he wants us to still spend time together.  And who knows what the future holds.  And blah blah blah blah blah! 

At this point, I have to do what's best for me.  That's why I wanted to get away for a few days.  I wanted to clear my head and figure out how I was feeling, away from Jim. 

I want to finish my credits to renew my group fitness certification.  I want to then go for my Health Coach Certification.  I want to live in the apartment that is my top choice, the old converted mill with 16 foot ceilings and 12 foot windows, and a gym with a climbing wall and yoga studio and a roof deck on the building plus a fenced in area for dogs.  I want to exercise again and gain back my strength, energy and focus.  I want to gain confidence again and believe in myself again.  I want to like who I am again.  I want to feel comfortable in my own skin again.  I want to laugh and be happy and have fun. 

Now its time for me to move forward.  I am moving in a new direction now.  I have absolutely no idea what my life will look like in 2 months from now.  None.  That scares the hell out of me!  But I'm doing it anyway.  I have no choice, but I am still choosing to be okay with it. 

While I was sitting on the beach on Friday, I pulled out my journal.  I started writing about how I was feeling.  I had been tossed around in life, like the shells along the beach in the tide with waves.  As waves hit, it would spin the shells in every direction, but eventually the shells landed softly and safely on the sand as the waves receded. 

That night I was out with Debbie doing a little shopping and checking out the sites.  I told her I wanted to buy something nice for myself, jewelry, to symbolize moving forward in my life.  A little while later, we happened to pass a Kay's Jewelry store and I asked Debbie if we could head in and take a peak. 

Kay's sells the "Open Hearts" collection.  I didn't know but they added another collection with it.  After seeing a necklace, reading a bit about it, I decided on one and bought it.  I loved the meaning and symbolizing. 

Then it hit me!  I had completely forgotten about what I had written about during the day at the beach.  The waves and the shells and the tide.  How it all related to my life.  I had tears in my eyes when I put it all together!!! 

The necklace I bought for myself was one of the "Waves collection".  It has little tiny sapphire and diamond chips swirling around in a dime size pendent. 

The open hearts waves collection has this description in their catalog by Jane Seymore:

"Life is like a wave- continuously building, cresting and releasing... always allowing for learning, connecting and revival.  The journey of an Open Heart is to welcome the waves with infinite possibilities for renewal, change and growth."

I thought that was the perfect thing to represent me moving forward in a new unknown direction in my life. 

Looking Up?

The past week and a half have been pretty good.  I'm almost afraid to say that things are slightly looking up for me.  Every time I think things are getting getting, I get pulled backwards again.  So I'm not getting too excited.

BUT... Jim and I are really getting along.  We are laughing again and having fun again.  Pressure is off and things have been okay.  I'm trying really hard to not lean on him as much as I was, for EVERYTHING.  That is really helping.

Last week was fun.  Monday-Thursday, I was out with friends 3 of those nights.  Dinner on Wednesday with Michelle was kind of what I needed to turn things around.  We haven't gotten together in way too long and it was so nice to catch up on absolutely everything, like the old days.  It was nice. 

This week, I started the LiveStrong Program at the YMCA.  Our first time was yesterday and I hopped on a treadmill.  I jogged for 10 1/2 minutes!  I was VERY proud of me!  I didn't think I could do that.  I haven't tried to do any running at all since I was in Puerto Rico, November of 2012!  So that is my starting point. 

I'm really looking forward to this program.  I think its what I need.  Free for 12 weeks, twice a week for the classes for the same group of 12 of us.  They hold us accountable and this is exactly what I need.  I'm really happy about it.  Hopefully from here, things will start to get better for me with my fitness and weight. 

Next week is going to be really busy for me.  I'm swimming 2 nights, have a Dana Farber support group before one of them, doing Paint Nite, and meeting my cousin for dinner.  I have plans Monday-Thursday night next week!  Plus I have a few things going on during the day too, including my pre-op on Tuesday. 

Tomorrow we have Jim's niece for the day.  She's an absolute doll and I'm really looking forward to it.  We'll be hitting the pool again and we are also going to go to a dog sledding event nearby.  She'll love that!  She loves hanging out with Uncle Jimmy and Auntie Julie.  :)

What else? 

Surgery.  In 12 days.  I'm trying hard to not be nervous about it, but I am.  Its another big step.  Reconstruction.  I'm excited that I'll finally have the rocks removed.  The expanders are so hard and with radiation, I have so much scar tissue in my right breast.  They are SO heavy and uncomfortable. 

I guess the best way to describe it, I feel like I'm wearing a tight bra after a LONG day.  ALL the time.  I take a deep breath, and I can feel the muscles in my chest pull with the expanders.  NOT fun, not comfortable and not natural.  I'm looking forward to having more of a natural look and feel.  Right now my right breast has almost no give at all.  It's like poking a super over-filled rubber ball.  Not soft at all.  Not what I felt like before surgery at all.  So maybe this will bring me a bit close to where I was and a bit like natural breasts.  Who knows.  It can't be worse than they feel right now, so at least it will be a step up. 

So right now, I'm trying to feel positive.  I'm happy with the LiveStrong program and I'm hoping that it will continue.  I'm hoping that I'll get stronger and that I'll feel better about myself, how I look and that I'll gain some confidence along the way. 

OH!  I got two tattoos!  Last Friday.  The one year anniversary of the bilateral surgery.  It was a weird day for me emotionally.  I kept looking back at where I was.  What time of day it was, where was I a year earlier?  Was I still in surgery?  Was I in recovery? Which surgeon was working on me? 

Jim was great with me on Friday.  We drove up to my tattoo guy in NH.  Jim paid for them both, they were my Christmas presents from him.  First I got the one on my ribcage that Jim and I designed.  I told him everything that I wanted in the tattoo and I did research online, looking for images which were closest to what I wanted.  He took all of that and put it into one tattoo for me.  We emailed that to the tattoo guy and he tweaked it a bit for me and got the size right. 

When we were done with that tattoo, I said I wanted a second one, small, on my left wrist.  That one took less than 10 minutes to do!  And I love it. :)  I saw something that I liked, but I wanted more to it. 

I keep forgetting to have Jim take a picture of the one on my ribcage but here is the second one I got which is on the inside of my left wrist.

And It Continues

I'm still not in a great place emotionally, no matter how much I try.  Monday night, after I wrote, I ended up having a panic attack and then had insomnia that night. 

My plan had been to go to kickboxing yesterday morning, but Jim had a flat tire and needed to take my car to work.  I figured I would just go to the evening class instead of the morning class.  That didn't end up happening either.

Overall lately, I haven't been feeling right.  A couple of weeks ago I just got so weak, I couldn't even stand up anymore.  I was sitting on the floor in the middle of the kitchen, flopped over because I couldn't even hold up my head.  Jim had to help me up and he helped me into bed.  Since then, on and off, I'll feel lightheaded, dizzy and/or weak. 

Last night I started to feel all of it again.  I got up to walk to the bedroom and ended up passing out on my way.  Jim had to help me and he got me onto the sofa. 

I think part of it may be anxiety, I don't know.  I get so overwhelmed that I think my body just shuts down.  It could also have something to do with the muscle tension in my back, shoulders, neck & jaw.  Those are worse and the headaches are getting worse too. 

Something has to give.  Soon.  I hit my max over a month ago and the hits just keep on coming. 

I know I need to get out of my own head.  I know that's a huge part of my problem.  The anxiety gets so out of control.  I see the worse case of everything and worry about it happening.  My body is reacting to all of the stress I'm just thinking about.  I'm not sleeping... last night I might have gotten 3 hours. 

I'm physically, mentally and emotionally spent.  I have nothing left in me. 

New Year

It has been a while since I last wrote.  I guess so much has been on my mind it has been hard to get it all out.  Things haven't been easy over the past couple of months for me.

With New Year, I'm trying to be more positive, but that isn't always easy for me.  I have gotten so overwhelmed with so many things happening all at once and sometimes it is hard to know which way to turn.  And reaching out for help isn't something I am comfortable doing at this point. 

Right now I am 30 pounds heavier than I was when I was diagnosed.  I still have absolutely no energy.  One day out takes another to recover.  I have 0 confidence and 0 self esteem right now.  But what I lack there, I more than make up for with the level of anxiety I have. 

Things with Jim haven't been easy.  He has taken care of me physically, financially and emotionally.  I have put so much pressure on him to make up for the confidence I don't have in myself, and I know that isn't fair.  Add in the pressure he has at his job, and things are not easy with us. 

I hate being like this.  I hate feeling like this.  I don't know if there was ever a time I had so little confidence in myself.  Nothing fits me.  Whenever I get ready to go anywhere, I have a breakdown.  I hate what I see in the mirror.  I'm feel like a fat, scarred freak. 

I'm broke.  After adding up expected copays for just January and February, it is over $900.  If it wasn't for Jim, I couldn't make ends meet each month.  There is no way I could afford to live on my own without Jim.  That scares the hell out of me, especially with how tough things have been between him and I.  I really don't know what I would do. 

Then other friendships.  The lost ones.  Some friends have said that they have been busy with work and everything else and they say that is why they haven't had time to get together.  Sometimes they are even too busy to reply to emails.  But then I hear how this one and that one are getting together and see things posted online.  So I can take them at their word, that they are too busy to get together or reply and that means that I'm just not even thought of at all when they do have time to get together with other people.  Or, its intentional.  Either way, it sucks.

Every day I have a goal to not cry but most days I can't meet that goal.  I feel so sad and so down all the time.  I'm scared.  I don't know where I'm going.  I feel like I'm in a boat, lost and drifting, with no land in sight. 

I feel like I'm fake.  When I see people, I put on a happy face.  Everyone thinks I'm doing great.  Then I get home and I break down and lose it. 

The massage therapist I see at Dana Farber keeps asking me what I'm stressed about.  My shoulders and back have gotten even worse.  The knots I feel, she can't even get to because there are layers of knots over them.  Layers.  Right now I'm so sore, even in my jaw.  I've always held tension in my shoulders.  Now things are so out of control, it is more than my back at that is suffering. 

She is surprised that I don't have loss of feeling in my hands because of how much the knots are pushing on my nerves.  She thinks that why I have headaches, jaw pain and weakness in my hands. 

It is hard for me to reach out.  I'm not in a good enough place emotionally to handle any rejection at all.  I'm afraid.  So I put on the happy face and pretend.