I think about it all the time. I think about it daily. Sometimes I think I obsess about it.
It follows me like a dark cloud trying to rain on me. It's like a deep ocean that I am not willing to drown in.
It scares me.
I hate it.
I worry all the time about every cough I get. I worry I will find a lump or bump somewhere. I worry that I will hear the words..the cancer is back.
I think about my body being a mine field. What will be destroyed next?
When will the other shoe drop?
Did it already drop since I have had cancer twice?
Will my girls have a mom? Will they have to watch something horrific happen to me?
Will A have to raise our girls alone?
Death wants to swallow me and I won't let it.
I think about this all the time Every fucking day and I HATE it.
HATE. IT.
3 comments:
Hi,
I just discovered your blog yesterday and became a follower (your only one, I noticed :O)), because I like the way you write. Thank you for sharing these intense feelings; I can only imagine that it's not easy for you. I will keep you in my prayers.
Lisa
oh Maria... here come the tears, after reading your post. It is my dirty little secret too, how much I obsess about death. Sometimes I don't know how I got to work, somehow my car found it's way to the parking lot, after I once again spent the entire commute thinking about cancer. death is Frank the nasty bunny from Donnie Darko, always with me. always. I'm sick of this shit. Maris I'm so sorry. I'm just... so sorry.
your NWYS sister,
Katie
There with you. Sat outside last night and talked to my grandparents, both dead, about what I can expect after I die. To give me some peace of mind. Nobody our ages spends so much time dealing with the beast. It fucking sucks.
But, I love you to bits and pieces and I'm with you in the trenches, my soul-mate.
xoxo
Anna
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