Pages

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Out of Control

My drug use has caught up with me.

My doctor knows, and he was being all discreet about it until I needed him at my hearing today, and then he made his views public. He saw the needle marks, he knew that I had been visiting Byron, he knew that I had done meth. It's becoming out of control again. I never had infected needle marks on my arms, though. That part that he told was a lie.

Anyone know why Blogger is double posting my posts? It's really annoying.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Fallen Angel

An excerpt from comatised:

On Thursday I fell from grace. I'd like to say that there was too much pressure and that I just couldn't control myself, but that would be a lie. I consciously went out and did what I did and I hate myself for doing it. I hate that I took our money that was supposed to be for other things and bought that poison. I hate that I left my phone at home so that I couldn't be reached to be talked out of what I was doing. I worried Dennis and he nearly called the police. I knew if I heard his voice asking where I had gone, I would turn around and come home. I didn't want to come home. I didn't want to hear his voice. I just wanted the release of heroin and that's what I went after.

The new guy selling as a much more potent batch than Byron. Byron sold a cheaper, sleezier batch, but this guy sells a batch so strong that one sees fuzzy tan blankets over their eyes. It was hard to stumble to my car, but I was able to do so. The new guy also is far more afraid to sell to those who don't use. Use in front of him, or you can't buy from him. I'm secretly glad that I chose to use in front of him, rather than bring it home and have to hide it for a few hours until Dennis fell asleep and Zinnia stopped crying for the night.

The drive home was interesting. The tan blanket was gone by the time I reached the car. I was seeing sparks, waves in front of my eyes. Lights, puddles, the moon, they all reflected that light in front of my eyes. I wasn't light headed, but I was dizzy. The world was moving at a normal speed, so I felt I was safe to drive. I've driven home waaaay more tipsy than that before. In a way, I wasn't really high. I felt good, but I felt better than when I was high the last time.

The morning after, I hated myself. I made excuses for myself and then immediately hated myself some more. The morning after, there was no excuse for what I had done. Worried my family, lied, "borrowed" the car without anyone knowing. I want to say that I had fun, but I can't even convince myself that I did that. I am just weak. I cannot beat this, and I'm beginning to think that I never will. That I will always be like this, sneaky, sick and generally a weirdo, after one thing. Jimmy was right about me. I'll never change, and at the rate I am going, I will never have anyone close to me because of it.
An excerpt from comatised:

On Thursday I fell from grace. I'd like to say that there was too much pressure and that I just couldn't control myself, but that would be a lie. I consciously went out and did what I did and I hate myself for doing it. I hate that I took our money that was supposed to be for other things and bought that poison. I hate that I left my phone at home so that I couldn't be reached to be talked out of what I was doing. I worried Dennis and he nearly called the police. I knew if I heard his voice asking where I had gone, I would turn around and come home. I didn't want to come home. I didn't want to hear his voice. I just wanted the release of heroin and that's what I went after.

The new guy selling as a much more potent batch than Byron. Byron sold a cheaper, sleezier batch, but this guy sells a batch so strong that one sees fuzzy tan blankets over their eyes. It was hard to stumble to my car, but I was able to do so. The new guy also is far more afraid to sell to those who don't use. Use in front of him, or you can't buy from him. I'm secretly glad that I chose to use in front of him, rather than bring it home and have to hide it for a few hours until Dennis fell asleep and Zinnia stopped crying for the night.

The drive home was interesting. The tan blanket was gone by the time I reached the car. I was seeing sparks, waves in front of my eyes. Lights, puddles, the moon, they all reflected that light in front of my eyes. I wasn't light headed, but I was dizzy. The world was moving at a normal speed, so I felt I was safe to drive. I've driven home waaaay more tipsy than that before. In a way, I wasn't really high. I felt good, but I felt better than when I was high the last time.

The morning after, I hated myself. I made excuses for myself and then immediately hated myself some more. The morning after, there was no excuse for what I had done. Worried my family, lied, "borrowed" the car without anyone knowing. I want to say that I had fun, but I can't even convince myself that I did that. I am just weak. I cannot beat this, and I'm beginning to think that I never will. That I will always be like this, sneaky, sick and generally a weirdo, after one thing. Jimmy was right about me. I'll never change, and at the rate I am going, I will never have anyone close to me because of it.

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Fentanyl No More

On August 4, 2013 (I think) I stopped using Fentanyl. It made my arms feel all weird at first, but I really believe that I made the right choice on stopping all narcotics. Even if my back is killing me, even if I have long term withdrawals.

I got a phone call tonight from a friend who had his gall bladder out, and he took the entire bottle of pain killers. No worrying; he's opioid intolerant like me, and the pills were low dose. After throwing up, because of the Acetaminophen in them, and after the hallucinations, he felt high. For a few moments, I wanted to feel that high as well, but I can't do that anymore. I have a life that drugs have no place in anymore. Dennis is completely supportive of me stopping all drug use, even if it means I have to physically suffer for a short period of time.

I also unwillingly gave up coffee. I haven't had a cup since June. I think it was harder to give up than the narcotics. I don't feel any better, I just feel. If that makes sense.

Friday I am going through another cancer treatment. My cancer is in my kidney and it's inoperable. I worry that it has spread and that's why I cannot have it operated on, and why I was given chemotherapy instead of other treatments. I don't like to think about my treatments. They leave me foggy and sleepy. I am offered all sorts of pain killers while I am in treatment, but I refuse them all the time.

I've about had it with Blogger. The paragraphs don't work, the posts repeat themselves in the same frame, I always get some ridiculous captcha that Blogger never recognises when I type it in. Normally, if I get the captcha wrong, Blogger eats my comment. I wish I could keep the same URL and just use WordPress on here. But it doesn't work that way. If I want to keep my URL (and I do!!) I have to use Blogger.

I'm breaking out in a cold sweat now, so I'm going to attempt to go to bed. How are you? Do you have any advice for me about the Blogger problem? Want to wish me well in treatment? Don't be afraid to comment. I love getting comments, and I love interacting with people!
On August 4, 2013 (I think) I stopped using Fentanyl. It made my arms feel all weird at first, but I really believe that I made the right choice on stopping all narcotics. Even if my back is killing me, even if I have long term withdrawals.

I got a phone call tonight from a friend who had his gall bladder out, and he took the entire bottle of pain killers. No worrying; he's opioid intolerant like me, and the pills were low dose. After throwing up, because of the Acetaminophen in them, and after the hallucinations, he felt high. For a few moments, I wanted to feel that high as well, but I can't do that anymore. I have a life that drugs have no place in anymore. Dennis is completely supportive of me stopping all drug use, even if it means I have to physically suffer for a short period of time.

I also unwillingly gave up coffee. I haven't had a cup since June. I think it was harder to give up than the narcotics. I don't feel any better, I just feel. If that makes sense.

Friday I am going through another cancer treatment. My cancer is in my kidney and it's inoperable. I worry that it has spread and that's why I cannot have it operated on, and why I was given chemotherapy instead of other treatments. I don't like to think about my treatments. They leave me foggy and sleepy. I am offered all sorts of pain killers while I am in treatment, but I refuse them all the time.

I've about had it with Blogger. The paragraphs don't work, the posts repeat themselves in the same frame, I always get some ridiculous captcha that Blogger never recognises when I type it in. Normally, if I get the captcha wrong, Blogger eats my comment. I wish I could keep the same URL and just use WordPress on here. But it doesn't work that way. If I want to keep my URL (and I do!!) I have to use Blogger.

I'm breaking out in a cold sweat now, so I'm going to attempt to go to bed. How are you? Do you have any advice for me about the Blogger problem? Want to wish me well in treatment? Don't be afraid to comment. I love getting comments, and I love interacting with people!

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Outage


We lost power three hours ago. It could be another three hours before we get out power back on. It's hot and muggy outside, but there wasn't much choice when it comes to opening the windows or roast with them closed. Thank God we have screens; Mosquitos are trying their damnedest to get in for a meal.

I tried to stay awake through my entire sleepiness episode, but I accomplished nothing. I couldn't take notes, but at least I didn't lose my memory in trying to stay awake. One thing that was interesting is that I had random numbness and weakness from the neck down. Strange, and at the time scary as hell! I wish my (asshole!) doctor would see me. He temporarily banned me because I owed him $20 and I didn't have the cash on me Tuesday. The University has offered to give me a $600 per-paid Visa to help on my bill, from what i owed before i got insurance, if only my doctor will accept it. There's no reason why he should not accept it, other than being an asshole.

Going to sleep some more. I just can't get enough.

We lost power three hours ago. It could be another three hours before we get out power back on. It's hot and muggy outside, but there wasn't much choice when it comes to opening the windows or roast with them closed. Thank God we have screens; Mosquitos are trying their damnedest to get in for a meal.

I tried to stay awake through my entire sleepiness episode, but I accomplished nothing. I couldn't take notes, but at least I didn't lose my memory in trying to stay awake. One thing that was interesting is that I had random numbness and weakness from the neck down. Strange, and at the time scary as hell! I wish my (asshole!) doctor would see me. He temporarily banned me because I owed him $20 and I didn't have the cash on me Tuesday. The University has offered to give me a $600 per-paid Visa to help on my bill, from what i owed before i got insurance, if only my doctor will accept it. There's no reason why he should not accept it, other than being an asshole.

Going to sleep some more. I just can't get enough.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Severely Sleepless

I'm severely tired again. Back to where I can't get enough sleep. I don't understand why I am so tired that I just want to sleep for days and days. Any ideas?

No stars for me tonight. We're getting rain and cloudiness for the entire week, and as long as it keeps the heat down, I'm all for it! I can't stand the super heat.

To I am going to give Dennis a little early Father's Day present from me. ;) The kids want to make the cake tonight, so if I can stay awake for longer than fifteen minutes at a time, I would love to bake a cake. Maybe that will get my mind off of things, get my mind on other things. Later on tonight, Dennis and I are going to another Couples' Club party. I really like these parties.

For the first time in years, I got to go to the water park! I never thought I would be able to go just for me, you know? No kids, no other family members, just Dennis and I, gliding over the calm, sparkling water of the Lazy River circle pool, to riding the wild waves of the Ocean Motion wave pool. I even down a huge slide! We had a blast, just the both of us, for my birthday. That may be why I'm so tired today. I know it's why all my muscles are sore. So sore that I had to pop a tizanidine when I first woke up this morning. By some miracle, AKA sun screen and sun block, I didn't get burned out there in the warm sun. I sure hated to leave, after spending three hours having so much fun. Coming home, I took a bath and collapsed into the bed. No cake and ice cream, didn't even open my presents or upload the water park pictures to Flickr, I was just so tired.

So today I get to open my presents, have some cake and ice cream, and have Happy Birthday sung to me. It's like my birthday is such a big event, it lasts two days!

I think the best present I got was Billy had officially left me alone for six months now. Six whole months of me not having to turn down his advancements. Ahh, peace is wonderful!

Have a fun and safe weekend! Smile! I insist!
I'm severely tired again. Back to where I can't get enough sleep. I don't understand why I am so tired that I just want to sleep for days and days. Any ideas?

No stars for me tonight. We're getting rain and cloudiness for the entire week, and as long as it keeps the heat down, I'm all for it! I can't stand the super heat.

To I am going to give Dennis a little early Father's Day present from me. ;) The kids want to make the cake tonight, so if I can stay awake for longer than fifteen minutes at a time, I would love to bake a cake. Maybe that will get my mind off of things, get my mind on other things. Later on tonight, Dennis and I are going to another Couples' Club party. I really like these parties.

For the first time in years, I got to go to the water park! I never thought I would be able to go just for me, you know? No kids, no other family members, just Dennis and I, gliding over the calm, sparkling water of the Lazy River circle pool, to riding the wild waves of the Ocean Motion wave pool. I even down a huge slide! We had a blast, just the both of us, for my birthday. That may be why I'm so tired today. I know it's why all my muscles are sore. So sore that I had to pop a tizanidine when I first woke up this morning. By some miracle, AKA sun screen and sun block, I didn't get burned out there in the warm sun. I sure hated to leave, after spending three hours having so much fun. Coming home, I took a bath and collapsed into the bed. No cake and ice cream, didn't even open my presents or upload the water park pictures to Flickr, I was just so tired.

So today I get to open my presents, have some cake and ice cream, and have Happy Birthday sung to me. It's like my birthday is such a big event, it lasts two days!

I think the best present I got was Billy had officially left me alone for six months now. Six whole months of me not having to turn down his advancements. Ahh, peace is wonderful!

Have a fun and safe weekend! Smile! I insist!

Friday, June 14, 2013

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

That Went Over Well

*Groans*

The domain that I purchased for this site is expiring in a week. A fucking week. I never used it. Ever. What a resourceful person I have become. My internet existence is next to nothing, all I do is constantly pump life into comatised, which I am certain that I probably won't even have a year from now, because it is expiring next month.

Why do I do this? Why do I start things and never follow through with them? Do you know how many commercial fonts I have on my computer that I have never used because I have started graphics and never finished them? Or just never followed through with them to begin with.

If anyone has any resources or encouragement for me, feel free to leave it. Lord knows, I need it.
*Groans*

The
domain that I purchased for this site is expiring in a week. A fucking week. I never used it. Ever. What a resourceful person I have become. My internet existence is next to nothing, all I do is constantly pump life into comatised, which I am certain that I probably won't even have a year from now, because it is expiring next month.

Why do I do this? Why do I start things and never follow through with them? Do you know how many commercial fonts I have on my computer that I have never used because I have started graphics and never finished them? Or just never followed through with them to begin with.

If anyone has any resources or encouragement for me, feel free to leave it. Lord knows, I need it.

Monday, April 29, 2013

Addiction and Motherhood

I'm working on my 21st mini novel, and the subject throughout it is motherhood and addictions. Addiction from prescription pain pills, heroine, cocaine, and alcohol.

Just a few days before Zinnia was born, I bought a bottle of red wine and had finished the bottle before I had gotten home. I went back and bought three more bottles. Only 1/2 a bottle survived to make it to my house.

I hate myself so much these days.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Fourteen Years


Today is my oldest daughter's Fourteenth Birthday.

Or it would be, if she were alive.

Poetry Rose died of a barbiturate overdose, just a dose and a half of what was prescribed for her, in the wee hours of the morning on May 20, 2009. She was ten years old.
Suffering from multiple tumors that were causing her severe pain, PoRo's doctor had told her father and I that chemotherapy would just prolong her suffering, and wrote us a prescription for her of high dose barbiturates, a dose so high that I once tried it and found myself sobbing and "out of body" for hours. The doctor informed us that if we tried to pursuit chemotherapy from another physician or cancer treatment center, he would personally report us to child services for child abuse. Our parents also threatened us with a report to child services if we did nothing and just let our daughter die.

It was a horrible time for me, for Dennis, for our family.

PoRo mimicked my medication taking. She had watched me take pain medication for a long, long time (since July of 2003), and she was certain if I did it, it had to be right. I was her hero, another mistake she made. In mimicking what I do many times with my invalid pain medications, she took just a half a dose higher than was recommended, and it killed her.

Her death was ruled an accident.

Dennis and I both turned ourselves in to the police after the paramedics took PoRo's body away. We blamed ourselves, and each other, at the same time. No charges were brought because PoRo had written in her journal hours before taking the fatal dose, that she had saw not only myself take multiple pain medicine pills, but her father usually over medicated, and so did her cousin Jess. We were all fine. She was never aware that medicine could be lethal, and if you died in this world, there's no reset button, and you don't get to come back. She thought she had super powers, as she thought the same about me, because she had beaten cancer three years before she died. I still cry for her because she died like an unwanted animal. With the same overdose they get. Except she wasn't an animal, and she wasn't unwanted. She was dearly loved and much wanted.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of her and the situation, and how tragic it turned out. There are many days that I wonder if there was something I could have done differently, that would make her alive to this day. When she was seven, she had several tumors removed from her breast, and was given a clean bill of health after six months. But the cancer came back. It has a nasty, bad habit of doing that. I was happy when Chloe's tumors were declared benign. I don't think I could live through another innocent life being sick, weakened by a disease that is almost always fatal.

Because they were the best of friends on this Earth, in this Life, PoRo and Jess were interred next to one another, so their spirits need not wander too far to be together again.

Every February 25th since her death, I make a birthday cake for dessert at dinner time. I made one this year. As a tributing tradition, we, as a family, all blow out the candles on the cake at the same time. My hope is that she will be remembered because of this tradition.

I'd also like to point out, even though it is irrelevant in this whole thing, that a freak from the far ends of the web harassed me to tears over me taking extra pain medication for my severe pain. They mocked me, telling me that my kids were going to get into my medicine and die from drug overdoses. That person was not right. In both telling me that I was this apathetic bitch who partied down on prescription pain killer, and in accusing me of not caring for my kids. I care for my family. Just because I don't update my blog every day with how much I love and cherish them doesn't mean that I do not feel it, that I do not care for them. I don't know where that person (or her other two personalities are, the ones that pretended to be my friend(s) to get info out of me) is now, but if she does want to come mock me for her being "right" I really don't care. I don't have to let her comments through. And I can ban her second set of IPs as well.



Oh, and if he were alive, George Harrison would be 70 today.

Today is my oldest daughter's Fourteenth Birthday.

Or it would be, if she were alive.

Poetry Rose died of a barbiturate overdose, just a dose and a half of what was prescribed for her, in the wee hours of the morning on May 20, 2009. She was ten years old.
Suffering from multiple tumors that were causing her severe pain, PoRo's doctor had told her father and I that chemotherapy would just prolong her suffering, and wrote us a prescription for her of high dose barbiturates, a dose so high that I once tried it and found myself sobbing and "out of body" for hours. The doctor informed us that if we tried to pursuit chemotherapy from another physician or cancer treatment center, he would personally report us to child services for child abuse. Our parents also threatened us with a report to child services if we did nothing and just let our daughter die.

It was a horrible time for me, for Dennis, for our family.

PoRo mimicked my medication taking. She had watched me take pain medication for a long, long time (since July of 2003), and she was certain if I did it, it had to be right. I was her hero, another mistake she made. In mimicking what I do many times with my invalid pain medications, she took just a half a dose higher than was recommended, and it killed her.

Her death was ruled an accident.

Dennis and I both turned ourselves in to the police after the paramedics took PoRo's body away. We blamed ourselves, and each other, at the same time. No charges were brought because PoRo had written in her journal hours before taking the fatal dose, that she had saw not only myself take multiple pain medicine pills, but her father usually over medicated, and so did her cousin Jess. We were all fine. She was never aware that medicine could be lethal, and if you died in this world, there's no reset button, and you don't get to come back. She thought she had super powers, as she thought the same about me, because she had beaten cancer three years before she died. I still cry for her because she died like an unwanted animal. With the same overdose they get. Except she wasn't an animal, and she wasn't unwanted. She was dearly loved and much wanted.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of her and the situation, and how tragic it turned out. There are many days that I wonder if there was something I could have done differently, that would make her alive to this day. When she was seven, she had several tumors removed from her breast, and was given a clean bill of health after six months. But the cancer came back. It has a nasty, bad habit of doing that. I was happy when Chloe's tumors were declared benign. I don't think I could live through another innocent life being sick, weakened by a disease that is almost always fatal.

Because they were the best of friends on this Earth, in this Life, PoRo and Jess were interred next to one another, so their spirits need not wander too far to be together again.

Every February 25th since her death, I make a birthday cake for dessert at dinner time. I made one this year. As a tributing tradition, we, as a family, all blow out the candles on the cake at the same time. My hope is that she will be remembered because of this tradition.

I'd also like to point out, even though it is irrelevant in this whole thing, that a freak from the far ends of the web harassed me to tears over me taking extra pain medication for my severe pain. They mocked me, telling me that my kids were going to get into my medicine and die from drug overdoses. That person was not right. In both telling me that I was this apathetic bitch who partied down on prescription pain killer, and in accusing me of not caring for my kids. I care for my family. Just because I don't update my blog every day with how much I love and cherish them doesn't mean that I do not feel it, that I do not care for them. I don't know where that person (or her other two personalities are, the ones that pretended to be my friend(s) to get info out of me) is now, but if she does want to come mock me for her being "right" I really don't care. I don't have to let her comments through. And I can ban her second set of IPs as well.



Oh, and if he were alive, George Harrison would be 70 today.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

All In A Domain

I have a couple of domains that are offline right now because the server they are hosted on really sucks. I mean that in a strictly nice way, btw. I love the people who host me, but their server goes down right when I want to write the most.

I have a Dreamhost account, where I host my third site, and my .nu.

My issue: The person who registered the domains for me back in 1999 and 2001 has since died, and his account went to his partner, who has refused six transfer requests from me since 2004. I don't want to give up the domains because everything is connected to them. To have an email address for fourteen years, and then just have it gone, would be a little bit of over-kill for me.

Then there's my writings since 2000, my themes, some of which are paid themes, my plugins, my files from before my site was WP hosted, and other silly things that I just haven't had time to flush from the server, as well as some email addresses that don't belong to me with mail in them from people who have since passed away.

In other words, my life for the past fourteen years, well-documented with interactions, is on this server.

I plan to fully back everything up, and the domains are registered in my name. My problem is, I need to know if there is a way I can get my domain names legally. I have been nice, I have been patient, for nine years. I am responsible with my domain names, and I think I can handle two more.

Any advice?

If I cannot acquire these names by the middle of the year, I will simply stop using them.
I have a couple of domains that are offline right now because the server they are hosted on really sucks. I mean that in a strictly nice way, btw. I love the people who host me, but their server goes down right when I want to write the most.

I have a Dreamhost account, where I host my third site, and my .nu.

My issue: The person who registered the domains for me back in 1999 and 2001 has since died, and his account went to his partner, who has refused six transfer requests from me since 2004. I don't want to give up the domains because everything is connected to them. To have an email address for fourteen years, and then just have it gone, would be a little bit of over-kill for me.

Then there's my writings since 2000, my themes, some of which are paid themes, my plugins, my files from before my site was WP hosted, and other silly things that I just haven't had time to flush from the server, as well as some email addresses that don't belong to me with mail in them from people who have since passed away.

In other words, my life for the past fourteen years, well-documented with interactions, is on this server.

I plan to fully back everything up, and the domains are registered in my name. My problem is, I need to know if there is a way I can get my domain names legally. I have been nice, I have been patient, for nine years. I am responsible with my domain names, and I think I can handle two more.

Any advice?

If I cannot acquire these names by the middle of the year, I will simply stop using them.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Fuck You, Cancer


Fuck you cancer, for this:
And this:
And this:
On January 2end, I discovered two lumps under Dennis' right arm. On January 6th, they were still there. Upon some inspection today, they are still there. I found a total of four. When he asked me what that meant, I replied that there was a good chance he would be losing his lymph node from surgery. Metastatic cancer to the lymph nodes is what our oldest daughter died from. It is what made her cancer immune to radiation and chemotherapy because it had already spread so far. Stage IV. Started in her breast.

Dennis insists that he's been cancer-free since 1985. But cancer is an asshole like that. It doesn't care if you've got a family, if you want to live to see them grow up, if you love your life, if you want to live. Cancer is sneaky. It hides for a few years until you feel that you're finally safe and that nothing can hurt you again, that your suffering is over and you'll never have to protect yourself again.

We met up at a cafe to talk. I told him what had happened between his friend and I, and that I would be staying with one of my friends until our house guest left. Our guest is insistant on staying until the portraits and filming is ready for editing. I just can't stomach living with him anymore. Dennis told me that he had no idea that I felt that way, and said he was going to put our guest up in a hotel for the remaining time that he is here. I smiled at the thought. Going home. It's really what I want to do. The conversation turned to the lumps I had felt, and what it could possibly mean. Dennis is certain the lumps are just some gland swelling. I told him that I hoped he was right.

Of all the things I left unsaid in the conversation, on thing I was able to say through the lump in my throat, through the tingling in my nose, through the watery eyes, was that I couldn't do it alone. I couldn't keep our family together alone. Dennis said I have done some amazing jobs while he's on the road, but that is different. If he were to never be coming back, and I knew this for certain, I couldn't do it. I couldn't go on. I would disintegrate in the bedroom, surrounded by my own sense of self-worthlessness. When we said our vows, I took in sickness and in health to heart. For years, Dennis has been there for me while I was sick, and I am not going to abandon him now, but the death do us part is not something I assumed I would ever have to face. Damn my situation and the thoughts racing through my head. With all the things going through my mind, I have to force myself to not think about this.

We have a doctor appointment set for the 25th. I wonder if our family doctor could pick a later date? After all, time is what feeds cancer. Time is what gives it its power. Time is what a patient does not have enough of.
But maybe everything will be alright, and I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill. After all, my harasser says that I like to dramatise my life to make people feel sorry for me. Of  course I do. That's why I don't openly ask for money on my site, or steal photos of gorgeous women, like she does. One thing that amuses me - my harasser has a "dying woman" site online that I have yet to publicly post. I know she's not the person in the photos, since she never posts her real image on  her SEND ME MONEY! scam sites, but I need to find the identity of the woman in the photos before I comment on it publicly. If anyone can help, my email address is right over there.
Back to my situation.

I have faith. I have faith that Dennis will be okay, that this is just a plugged gland, or a series of pimples, boils, I'd even go for MRSA colonies at this point, because those are all things he can survive from, relatively painlessly.
I have hope. I have hope that I won't be left alone to face the world without the one who loves me, that I won't have to find someone else, not that I ever could, and hope that our children won't have to face the world without their father, whom they all love very much. Especially Chloe. She loves her daddy more than anyone else, and she'd do anything for him.

On top of that, I have fear. I can hope and pray for the best, but fear the worst. Fear normally prepares me for the worst and gets me through it. There is no getting over what I am about to embark on, if the worst should happen. There is no consoling my heart if the worst is my fate. There is no hope for me, if my world should come crashing down. There is just fear, pain and emptiness. Three things I don't want to spend the rest of my life going through.

Fuck you cancer, for this:
And this:
And this:
On January 2end, I discovered two lumps under Dennis' right arm. On January 6th, they were still there. Upon some inspection today, they are still there. I found a total of four. When he asked me what that meant, I replied that there was a good chance he would be losing his lymph node from surgery. Metastatic cancer to the lymph nodes is what our oldest daughter died from. It is what made her cancer immune to radiation and chemotherapy because it had already spread so far. Stage IV. Started in her breast.

Dennis insists that he's been cancer-free since 1985. But cancer is an asshole like that. It doesn't care if you've got a family, if you want to live to see them grow up, if you love your life, if you want to live. Cancer is sneaky. It hides for a few years until you feel that you're finally safe and that nothing can hurt you again, that your suffering is over and you'll never have to protect yourself again.

We met up at a cafe to talk. I told him what had happened between his friend and I, and that I would be staying with one of my friends until our house guest left. Our guest is insistant on staying until the portraits and filming is ready for editing. I just can't stomach living with him anymore. Dennis told me that he had no idea that I felt that way, and said he was going to put our guest up in a hotel for the remaining time that he is here. I smiled at the thought. Going home. It's really what I want to do. The conversation turned to the lumps I had felt, and what it could possibly mean. Dennis is certain the lumps are just some gland swelling. I told him that I hoped he was right.

Of all the things I left unsaid in the conversation, on thing I was able to say through the lump in my throat, through the tingling in my nose, through the watery eyes, was that I couldn't do it alone. I couldn't keep our family together alone. Dennis said I have done some amazing jobs while he's on the road, but that is different. If he were to never be coming back, and I knew this for certain, I couldn't do it. I couldn't go on. I would disintegrate in the bedroom, surrounded by my own sense of self-worthlessness. When we said our vows, I took in sickness and in health to heart. For years, Dennis has been there for me while I was sick, and I am not going to abandon him now, but the death do us part is not something I assumed I would ever have to face. Damn my situation and the thoughts racing through my head. With all the things going through my mind, I have to force myself to not think about this.

We have a doctor appointment set for the 25th. I wonder if our family doctor could pick a later date? After all, time is what feeds cancer. Time is what gives it its power. Time is what a patient does not have enough of.
But maybe everything will be alright, and I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill. After all, my harasser says that I like to dramatise my life to make people feel sorry for me. Of  course I do. That's why I don't openly ask for money on my site, or steal photos of gorgeous women, like she does. One thing that amuses me - my harasser has a "dying woman" site online that I have yet to publicly post. I know she's not the person in the photos, since she never posts her real image on  her SEND ME MONEY! scam sites, but I need to find the identity of the woman in the photos before I comment on it publicly. If anyone can help, my email address is right over there.
Back to my situation.

I have faith. I have faith that Dennis will be okay, that this is just a plugged gland, or a series of pimples, boils, I'd even go for MRSA colonies at this point, because those are all things he can survive from, relatively painlessly.
I have hope. I have hope that I won't be left alone to face the world without the one who loves me, that I won't have to find someone else, not that I ever could, and hope that our children won't have to face the world without their father, whom they all love very much. Especially Chloe. She loves her daddy more than anyone else, and she'd do anything for him.

On top of that, I have fear. I can hope and pray for the best, but fear the worst. Fear normally prepares me for the worst and gets me through it. There is no getting over what I am about to embark on, if the worst should happen. There is no consoling my heart if the worst is my fate. There is no hope for me, if my world should come crashing down. There is just fear, pain and emptiness. Three things I don't want to spend the rest of my life going through.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...