This Week...The Blues


I haven't posted for a few extra days.  It has been an emotional week for me.  I don't know why my feelings ebb and flow so strangely.  There is no rhyme or reason for when I get the blues.  When I have these affecting setbacks, I lose all motivation for work, writing and life.  The melancholy usually stays for an unwanted visit around five to seven days until I muster the energy to boot it out the door and get on with things.

My daughter is struggling for her life.  Just typing that sentence makes my eyes well with tears.  It breaks my heart to see her so ill and her joy seems to be slipping away.  She is not who she was and I don't know if she will come back the same.  Cancer robs our innocence and wonder.  It strips excitement for future plans and dreams and makes daily living a thing to get through, until the fight, pain and worry are gone. But there is no set time with Cancer, and the battle seems never ending.  I hate that it is hurting my baby and I would do anything to trade places with her.  I long to make it go away and would love to kick its ass.  I am reminded constantly of my love, who fought so valiantly, only to lose and leave me.  I am scared but dare not show it.

At first, I refused to believe that she would ever succumb to any effects it would have on her and that's what got me through the initial diagnosis.  But as time goes on, and she struggles daily with drugs and their side effects, I wrestle with my previously strong convictions that it will all pass easily and quickly.  My hope for less suffering has faded away leaving on and off despair and worry for her future.

I have a hole in my heart.  One that opened up when Dean passed then grew with my child's illness. It is still wide open and doesn't feel like it will heal any time soon.  How do I live with this gaping wound inside me that is not tangible?

My grief has moved in with me and seems it is here to stay indefinitely, for so many different reasons.  My misery feels selfish.  Who am I to suffer any negative feelings when my daughter's conflict is so much more.   But my stream of consciousness flits from being positive and grateful to sad and overwhelmed like a game of ping pong ball. The highs and lows of my present are a constant challenge.  I have to know that my daughter will persevere and I can only look forward to the day when she feels strong, vibrant and healthy while playing with her grandchildren.

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