You have cancer, but can't have the right treatment

This makes me SO angry- people can't be restricted to treatment types based on the location they live!

It's disgusting.

Boldylocks

Hair for happiness. How bold.

Headstands in the hallway

A sip of coffee to kick start it all, like a new deep breath.

I get chest pains, a lot. It's because I forget to breathe. Last night I slept the best I have in about four weeks. A deep dream-esque fulfillment of visions too quirky to say out loud-I could write about them, though I'm sure certain names could not be mentioned for those that appeared in it. Twisted.

It feels like there is hot acid over my heart, like my lungs have collapsed and pipes have become way too thin. My body this week has felt weak and I don't like it hate it. Strains I cause myself from toss turning sleep patterns, and functions my body has got worse at. It's all because of stress.

Everyday becomes about food and what I must consume to function. What I must eat to feel normal, have energy, look the right size so the next day I don't inflate two sizes bigger and look pregnant, feel pregnant. To feel uglier. Avoid the comfort eating to fill the void. To at least, stay sane.

A week filled of relationship mess. I hear of friends, who drink every night just to continue and we all laugh. It's not a laughing matter really, especially when I saw mum drink a bottle every night and hide it down the side of the sofa, just in case the doorbell rang. 'I was so embarrassed' she once said to me. She knew it wasn't right too, and to have her beg me to go to the shop when she was too ill to drive-it was the last straw for daughter.

I saw the one that broke me. You could say I broke him too. Our constant drives at each other, striving for perfection in one another-though really we knew it never existed between us. Perfection never exists when there are two people, three, in love. And then to have that other life rubbed in my face again, to attempt to shut me up and reduce the challenge. Go Fuck Yourself. That was low. I wish I yelled louder at the time. It still makes me feel sick, that three way threat and anxious disappearings. A relationship far too unhealthy, every second spent wondering when it was going to end, that was the certainty over anything. He went. Gone. How could anyone understand if even I don't, when it's happening to me?

If in a relationship, you know you're not happy if your mind wonders to someone else. Fact. Fucking around, a filtering process. An excuse to avoid commitment because commitment is too scary, once you put some much importance and emotion into one person. Of course it screws you over. We all just need more courage. More balls. Attitude.

I've never been that kind of girl to believe in people being 'the one'. Until last year. It sounds ridiculous I know, considering I don't believe that there is one person and one person out there for us only. But what I do believe is, when there is someone that just makes sense, over everything. It's human nature, we seek people out, companionship, adventure. I still battle with this 'alone' self and ignorable passion to explore other people, learn from conversations and socialise to the extent. There's always a moment when you just have to sit down, sit back in a room by yourself, to catch up with you. Down time. I have to have it everyday just to try and block out everything else. Traveling-bus journeys are very important to me. Moments in the morning, getting ready, sitting in bed reading blogs, writing and catching up on tv shows. If anyone were to take that from me, they'd be gone.

I imagine a room filled, people amongst us in a sea of swayed sweat, thumping music and chemicals raised high flowing through blood. I know I have a rage, burried like my skin is a sand pit and I've lost my tools. I can't quite construct, so I'll remain on the surface, still and steady. Deep down it's all boiling, and the moment described above in a wish scenario would be met with a sudden charge, tackle to the floor and smack to the face. 'How dare you, HOW DARE YOU!'. I remember hearing those swirled words over voicemail, fear my door to be knocked down over rage of rejection. It's fucking ugly, between us. The turmoil, I still haven't quite ran from and let go. Seeing you doesn't just affect me for a day, but a week. It's my choice, and I'm on the defense path, trying to at least get my grip this time-and someone new involved is suffering, extensively.

I've spent many moments this week on my own. Whether it ranges from 1 hour on the bus 'alone', or at home laid in bed, keeping warm and awake in my wider white room. I'm not used to this kind of space, I really like it. I think the anger is going to fuel many more wonderful things, it's like an energy after all which says 'fuck you, i'm getting on with things' kind of attitude, applicable to many past events.

I've worked out the kind of affection I receive from elsewhere, makes me cringe, because after all, what I'm provided with isn't wrong, what's wrong is how I can't seem to accept it. I feel like I don't deserve it. The one person who doesn't give that kind of affection, that kind of care it represents for someone, is the self. I beat myself up way too much. Food, drink, shouldn't do this because of that... I know why I get grouchy when things are quiet through the week-I'm only hiding from what I can't face-the constant struggle of second guessing whether things are 'just right', just 'perfect'. It's that kind of disease I have when, If things aren't just right, you want to flip. How dare I endure anything else which isn't quite right. A high intensive impatience to the world. To myself. To friends. Frustration seeing friends making the wrong decisions. Family making the wrong decisions. I have no control over it. It's something I need to accept and learn, matters out of my hands aren't necessary going to affect my overall happiness. I suppose it's something you develop when there's you, and your shell of a world crashes one after another in front of you in one year. It's fucking pitiful and I want to spit it out.

Everyday is a battle, it seems I'm through the worst based on test results and how most days differ to three months ago. It's hard to cope when other peoples lives around you, aren't quite just. But that is life, isn't it. The most important thing is to get the grip on keeping on going. I still think, If I knew I were to die tomorrow it would all mean NOTHING. It's why I follow Alice's blog so intensively. The wake up call we all need when we whinge on about all sorts of bullshit. I regularly read back texts from mum, she was so angry over my misery, I'd just been diagnosed with severe depression and the one person I needed to understand it, couldn't, because she was dying. It makes sense now, why. So why hang on to all this? Why still the need to process? It's quite clear a lot still hasn't been processed, though I quite tired by the back and forth of appointments, and the one person I should talk to about mum-well, it's kind of changed lately and again it doesn't feel safe to talk to that person.

I don't admit this often, if ever.

I'm very hurt. Still. And it's so hard. I still don't think you have quite learned from your impact on me and I still haven't sensed properly from you, that there's been any suffering quite like mine. 'why do you always want to be right'. I don't even know what I'm looking for, but when someone always seems to just get on with things and appear the 'indestructible', it makes you quite in-human and I wish you wouldn't always hide. Because truthfully, that's always been the uglier side of you. I think you know there's more work to do. It's almost like you've been lying to me the whole time, to keep me keen. To prevent further damage. Just admit what you want. Who is better. What they have over me.


It's all a riddle. I'm a silly deer in the headlights.

As mum would say 'a kick up the backside'

Recent blog post from Alice.

Makes you want to stop whining about crap!

A fuck off reminder

Another fuck off reminder for depression and all other life miseries we put up with. At least we have our life and ourselves to say, fuck this i'm going to live and enjoy it- we don't know 'the end' is just around the corner, it's different for some.

Dreams

Last night I must have fallen asleep by 9pm and woke by 9am.

I had the weirdest dream, it involved smoking weed with friends and being left on my own and passing out, being abroad somewhere I have no idea, water fights against germans and my mum being alive with long bright red red (proper red) hair.

I would have felt fine waking this morning if it wasn't dreaming about mum. It amazes me that we dream and feel emotions in our dreams, it tends to affect the day once we have woken. I try not to let it affect me but this one, with mum, it just felt kind of strange.

I think it's because she was alive, and in the dream, well it was so real, it was amazing she was alive. I woke around 6.30am half awake half sleep and was able to go back to sleep properly and continue the dream, I realised I was dreaming and managed to control going back. Me and mum had had an argument, strange. I'm not sure if it were meant to be my birthday, but she had bought me something and I was mad at her and then she showed me other things she had bought me and it included a chocolate cake. This made me really mad because I really don't enjoy chocolate cake that much. Most of the time. I think I was angry because I thought, if my mum doesn't know that I wouldn't want this kind of cake, then who really does know me!! I remember giving mum the silent treatment and then the next thing I know there's a scene where I look out the window, she has long red wavy hair and she must have come back from having some cancer removed. This is an obvious link because I watched junior doctors last night where a lady had some tumor removed.

It has just freaked me out that I was mad at mum. I've woken up, worried that I was mad at mum before she died, and that we could have got so stupid with each other over a bloody cake. I'm not quite sure what to do with myself now, other than lie down and try and make sense of it all. But that's not going to solve anything. I think i'll take myself outside now and decide on breakfast. At least that will be doing something instead of lying here in bed thinking, arghh I feel weird. That's not exactly pro active.

Lets hope I don't let it get in the way of my day. Perhaps I just need to admit to myself,  even amongst life as it moves on and things are working out for me and going well, I really miss mum.

What i'm watching right now

Some of the great medical shows I am watching:

Confessions of a nurse. It really gives you an idea of what nurses go through, I love the extra voice over commentary each nurse provides in a non 'God like' way. It makes the show more human, watch it and find out!

Junior Doctors: Your life in their hands. I think this show is awesome because I'm watching people my own age work in a hospital. Biology has always been an interest to me since I was a kid. My mum and Dad used to let me sneak out of my room around 8pm when my brother was asleep, just so I could go downstairs and watch Casualty! I used to want to be a doctor, a nurse and a psychologist as mental pain can be 'worse than physical' as I used to say. My list also varied from being a magazine writer (used to pretend with some girly friends we were making a magazine in my bedroom, I think my mate Kelli used to be the Editor but she wanted to name herself Adele!), to a barmaid and a vet. I'm sure most kids change their minds about occupation, i'm still very pessimistic about schools and the system of applying for GCSE's and Universities-how can anyone make that decision at such a young age and know what they want to do! This post has turned into a rant now; I just think that when applying for Uni, we should be able to write several personal statements instead of just one for different degree courses we wish to apply for.

And one I have just found which I think I should watch, perhaps for closure and to induce crying which I seem to fail at! Family series about a lady diagnosed with terminal cancer. Happy times!!

I also watch New girl for a bit of escapist comedy, most people over the country are watching. It's ok. Character development has been weak until last week and I still think it's missing a certain POW which most American comedy series' have. I'm hoping to be surprised still, though the stupidity of jess in her cute natural div way-i'm sure most girls can relate to this.

My Friday evening is going to be packed up! I can't wait to walk home from work, get rid of the work clothes and chuck on some sweats, tuck them into my socks and snuggle down to an afternoon of television. All for free on the genious Iplayer and 4OD.

Kapow! Things are goooood :)

Cancer costs-I really didn't understand the work of Macmillan

It really surprised me that treament towards cancer had to be argued to stand as free prescriptions, compared to other illnesses where patients still have to pay. How could anyone argue cancer is the worst illness to suffer?

I think this article really emphasises what areas charities cover and where our money also goes. I still haven't made up my mind of this either, though overall I think it's a wake up call to those of us who walk past charities asking for money. Yes, we don't always know exactly where it will end up, we may be told but do we really trust it? Perhaps from reading this we can learn what our efforts and passion towards charity can change to benefit those suffering.

Filthy Glasses, Filthy Eyes?

It's pretty impressive we have the ability to change our lives, just in the way we are thinking.

It's all in out heads it's all in our heads it's all in our heads.

I'm following a girls blog, Alice, who talks about whether she will still be alive at christmas time because she has been fighting cancer for the last 4 years. She's 15. I'm 7 years older than her and I walk around aimlessly wondering If i'm going to die from heartbreak, why do I get in such a piss about things?!

I keep thinking, what are we all searching for? Do we ever get to that common place where we finally feel chilled. Sometimes I wonder whether life is all about a constant chase. It would seem we are all in need of a place to strive too. A constant chase, but without the chase what would we do? Would we ever anticipate again-would adrenaline exist and would there ever be exhaust?! And then again I go over this in my head, realising that the only thing that creates this is our minds-and it all feels so silly again.

Whether it's overwhelment, whether I need a plan. I understand we all need a purpose in life, i'm sick of saying 'but', so how long can our own personal spirals continue for?

What will happen next? and the next thing and the next thing and the next thing...

Sometimes there are just too many questions, we fight for answers. I know what simply makes me happy yet achieving this in mind seems impossible where as on paper completely attainable. There is a feeling of being incomplete.

With mum, I think I was always in denial. I was always thinking  she would get better and coast along. Now I think at some point she is coming back. I have to tell myself, she's dead, and my mission this week is to organise her photographs into a book of what was...

I suppose we all treat cancer or any illness that someone we love, suffers with, in that way. Of course we would, why would anybody want to think the worst. Assume the worst. Believe the worst. But then, is false hope the biggest killer of all?

I'm pretty sure in the bliss of a walk along the river what my answers are, some perhaps too personal to even write on here. Though, one of them is:

'I can't use you as a safety'

Even though my smudgy glasses I can see that.