Now I know this stems from anger at the cancer. I don't know if I'm sticking my neck out here. My Indian name would be "Sticks Her Neck Out." I don't know of anyone else who has written about surviving the trek down that road and the feelings that surface. They're big feelings, and they have to do with not being able to accept the world the way it is. Or the people therein.
I no longer participate actively in any of my support groups. I don't want to make any new friends. I don't trust anyone any more. It hurts way too much. Freddie Mercury's song "Too Much Love Will Kill You" is apropos to the way I feel. I cling to my home and my job and to German who is the one truly true-blue person in the universe that I can trust with my life.
I am thinking I will stay here. My little dream -- of having my own house with a garden in the woods, a pot bubbling on the stove and an open door for friends to find a safe haven -- all that's becoming blurry. I don't want friends in my house. I don't want to cook for people who are not really my friends. I don't like to cook. I don't want to be alone and my hands are in rough shape from arthritis. I don't like living on a busy corner in a semi-city but I can still plant things and see if I can get the birds to nest in the houses I paint.
Well that's it for now, gotta run to work. Spring is coming, that's a nice thing as always. I now have light brown hair instead of gray, and of course there is more of it. The plastic surgeon says that a couple more inflation sessions and I'll be ready for permanent implants. I'm going to the gym steadily and soon the weather will be nice enough for bicycling. I guess I am going to need to count my blessings daily. Ugh.
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