I am drunk, and I am ashamed.
It appears I have managed to make it through another 6 months without developing cancer again, but I won’t know for sure for another 4 weeks.
I work with people who think the N word is acceptable, they think the P word is acceptable. They feel mocking the size and shape of deceased is acceptable. They feel that telling me that being an undertaker is a man’s job is acceptable, but they stop short of telling me out loud that my gender makes me inferior.
I cannot find another job, because I can’t have the time off for the interviews. I’ve missed two interviews in 6 months because they wouldn’t let me have time off. Of the thousands of jobs I have applied for, I have had only two interviews. Well, I haven’t had them.
I’m taking so much codeine to cope with the pain and my existence, that a pack is only just lasting me a week. They used to last me a month.
I’ve double booked myself, finally got enough of a social life and double booked myself. One is already paid for. The other is with some of my few friends.
I can’t poop for days because my guts are screwed and the peppermint doesn’t help anymore.
To cope with everything here and lots more, I’ve started self-harming again. And I’m ashamed of it.
But, here’s the positive.
In all probability, I haven’t developed cancer, even if I have, it’s probably early enough to catch it.
I’m better than the people I work with, I can hold my head high in the face of their rage, ignorance and stupidity.
At least I have a job, and have had interviews, even if I haven’t had them. I’m luckier than others, at least I have a job. I will find another soon enough.
My codeine addiction is not a heroin addiction, and my autocorrect originally changed heroin to hatpin, so that amused me.
My friends love me as much as I love them. They know the event that is paid for had been something I’ve been looking forward to for the past year, I know they will understand if I ask to make the time up to them later, as I would do for them. A rain check that can only be trusted between true friends.
Hmmm, not sure on this one. My guts are gippy enough, but hopefully with time, they’ll improve.
Yes, my shame. At least I can still feel shame, I had pushed so many emotions away, it was easier. My arm will heal, and I will grow.
I am back in contact with someone I never stopped loving, and knowing he loves me too is doing wonders for my mind. Our long slow walk will have company now, besides friends.
I love my friends, I know they love me, it’s a different kind of love, but it’s nice to have both kinds.
I hope to be back on form soon, and I’m a fairly hopeless case! So do me a favour, when you’re feeling hopeless, flip your view the other way, look at it again, from a different angle.
You’re better, and stronger, than you think you are.