the lump and me

The lump decided to make its appearance one evening. The lump is there. It is noticeable, hard, about an inch in diameter in the 11:00 position of my right breast.

Doctor's appt and lots of prodding, then sending me off to have a mammogram.

After the mammogram I sit in a little room with my book and wait. The x-ray tech comes back in and says the doctor would like to see more pictures, so I go off to another little room where I am given an ultra sound.

Afterwards I clean myself up, get dressed, and wait. After about 10 minutes the sonographer comes back and tells me the breast health nurse would like to talk to me. So down the hall I go into another little room where I am told that no, it is not a cyst (too bad) but they're not sure what it is. Maybe it's a hemotoma, maybe I injured my breast without knowing it. Unfortunately, the doctor who reads ultrasounds is at lunch so I go home and wait for them to call me.

When they call they begin asking questions like "have you ever had surgery?" Well yes, yes I have. They would like me to see a breast surgeon in 2 weeks. Everybody's very nice and concerned and low-keyed. There is an abundance of pink paraphernalia but I manage to ignore it, being wrapped up in my own world as I am right now.

My mind goes skittering of its own aocord over the worst case scenarios. If it's a tumor. If it's malignant. If I have to have chemo. Who will take care of Ashanti? Who will take care of me? Will Kat willingly come home? Will Kesha still be willing to take custody of Ashanti, seeing as she has another baby on the way? Will it hurt? Will it hurt so bad death will be a relief?

But on the other side of the coin it might be nothing, I might be frightening myself over nothing.

The lump is not my friend, I know that much. But since we are bound together, we might as well adjust.

so what has kactus been doing?

Necessary stuff, like doctor appointments and getting on a budget management plan. Realizing that I was losing control over many aspects of my life (including financial) scared teh shit out of me. At one point thought I would stockpile up the ambien and tried to get my daughter's father to take her for a couple weeks (no trauma of finding dead mom in bed for her, thank you very much!) but then backed off when said dad was an asshole and wouldn't take her.

Had to stop thinking about suicide as an option because it just wasn't practical.

Played a LOT of World of Warcraft. A LOT. Did I mention A LOT??? (warning: income WoW babble that will only make sense to other WoW players...) Got my main toon, the nelf rogue Hiwa, up to 70 and as of launch day of WotLK is pretty decently pve geared, badge gear and some hyjal, ssc, tk, kara stuff. No sunwell, haven't got that far, but hey it's only a game. And an undead mage to 70. Plus several alts in progress, a couple bank alts (who lost their mail thanks to blizzard's bullshit yesterday), a fun cyber-sexual relationship that kept me feeling perky for a while, and a lot of new friends.

Hung out with said daughter. Read and re-read and read some more.

Went and cleared out a close relative's apartment and took care of his business after he was thrown in jail for possession of child pornography. Don't really wish to talk about that.

What didn't I do?

I didn't write. Not a letter, postcard, or blog post. No emails, nothing.

Didn't watch tv cuz I don't have one that works.

Didn't watch movies because I took netflix off my budget.

Didn't die. Kinda sorta lived.

Didn't follow one speck of politics, blog drama, feminist vs feminist in-fighting, or even the presidential race. I didn't even know Obama won the nominination til weeks later :(

And that's it in a nutshell. But I think a very slim remnant of me is back. I will try to keep you updated.

sometime this fall

I was rolling the red scooter down the sidewalk, to go to the store for dinner supplies, and a wind gusted up and red/yellow leaves began to fall about me.

I began to cry.

That fall feeling, the last crispness in the air, the memories of when my children were tiny and the taste of apple cider and carving pumpkins and having these things called hope and joy.

I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear my trouser rolled...or something like that. I can watch the progression of my life in my hands, the skin losing elasticity, random spots that were never there before, the bitten, chewed-up nails, the bunching of skin around the knuckles. And one minute I'm cruising along, merrily listening to celia cruz on the ipod, and the next i'm tearful and overwhelmed.

Last week I rode the red scooter to the polling place and placed my vote. On the way home I stopped for a cigarette and the sky was blue and I thought of when I was 16, 18, 25, all those hopeful happy ages when a blue sky and falling leaves were enough to send me into ecstacy.

I want that back because I remember joy, I remember giddiness, I remember days before my life and my heart splintered into a thousand separate shards.

So the lesson here I guess is that grief does take its toll. I knew I was hurting after Matthew died but I didn't realize how much the trauma was tearing me apart. Or I knew but I couldnt stop it. And it went on, it goes on, some days better than others, (hello xanax you're my friend), but grief does that.

Grief means that what used to be hope is now bland acceptance. Grief means that at times you bow your head and wonder how to take another step. Grief doesn't have a time frame, it doesn't come with a warning label, it doesn't have anything except repercussions.

Not Dead

I am not dead. I'm not even particularly sick. Just tired of blogging and blogging drama and refusing to get involved.

My life is evening out. Anti-depressant seems to be finally kicking in, spring is here so I'm no longer confined to my house, and I think I might make it. So, for all of you concerned, I Am Not Dead.

Jeez.

a little better--forcing myself to use my spoons

Today is slightly better than yesterday, when I really was on the verge of checking into wherever it is you check in when your whole body goes numb and you think your head is going to fly off above the trees.

I forced myself to comment on a couple of blog, which I haven't had the heart to do in ages. I forced myself to have some sort of non-superficial interaction with people. I vacuumed and made my bed. I lit some incense. I did these little things that make it look on the outside like things are proceeding apace and yay I'm not about to fall apart.

Last night I slept for 12 hours and only got up because I was getting a back-ache from lying down so long.

I've been taking out my anger in World of Warcraft, where I've created a kick-ass night elf rogue who only exists to kick, gouge, maim and eviscerate--for profit. I love her, my green-haired alter-ego who gets to be angry and cruel without being destroyed.

So all things considered today could be considered Not As Bad As The Day Before. Which isn't saying much except that today isn't as bad as the day before.

Don't let an 11 year old into your nightmares

I had a bad dream the other night where I was trying to run past a line of tiny killer robots, while carrying Ashanti and screaming for help from Naruto.

Naruto?

this is gone

I really think I'm losing it. First my vision fucked up and I'm stressing so hard I can't think. And then why do I think I owe anybody an apology or explanation? I don't. But I do.

Folks, I am a fucking mess right now. I don't remember being this low down in years. Everything is happeneing around me at the speed of light and I'm just trying to stay alive.

Panic attacks and paranoia and my heart is racing. Having a mental health crisis and I don't know what to do.

good things: kat out of jail. Still has her job, that's good, she still sounds happy but I'm scared about what my phone bill's going to look like after all those collect calls from la lockup.

bad things: ashanti turning into a horrid pre-teen. Bye bye sweet thing, hello monster.

And my hands--my hands are shaking so hard I'm having trouble keeping them on the keyboard.

I'm in trouble.