life is hard

 Life is hard. Things are bad. There's my quick update. 

I am tired. More tired than I have been. My weekends are supposed to be there to recharge, but no more. My weekends are full of worry, full of work, and full of logistics. I am trying everything I can to keep it together, to be there for my family but I am burning out. Tensions are running high and I am not tolerating any bullshit. None in fact. 

My mother has been given a terminal diagnosis. It would be similar to saying an abbreviated sentence as in a way, cancer has made her its prisoner. leptomeningeal carcinomatosis. 2-4 Months and that in itself hurts. But she is being affected in such a way that she is okay, in her world things are fine. In our world, it is an entirely different story. We are hustling, we are coordinating and my dad is merely surviving taking care of my mom and we are feeling it. People are talking to us about hospice and the end of her journey and it all seems like a fucking nightmare. 

I am not prepared, Carly is not prepared, dad is not prepared... we are trying to be but there is no preparing. We are destined for a fall, but at the same time, it doesn't seem real. It seems like we should be waking up from this, but it is not happening. My mother is still there, still able to talk, still her in some semblance but not. Illness is eating her, and it is carnivorous and devouring her whole. Nothing we can do about it but watch. Cancer, it is a monster. It lives and breathes and yet it is a part of her. Made of her. Made of her cells, and sinew. I want to hate it, but her body created it just as it created me. So I resent it and carry on with focusing on her still being here. It is a slow and torturous process of watching her decline and immediately I am sucker-punched with the memory of telling her about burying her out in the backyard in a glad bag (I was a snarky kid) and joking about putting her in a home and well fuck, I would never but it hurts that I said that. It hurts. All of it. I am an open fucking wound. I talk about it and it feels like this sentence has become our world as much as it is hers. The ripples of the splash and we are close to it. We feel it thrashing against us and yet we are trying to remain still, trying to remain constant through this. 

She also made comments about how she understands why terminal patients just want to get it over with and die. Dad and I looked at each other and didn't know what to say. What the fuck do you say to that. All I could say was, we are not ready for you to go yet and everyone went silent. Trying to will her to live is also a full-time job and I am feeling like I am fucking failing. I feel like I am failing everyone in my life and it is not in me to fail. I hate it. I fucking loathe failing and I just get to sit here and watch the failure and suffer it. 

Fuck. Life is hard, things are bad and I am not okay. 

Comments

SimplyElatedSince1984 said…
Hello my dear friend,

This is powerful and I am terribly sorry that you are going through this. I cried and held my breath and just wished that I could make it better for you all. Life is ever so tough on a good day but entirely more so when a terminal illness is involved. I am here if you need me, I won't be able to fix anything but I will certainly listen. I love you and your beautiful family to pieces.

Love Always,
Sarah
11:44 pm
Venus is Grounded said…
It is sad to say that I have felt this gut wrenching loss as well and I know there are no words that truly lighten the weight of it. We love you and we are here.
9:41 pm
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