Anger and Sadness

Today I was angry. There's not a whole lot to it. I was just really angry. I woke up cold and nauseous, I had to go have blood taken, the car ride made me sick and I was angry. I came home, flopped down on the couch and fell asleep, and when I woke up I was angry.

I passed the day, muddling through interactions with my friends and family, but I just kept thinking about the way things are and it made me angry. I could tell I was taking it out on other people, but I just couldn't make myself care. I'm trapped in this nightmare and I can't run or take a break or get away from it because right now it defines me. I can't live or breathe like a normal person; I can't go find excitement or intrigue or anything new. I can't meet new people or have a job or go an entire day without feeling like I'm going to vomit and it makes me feel so empty. It feels like the one and only thing I have in my life is cancer, and god knows how badly I don't want it.

I don't expect life to be like a fairy-tale. I know it isn't. But I think about going through nine more sessions of this misery and I wonder if it's really worth it. I've already been through five rounds of chemo, and there are still nine more scheduled. I've never heard of anything that requires fourteen rounds of chemo! The sad part is, the pain I was enduring before I was diagnosed was so severe that I finally concluded life wasn't worth living if I couldn't figure out how to get rid of that pain. Now, the pain is mostly under control, but I'm hardly less miserable. I find myself asking whether I have it better or worse now than before. The objective is obviously to get rid of this thing so I can move on and be happy again, but it's so damn far away and nobody really knows if I'll ever get there.

I had a girlfriend up until a few months before my diagnosis. I know it's important to be able to rely on myself, and I don't ever want to depend upon someone else to determine my happiness. But at least when I had her, I always felt like there was one huge good thing that I had regardless of how other things in my life were going.

These days, I don't have much of anything except an empty stomach. I mean that literally and figuratively. And while I still believe she's out there for me, that special girl, I have no way of finding her. I can only sit here and hope she'll still be there when I can finally escape this interminable prison. Even then, nothing's guaranteed.

So, I'm angry. I'm sad. I feel helpless and frustrated and I don't want to go through any more chemo, let alone nine more rounds. The prospects of tomorrow look depressingly like those of today, but who knows? Maybe tonight I'll fall asleep and when I wake up it will all be gone. Like one big, terrible nightmare.