Thursday, June 7, 2012

Taking/losing control

Well, I tell myself that's what I'm doing- and in a very sick, sick manner.

I've been eating like absolute shit since I found out about the cancer. I was making a serious effort to really reduce the amount of sugar I was consuming and doing a good job staying away from gluten. Then I found out I have cancer and now I just can't pile enough junk food into my mouth fast enough.

As I'm eating it I think, "I know I shouldn't eat this, but fuck it." I know that I won't feel good, but I eat it anyway. Eating actually feels like a self punishment than self care. When I eat I feel this fine edge of anger.

I didn't even realize it until I woke up this morning feeling queasy and I noticed that I've been eating Tums several times a day (up significantly from a couple of times a week, if that).  It's harder for me to maintain stable blood sugar all day because I skip breakfast, eat (drink) crap for lunch and then don't eat again until dinner, and then drink coffee and pop in between. Bad. Seriously bad.

I know it. I am not beating myself up but I know I'm not making a good choice. I just feel like if my health is going to be screwed up, I should get the pleasure of being the one who did it. It's pretty stupid, and I also feel like it's my right to act out a little bit. That's really what it boils down to- I'm acting out.

Consequently I don't feel good, I have acid reflux almost constantly, my blood sugar is wacky, I'm tired, my brain is foggy and the last thing I need before I lose my thyroid is to GAIN more weight.

I want to drink. I don't drink much, rarely ever. I might sip Randy's beer to taste it but I rarely ever have my own- but I just want to drown this whole ball of crap in a nice run of drunkenness because at least that way, the cancer is funny and a good reason to have another, rather than just this thing that makes me sad.

I'll pull it together, but right now, this is my answer to cutting, or drugs, or drinking - I'll just eat crap and feel bad because I can.

Please, don't bother enlightening me to the sins of my ways - I know quite well exactly what I'm doing.

Sometimes when I am hurting, I am so detached from it that I will bite myself hard to feel SOMETHING. This is like that. I am so far away from this whole thing that I feel like feeling bad is the only way I can get into my body. I'm detached and floating high above it, but when I hurt, I become one again.

This is also called 'coping', my friends, even if it's ugly.

I finally had a good cry last night and now I just feel bitter about this whole damn thing. I'm sick of hearing the "best kind of cancer". It's still cancer. It's still time away from my family, appointments, worry, money, someone cutting open my body and removing a functioning part of me. It's still my body. It's still cancer. I split between the part of me who understands that this is just where I need to be right now, it's in its own way, perfect. The other side of me is wondering how the hell this happened to me and why I have to go through it and is having a serious tantrum with screaming and flailing body parts over this whole damn thing.

Don't tell me it's "JUST" this or that. It's not you going through it, it's me. The only person who can know what this means to me is me, and I still don't know, so how can you?

I guess I've turned some kind of corner, but now I'm walking down some pissed in alleyway and I have to smell the stink for a while before I can go back out again.


  1. I hear you. In many ways, Kristina, we're walking a similar path. Coping, coming to terms with the shit, looking for an escape, grieving the loss of our "normal" lives... I hear you. And not to encourage inappropriate coping, but if you want to meet for a drink, let me know. ;)

  2. That sounds delightful. ;) Much love to you sister!