After my long crying binge yesterday came more. I am exhausted. I was visited by a friends husband who very kindly sat with me while the tears ran down my face, talked with me about God and how we all hit a low, and he shared some brief stories about Vietnam and his struggles. He brought with him a donation from a local family who are also praying for me. He asked me if I know that I am special, he hugged me several times. He is a very gentle man. Before he left he held my hands and prayed with me, asking God to heal me, to help me, to let me feel his presence. I cried more.
I fell asleep in a chair in my livingroom, them moved to the couch. I slept very hard for 3.5 hours. I would wake up and my body would not move, and so quickly I fell back to sleep. My dreams were a steady flow of memories, some very beautiful and some very painful memories. I was reliving my past going back years, many years, even to childhood. Things that I had worked through in therapy and, what I thought were placed in a orderly fashion in a closet with the hopes of never reopening them. How vivid the details of faces, hands, and my surroundings. Sometimes when I am driving I visualize letting all of this go, pouring out of my fingers at the pace of a river after a storm. When I meditate, I visualize opening the crown at the top of my head and releasing all the things that are now paralyzing me. I am beginning to understand a little about post traumatic stress disorder.
I found this last night, it was a notebook I had purchased to write about my visits to Mass General & Dana Farber, and the breast cancer and reconstruction process. This was the only page written in the book:
April 30, 2009: As I sit in the Mammography waiting area at Mass General today in a gown with only one tie holding it shut, and slammed my head back agsinst the frame of a painting on the wall…I am watching women come and go. Waiting for the tortuous but what could be life saving imagery and results in the Avon Breast Center. I was thinking, I have breast cancer, I have breast cancer…when am I going to cry? Fall apart?
As the technician explained to me why they were requesting more mammography imagery he asked “Do you know your diagnosis”…I hear the words, the dreaded disease come out of my mouth, yet still, I am emotionless, or am I indignant? What does that word mean? I think that applies.
We are weeks past the letter stating “An abnormal finding requiring more testing”…-end
I have said many times about women “We are strong and get through whatever it is we need to, and then and only then do we crash”. I guess this is so with me. I have turned my bills, my checkbooks over to the care of my mother because I am unable to function and have made many stupid costly mistakes. I feel like an idiot, a 50 year old who cannot manage her own checkbook. My mother, however, is being very patient with me, even when I am snappy, and that happens because I am judging myself harshly.
I didn’t go to my outpatient therapy groups today as I am having stomach difficulties and had a difficult sleepless night. Now, I shall rest again… I hope to feel the sun on my body when I do this, and have plans to take my dogs for a walk in the woods later, if I can. I am shocked by the ups and downs. Two hours up, and then I hit a horrible low.
Thank you, again for your thoughts and prayers, and the requests to keep you updated on what is going on with me. It helps knowing others care.