Welcome to my Pity Party
What a difference a few weeks can make…
Today is the 18th and I am almost too mentally exhausted to write. All day I tried to motivate to move my body so that I would feel better. Instead I wallowed in my fear and spent hours online trying to learn every trick in the book for getting through chemo. I researched the most hydrating lotions to purchase and which ingredients to avoid, techniques for getting the best fit with the cold cap and how to use a pantyliner, instead of the headband in my kit, to protect my forehead during treatment. I joined a facebook group and read testimonials from people who lost 80% of their hair and from others who lost almost none. I read about the need to wear cold gloves and booties so that I wouldn’t suffer from neuropathy or lose my nails.
I let the “should” word creep into my day and ultimately defeat me. The judgement and accusation that comes along with that word is paralyzing. Knowing that I was aware of what I should be doing to make myself feel better, but chose not to, made me feel like I had given up and failed. Yet I gave in to the sadness and darkness and unknown and I didn’t even want to come out.
Just this very morning I had written down a list of things that make me feel energized and inspired along with a list of the habits that don’t. I was trying to prepare for the unavoidable challenging days and have options readily available.
— Things that make me feel good: listening to music, getting outside, connecting with a friend, working out, reading a book, looking at shoes online…
— Things that don’t help: eating for reasons other than hunger, isolating in the house all day, not moving…
But by the early afternoon I couldn’t even revisit the list. I was so overwhelmed by just the simplest things - suffocated by the clothes to fold in my closet, the laundry to flip, the dishes to unload. The only think I could think about was the vast, insurmountable amount of knowledge I would need to make this next phase manageable, if not a success. And I hardly knew where to start.
As the day went on, I finally gave myself permission to set aside the to do list, to accept that whatever needed to be done would get done, just not right now and not necessarily by me. And for this period, however long it took, I would sit and read everything in one of the support groups- all of the wise words, stories, tips and encouragement from other women on similar journeys.
Now that the house is quiet and the skies are dark, I am in the calm after the storm of my day. I recognize that some days the techniques and tricks are just not going to work. As a wise and wonderful friend reminded me, “Sit with it for awhile, but don’t live in it.” And so I gave myself the day to mourn, and to cry and to hide. I tell myself no guilt. I will try to treat myself with kindness and acceptance. No “should” for today. Only opportunities for a new tomorrow.