This sucks.

I don't want to sound horrifingly dissapointed, but I am. I absolutley refuse to admit that I want to throw things, that i want to hit things, that I want to lay down and cry till it all goes away. I'm too strong for that. I can find the silver lining. It's there. There's always one and I can not only find it but thrive on it.

generally I can roll with the punches. I guess I even sort of knew there was something comming, but I had no idea what it would be and I was still in that "oh it's just a pulled muscle it'll go away in a day" phase. I had every intention of taking these wonderful days and heading home with them. I had a lot of fun shopping after the biopsy. I felt great even with new holes poked in me. Today I dressed up, felt like a million bucks, with the perfect hair, the perfect outfit, the perfect light makeup, and to top it all off I found one of those little rubber bracelets that was giving to a transplant foundation, in a color I like. We were all checked out, I was already thinking ahead to picking up my beautiful child and snuggling him till he fell asleep, then I had intentions to use the new sexy outfit and sexy look to it's full advantage. Alas not this week. This week there will be not point in dressing up, no point in going out, just drugs, that's all it will be.

I can't live forever like I'm sick. I know I'm suposed to move on do things with my life, but everytime I try, everytime I get really attached and connected and commited to being somewhere and doing something it comes back and bites me in the ass, has to point out that it still runs my life, that I don't have any control, not the way I want to have control, not the way others have control. I have to drop everything, I have to drop everything last second to do an entire week of medical care, like it's my real job and everything else I do in life is just a hobby during my spare time. F**King medical shit. when do I get to move on?

   [ POSTED BY Penelope @ 6:03 PM ] [ ]