04
Jun
10

Bad Times at We’reNot High

Not this week which is just finishing, but last week, I had an emotional crisis.

Brought on in part by my homebound state, which in itself is partly brought on by trying to get my pain management right, it also digs out parts of me that were the most pessimistic and cynical aspects of my personality for many years. No matter how long ago or how thoroughly I’ve changed from that alienated, hard-headed, angry, blameful, unhappy person that I was decades ago, there are remnants of her that lay in wait for just such a difficult time, popping up her little Alien head right in the middle of my chest, leaving a bloody mess for me to clean up.

Now being homebound is bad enough, and being whacked out (or not enough whacked out) on pain medication is worse, but add in an insidious little voice that tells me that I’m not good enough for my friends, and why would anyone bother to be in touch with someone who doesn’t bother to be in touch with them, and you’ve got three prime ingredients for emotional crisis.

It’s true that I haven’t been very good at keeping in touch, although it is hard to do when you spend a lot of time sleeping; and even more difficult when you can’t seem to get the pain meds balanced so that you’re awake enough without  being in too much pain. But the fact is that I *know* that the people who love me love me in spite of my poor communication style. Knowing that they have full lives is much more the kind of the thing that the “normal” Julie would think, or that they’re worried about overwhelming me with contact when I’m having enough trouble just getting my meds balanced, or that they’ve been meaning to call and are just no better at it than I am.

Sadly, I have to spend so much time with “Used to be Julie” who still resides in my head just for these kinds of instances, that it doesn’t take much to push me over the edge into depression and self-pity.

So that was the state I was in for most of last week. I basically told Brian that the only things keeping me living were he and the dog and cats, family, and friends – at that point, I told him, I have no purpose in life other than to be here because of them.

I’m not sure which is more pitiful – that you could read it as being that I’m just sticking around because you poor people need me; or that it is so depressing that I could believe living because of the love I have for that group is barely enough to keep me holding on.

Brian, bless him, understands me much better than anyone, and he knew that I needed to talk about it. And talk we did, around me sobbing into his shirt – I think this is the first time I’ve had a serious cry about being told I have terminal cancer. Of course I have something to be depressed about, but there’s no need for me to go creating reasons to be depressed.

One of the steps we decided on is that I need to get out of the house more often. The tricky part with this is a) choosing an activity that isn’t overwhelming or too long for the amount of energy I have (or am likely to have, when planning in advance). This weekend, we implemented this part of the plan by getting out to see a couple movies. You know, terminal cases can make anything seem profound, but does it seem like a bit much that I sobbed through the preview for the remake of The Karate Kid? I used up nearly half my allotment of kleenexes for the whole movie just on that preview alone! I managed to get the dose right to be able to stay awake and mostly comfortable in the movie theater seats; so we decided to try again and went to see Iron Man II on Monday. Again I hit the right dose. We did go out to dinner afterwards to The Old Spaghetti Factory – unfortunately my tastebuds are all whacked out from the chemo, so it was more or less a wasted effort on my part. Brian had leftovers for Tuesday, though. Just getting out helped my mood immensely.

The next biggest step to implement is for me to get over my fear of asking people for help. I’m afraid of being a burden, especially this early on in the whole process. In this particular case, help is synonomous with coming to visit. I’m going to figure out a way to set up a calendar that people can log into and put their name down for visits, but in the mean time, I am going to handle it manually.

I learned from a visit by my friend Sue yesterday that 2 hours is about my top max time – I was definitely ready for a nap by then. I’m having chemo on Tuesdays now for a while, while my Wednesdays have support group. Probably the best time to visit is either Monday afternoon/evening or Thursday afternoon/evening. Mornings are much more difficult for me, since they’re a prime time for sleeping. As long as I know in advance, though, pretty much any day but Friday is OK (Friday evening works, but morning/days don’t really).

The third step is for me to get out to visit people. Wednesdays, as mentioned is for my support group. Leah is putting together a small group for a beer after work next week – we’re keeping the list of names short so that it’s not too overwhelming. Brian is going to drive me there and home.

Hopefully between these three steps (and I really am going to try to make a better effort at keeping in touch, also), my current mood will stay improved as it is, and maybe get even better as I get into the hang of the whole crawling out of my shell thing. It’s doing so much better already that I’ve only cried about three profound things in this post.

(No, not really). . .

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2 Responses to “Bad Times at We’reNot High”


  1. 1 Laura Illige Harvey
    June 4, 2010 at 2:40 pm

    Oh Julie I’m so sorry I haven’t been commenting, emailing or calling – I’ve been wrapped up in getting the telecommute done, the move, and all that stuff. I’ve been reading your posts and it didn’t sink in to my selfish little brain that even a short note that I’m thinking about you would let you know that I AM thinking about you, and daily.

    Am still at work, last physical day in DC before I begin the Charlie’s Angels style of working (disembodied voice on the speaker phone). Early tomorrow I start the drive to New Mexico, begin telecommuting from there in the middle of next week. Love you, miss you, would be there to discuss aliens or whatever if I could. Laura

  2. June 4, 2010 at 6:47 pm

    There now – that’s the type of self-recrimination I was afraid of triggering – I was actually agonizing about my *own* self-recrimination for being such a self-recriminating dweeb! If we work at it we can get quite a cycle of “You’re not self-recriminitory, *I* am!” going. It’d be great! Here comes the icepick in the forehead!

    Glad to hear you’re on your way to Mr. Rangerboy finally – he’ll have everything unpacked by the time you get there, right? ;-} Love, Julie


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