I still think about those words, all these years later. They burnt then and I'm kind of embarrassed to say that they still do. I think I have always wanted too much out of life, and this last week thinking I may possibly have breast cancer made me think it again.
You know that feeling you get when you leave something that was supposed to be awesome but it was only so-so, and you think, that was just mildly "ok", but it wasn't what I wanted it to be?
Life with a husband and kids is like that. Life in my mid-thirties is like that. Right now I'm writing this in between defrosting the chicken and trying to console my three year old who WANTS TAPE RIGHT NOW and honestly, I'm kind of done with today.
|me cleaning at the first sign of pubes in the bathroom|
My dad took me out to lunch yesterday and asked me what I was "really" thinking in between the concern from my doctor and the visit with the breast specialist.
Honestly, the thing that I was thinking was this:
I don't want my family to watch me die. I don't want my kids to grow up without a mother. I don't want people to find out and to know and suddenly give me that sad clown smile. I don't want people to start wondering how much time I have. I don't want to wonder that, either. I don't want people to say, "Oh, a young mother. That's just so sad." I'm really not afraid of death; in some ways it would be a reprieve from my constant fight with anxiety and depression. I know i'm not supposed to say that out loud, but it is what it is.
No, I'm not suicidal. Things are really, really good in life, actually. I know where I will go when I die and the only thing that scares me about death is the thing everybody wonders: "Will it hurt?"
People tell me they like to read this stuff because I have the guts to say what few people do. Maybe that's true. I hope it's not. I hope you find the courage to be honest with those you trust.
I'm rethinking things in my life. I'm rethinking all of the things that felt so important to me, like my house being completely clean before a friend can come over. Me being the mom I am supposed to be in my head and falling short of it EVERY. SINGLE. FREAKING. DAY. Me wondering who my children will be in the future and missing my babies from the past. Me struggling to take space to write and just to calm down and think and to enjoy today. My head gets so full of dumb stuff.
The past 10 years have taught me that I do better in a crisis, EVERY TIME. It's the in-between that is hard for me. The dirty dishes, the waking up to the same broken relationships and the same broken world after having hoped that somehow, during my dreaming, everything had righted itself into paradise.