Breaking down

I have a confession - I'm not handling things as well as I pretend I am.

I've concentrated on weight loss lately because, well, as I've eluded to, life isn't as peachy as I want it to be. No I'm not talking about with me and Andrew, we are, thankfully, the one steady amongst the uproar. But mom's diagnosis, and subsequent treatment has taken a toll on me.

I find myself expecting myself to be the strong one. I view myself as a logical, strong person - ergo my reactions to mom's cancer diagnosis should be such.

Guess what? I'm not all logic and smarts.

I've slowly come to the conclusion that I am holding way too much inside, but it all came crashing to me last night. Last night, which has continued on to today, has felt like one attack after another on me. It's not the case, but it feels that way.

Well let's give you the run down of all that has happened. Mom was diagnosed with Stage 3 Colon Cancer in Late November. Late December she was in surgery to have an ileostomy (a colostomy but for the end of the small intestine). This is so that during radiation and chemo, she wouldn't get blocked up - a potential hazard that could not be risked.

Chemo was exceptionally hard on mom, as it supposedly is on some people. She couldn't keep anything down and lost 15 lbs in the first week alone. It was hard to watch. Hard for me to sit and not be able to do anything.

Because of how low the tumor is we were all worried, her surgeon included, that she would not be able to be "hooked back up".

This past Wednesday, mom went in for surgery. When the surgeon came out he told us how in 3 months she should be able to be "hooked back up" once fully healed from the radiation. That there was a small tumor left (after radiation/chemo) and that they took it and will study it to see if any lymph-nodes are affected.

I started tearing up when he said this, but swallowed them back as to not step out of character. The surgeon went on, and my Aunt, who has been through this before, had all the right questions to ask that I never would have thought of. So much for the smarts portion of my act.

I've seen mom since, but because she is in a hospital 2 cities away, its not always easy for us to see her during the week  when we have to work - not including the price of fuel these days.

I saw her last night, and they were starting to take her epidural down - so she was starting to feel the pain of her surgery. She was snappy at me and Andrew. I understand why she was. I understand how frustrating, painful, tiring, and all other sorts of emotions I can't describe add up to the remarks about our useless conversaton about a table.

I had to step out. i couldn't handle it.

I'm going to admit here, what I have just been able to admit to myself. i'm going to tell it publicly so maybe some other person who thinks they are the rock, thinks their strong, and can handle it knows - you can't not all the way, and that's okay . 


I've felt such a need to curl up in a ball and cry this past week, it's almost overwhelming.

To be honest, I've felt like a failure. My sister, who I have always viewed as more emotional then me, has stepped in to be the rock mom has needed, she has been able to support her both emotionally and financially, where I have been unable. She is able to visit mom everyday, multiple times a day. I can't even make it out once a day sometimes. And when she does see mom, mom is happy to see her, despite the pain. She comes with the things mom needs, no attitude, and support - knowing what to talk about, what minute details have been going on in mom's recovery from the surgery.

So yeah, I've felt, in comparison, like a failure, like a fraud.

I am not able to be the rock. I am the youngest daughter of my mother, I think it's time I acknowledge that it's ok for me to, sometimes, be the baby.

I am terrified of losing my mother. I have been having dreams (in the past month now every night) that are almost nightmares, everyday life, without mom. I wake up feeling like I haven't slept at all. I pretend not to worry because I have to be confident that she will be fine, but I'm terrified. I know what can happen, I know what Stage 3 means, and I heard the doctor say what the chances are of it coming back afterwards. I know that, and I hope and pray to a god I didn't think i believed in, that she would and will be okay and will survive this.

I joke about how mom has to raise my kids for me - to be honest I don't know how I could do it if she wasn't there. But that's another thing I'm a failure for too - a double edge on that one, I'm a failure for not providing her with another grandchild, being unable too even when that was the first thing she asked me when she came out of the first surgery.

I'm scared of things I can't put to words. I'm scared of what could happen, what has happened, what that means for me and everyone in my family. And everynight I live a nightmare where she's not here. Everyday I pretend that I'm okay, that this is just routine and that mom will be fine. I've stuck my head halfway in the sand.

I pretended I could handle it. I haven't slept well for a month at least. My work, my hobbies, my life has reacted accordingly to that. I am over emotional, I'm depressed when i stop pretending, I'm fighting more with those around me, and dammit I'm starting to hate myself for being that failure.


So to those who think they can handle it. Don't. Give up your pride and let yourself feel when those supporting arms come around you. Break down every once in a while, otherwise you'll breakdown when you're needed - when your mother is sitting in pain, crying, and trying to eat. You'll break down like I did and have to leave, and feel oh so ashamed and a level of self loathing never felt before.