Alan and I had a fabulous party this past weekend celebrating 20 years together as a couple (not our 20 year wedding anniversary as a few people thought, dear god, that would have meant I got married in high school!). We had a wonderful time seeing so many friends and family come together. The idea came from my dad’s visitation after his death. We saw so many people we hadn’t seen for years and thought how sad it is that you only get together like that for funerals. I’m thinking our friends should each take a year once every three years or so and host something. Alan and I wouldn’t mind hosting, we’d just feel bad making people travel to us all the time.
Now that the party is over and the last of our guests have headed home, it is time to really focus on taking care of me. And I haven’t got a clue as to where to start. I feel lost and directionless. I am still screwing up simple things, taking the wrong way to get places, forgetting words, and not able to keep simple tasks straight in my head. I am starting with sleep. Just trying to get at least 8 hours of sleep a night. Yesterday I also took a 3 hour nap. It’s amazing how tired I am even with all the sleep.
I have withdrawn from my grad school class this semester. I can’t think straight enough to grasp the concepts and don’t want to have the added stress of the class hindering my recovery. I am deferring at least until the summer semester, but need to contact the school and defer until the fall semester. In the mean time, I am going to try to read the text at my own pace so that when I finally do get around to taking the class, I am one step ahead.
Another thing that has come back is the desire to cut myself. And I hate it. I don’t act on it, but the desire is there at times. And it scares me. I don’t want to die, and I really don’t want to hurt myself, but I want to cut. My therapist has explained that it is emotional pain trying to find a way out. She said I need to take a day, stay in bed, and allow myself to process the cancer scare we went through with Lindsay (which is probably the trigger for this relapse). I need to cry and I need to grieve. I am starting to think that “being brave” through things like that is bullshit and if I need to cry, I am going to fucking cry. Being brave is facing the fear of my child possibly having cancer and letting myself show that fear.
I know I am rambling, and sometimes, that’s what I need to do. So there you go, my thoughts for today.