November So Far
Last night I cried in a way I haven’t been able to since the prognosis. Heavy weighted sobs that made it impossible to speak.
This week has been unbelievably heavy. Everyone feels that heaviness. The way most people are mourning this election is similar to how I’ve been mourning my former life. The anticipatory grief of what is possible is intense and hard to grapple with. All I can say is to take it a day at a time and do your best to hold others with love and kindness. The road will not be easy, but we will do everything in our power to make it out alive.
This week for me feels heavy not only because of the results of this year’s election. I hit a point in my mourning that I don’t know how to navigate and I have my bimonthly scan.
The grief arose from talking to a friend about how hard it is to imagine a life where a romantic relationship could emerge. I have yearned for that relationship and the only person I ever truly loved rejected me in a way that I’m still piecing myself back together from. I rebounded after that relationship to an abusive one that drained me of the illusion that I was a worthy partner. It hurts to reflect on this, but it is part of the reason I’m scared of what could be. To open yourself back to rejection on top of trying to find love during terminal illness feels impossible.
So many of my loved ones try to encourage me to not give up, but it just seems so hard to put myself through another round of rejection. I have loved so much in my life, but the love that I wanted was never returned.
It’s hard not to dwell on what is missing from my life. This life of mine has been so unfair and unkind to me. From the time I was 5 years old, I’ve been trying to hold myself up and have hope. I’ve suffered from bullying and abuse in this life and I keep moving forward. I stay resilient. I keep my head up and move with intention. But right now, I’m at a standstill with myself.
People all around me remind me how loved I am and how supportive they are to me and how worthy I am. It just feels impossible to see a future where I am graced by the love I crave.
Today, I feel grief and sadness for the above. I also feel anxious for my scan tonight and the results that I’ll get next week, but it feels like small potatoes in comparison of all that I am processing. I’m so used to being in the MRI machine at this point that my anxiety isn’t even bad. The anxiety will act up again on Wednesday as that’s results day.
Wish me luck.