56. No shit

Or maybe I’m no different after all. Things have blown up with R. All the little niggles came together yesterday. I’ve been trying to ignore stuff but there’s only so much that can be put aside. It’s a bit like ignoring kids with behaviour issues at school. If you don’t nip it in the bud it just gets worse and worse. Which is bad. One thoughtless comment led to another thoughtless action and it snowballed into downright indifference.

And yet I assumed I needed him because of the cancer. Having only been here a year, I don’t know loads of people, which I think also maybe made him feel obliged. Having cancer makes me feel like shit. But a friend, who has a friend with cancer, gave me a talking to about appreciating living. And she’s right and I realised this. I’ve been mooching around, scared and stressed about dying, when what I should be doing is appreciating living. It could be worse. The cancer could be in my lymph nodes, it could have spread, I could have needed a mastectomy, I could be having a horrible time with chemo.

So. To the best of my ability, no fucking more. And part of what has been making me sad and depressed was / is R. He has been making me feel like shit lately. I do nice stuff for him, think of things he might like, did laundry, housework and shopping while he was away. I KNOW he’s been supportive of my health issues. He was prepared to look after me during chemo. But I’m not just a responsibility (maybe that’s the problem, he’s not big on responsibility), I’m still me even with the depression and cancer.

I’m not used to this. I’m used to having fairly good self-esteem about myself but the cancer has affected my rating. I’m no longer able to see myself as a reasonable catch for someone. If I’m single again, I can’t see myself in a new relationship. Who wants to be with someone who may need nursing and who may not survive, long term. That does not, however, mean I’m prepared to be dragged down by someone else. The ultimate cliché maybe but life really is too short.