Pity Party

I think we have all felt like that. I know times when diahrea has kept me in the bathroom for hours. Times when I havent made it in time and literaly sprayed myself, my clothes and my house with effluent. And then cleared up the mess wearing nothing but tears of humiliation and bitter, impotent anger.

I hate the fact that I was forced to give up my teachers job which I loved.

I hated seeing the concern in the faces of the ones I loved. I hate the constant pain, and the inability to do most of the things I have enjoyed doing in my life.

The list goes on.

A friend of mine's wife killed herself because of her cancer. I find no fault in her. But she destroyed her spouse, her children and the glue that held the family together. Probably the most selfish act one could ever make, yet I understand it.

I couldnt do that.

I guess I've survived at least two very close calls with death, probably more. Having done that it seems silly to give up now. Today was a beautiful day. I hope tomorrow is too.

I'm not battling cancer; I hate the metaphor. It seems to imply that if you die of this disease, its somehow your fault. I'm suffering from cancer, my dr's are the ones using their skills to kill this disease.

I dont know where I'm going here. I spent a few days last week battling what Churchill called the 'Black Dog' of depression . What was the point of anything? What was the point of getting up , getting dressed, taking another breath?

I guess the question answers itself: another breath. How precious is that?

I dont believe in God or any kind of spirituality, so I dont think I'll be missing anything when I'm dead. I know it would upset my wife. I know it will upset my adult autistic son, to what end I know not. It will upset my student daughter. And my friends, and the people I know who I know are praying for me in churches, synagogues and mosques in three continents (not bad for an athiest, eh).

So what am I saying? Cancer sucks. On the other hand it has also provided a lot of loving people with an opportunity to quietly express that love (in whatever form they wish to express it).

I understand the impulse to end it. But we have a DUTY for those who love us to do our best to keep going and try not to be miserable about it ( although we often fail).

Anyway today was a lovely day.

Who knows what tomorrow may bring? Not the dead, thats for sure.

And I get to talk to people like you. Who'd have thunk it?

Footstomper said:

Mirrors

I think we have all felt like that. I know times when diahrea has kept me in the bathroom for hours. Times when I havent made it in time and literaly sprayed myself, my clothes and my house with effluent. And then cleared up the mess wearing nothing but tears of humiliation and bitter, impotent anger.

I hate the fact that I was forced to give up my teachers job which I loved.

I hated seeing the concern in the faces of the ones I loved. I hate the constant pain, and the inability to do most of the things I have enjoyed doing in my life.

The list goes on.

A friend of mine's wife killed herself because of her cancer. I find no fault in her. But she destroyed her spouse, her children and the glue that held the family together. Probably the most selfish act one could ever make, yet I understand it.

I couldnt do that.

I guess I've survived at least two very close calls with death, probably more. Having done that it seems silly to give up now. Today was a beautiful day. I hope tomorrow is too.

I'm not battling cancer; I hate the metaphor. It seems to imply that if you die of this disease, its somehow your fault. I'm suffering from cancer, my dr's are the ones using their skills to kill this disease.

I dont know where I'm going here. I spent a few days last week battling what Churchill called the 'Black Dog' of depression . What was the point of anything? What was the point of getting up , getting dressed, taking another breath?

I guess the question answers itself: another breath. How precious is that?

I dont believe in God or any kind of spirituality, so I dont think I'll be missing anything when I'm dead. I know it would upset my wife. I know it will upset my adult autistic son, to what end I know not. It will upset my student daughter. And my friends, and the people I know who I know are praying for me in churches, synagogues and mosques in three continents (not bad for an athiest, eh).

So what am I saying? Cancer sucks. On the other hand it has also provided a lot of loving people with an opportunity to quietly express that love (in whatever form they wish to express it).

I understand the impulse to end it. But we have a DUTY for those who love us to do our best to keep going and try not to be miserable about it ( although we often fail).

Anyway today was a lovely day.

Who knows what tomorrow may bring? Not the dead, thats for sure.

And I get to talk to people like you. Who'd have thunk it?

Well said

Footstomper

It's like the whoLe grief cycle is wrapped up in five minutes of hopelessness. I know I could never maintain the type of attitude that I'd love to have without a ton of inner anxiety. It's okay to take a timeout and regroup. It sounds like you'be been through so much!

Jojo61 said:

You guys are all such

You guys are all such courageous fighters - and although there are times when you get fed up and discouraged, you get right back into the fight. I admire you all. Your strength and courage humble me.

Hugs

Jojo

Mark, Fox, Footstomper, you are real life heroes. You really are! I am amazed at your strength and happy to know people like you.

hardo718 said:

Whats wrong with a good old fashioned pity party?

It's a necessary part of it all.  How else can we bring ourselves to an acceptance of what we have to face in the mirror?  The hard part sometimes is moving beyond the pity party.

I always hate leaving parties, but part we must.

To Mark, Fox and Stomp.....and many others.....I look forward to your wisdom and examples of a life well lived.  You are all an inspiration to me.  Thank you all!

Donna~

I went off with my golfing buddy today for the whole day. Nothing broke. No pain. Weak but hit the ball pretty good. Just not very far. Just like how I started last year. What a great warm spring day to be outdoors all day. Reminds me why I want to stay alive.

foxhd said:

Mark

my swing plane is so much easier to stay on. Hits are clean. Just short. I played from the old mans tees and it was great.

I can finally answer one of the 2 questions that I left unanswered a year ago in my profile.  " Having found this forum and sharing, learning and knowing all of you.  There is a lot of love, trust and care going around."

There is a whole lot of class acts on courage, gracefulness and good humor!

I find myself struggling with words, my english and my thoughts! Hope I made sense.  I could try in spanish, but Im not sure I could do much better!