Guilt

Yesterday, after I wrote my first post, I felt great. It was a beautiful day. I took the kiddos down to the lake and we swam and socialized, and I didn’t mention my man’s diagnosis once. I almost forgot that he is sick – then I felt guilty for feeling that way.

I am worried that my post yesterday was too nonchalant.  Let me be clear- this cancer diagnosis is with me every second of everyday. I wake up in the morning and open my eyes to sarcoma, high grade.  I am amazed that I am not a freak out there on the streets. I want to tell everyone, I want to ask for hugs from women I hardly know, but somehow I don’t. I mowed the lawn today. Our incredibly sweet neighbor brought me over the first peony of the season and told me the first blossom brings good luck. I told him we could use good luck and managed to leave it at that.

I asked my man if he thought it was obnoxious that I am blogging about this, he doesn’t seem to mind, but I obviously struggle with it.

I have always fantasized about writing a blog, but never began one. I would come up with these ideas and then somehow they wouldn’t stick.  Recently, I imagined writing a crafting blog in the style of Julie and Julia. I would attempt a weekly craft and blog about it. I even day dreamed that while I was blogging some horrible thing would happen in my family  adding meat to my blog. Holy Crap, I want to vomit as I admit this! I can’t believe I invited this into our lives in such an incredibly haphazard way. When I expressed this superstitious fear to a friend she assured me  that I am not that powerful. But still what if all my dark thoughts opened the door for this in some unexplainable way.

I had ( I think I have tossed it) a belief that if I imagined every bad thing that could possibly happen; the death of my children, my self , my closest friends, and my husband, they would never happen because things never happen the way you imagine. I have spent a shameful number of  hours daydreaming about every possible catastrophe in some backwards attempt to keep my family safe.  Apparently I skipped Sarcoma.

Although I still feel weird about writing this blog maybe it is helpful in relation to my demented, overactive imagination. I spend an inordinate amount of time in my head envisioning terrible things. Today while I was mowing the lawn instead of imaging my husband’s funeral in frightening detail, I thought about writing this post. What a relief.

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