Reach by Collective Soul

In the past week, I've experienced a series of punches to my gut … and heart … that have made me wanna cry.

On Wednesday Jan 30th, my mom called me to tell me my cousin Lisa had had a relapse in her Cancer and went into surgery on Monday for a complete and total mastectomy. Lisa had been doing GREAT and I wanna say she was in her 4th (maybe 5th) year of remission. She'd done chemotherapy and radiation already, and was coming back from it pretty well. When ya' look at her, with her shoulder-length black hair and perpetual smile, you'd never guess what she's been through and now she has to start all over again.

The doctors came out and spoke to Lisa's husband (Marty) and Lisa's mom (Verna). Verna (my mom's sister & my aunt) is a medical lawyer. In CA, this means she went completely through medical school, picked a specialty, practiced it for more than 5 years, and then started on her legal education to become a practicing attorney. Suffice to say, Verna is no dummy. Lisa's doctor explained to Verna what they'd done, and then Verna translated it into "real person speak" for Marty. So Mom called me to give me the unfortunate news. I digested this for an hour or so. And then I picked up the phone and made an appointment for my first mammogram in late February. Considering the combined medical histories of my mom, myself, two of my three aunts, and two of my cousins, waiting until I was 39 was probably unwise, but I at least made the call and set up the appointment.

I spent the rest of my day avoiding thinking too hard. When you work at home, with no interruptions but the occasional yawning of a cat, you have a LOT of time to spend in your head. I've been battling (unsuccessfully, as it turns out) the Winter blues. I have NO desire to spend time in my head - I know what's there. I have plans, and some pretty great changes happening later this year, so I've been preparing myself for that time. In looking at this now, I have been ignoring myself. Probably not the BRIGHTEST thing I've done – but (and Scott can attest to this actually), I'm best at taking care of everyone else. If there's no one else that I can take care of but me, I find a task and bury myself in it – be it selling a business, sprucing up a home to sell, traveling to the South to be productive in rebuilding a community, etc. I find me boring. I am not worth my time. Wow – that's interesting to write.

So anyway … on Friday, Feb 1st, my mom called me to tell me that Verna has been diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. She would have about three years if she went through chemotherapy. Thing is, Verna has never been blessed with good health. She became a doctor because she spent so much of her childhood ill. ("Ill" as in "she spent 2 of her 4 years in high school totally bedridden".) Her doctors told her that her body will not tolerate chemo. Without chemo, her doctors have told her that she probably has a year. My mom is devastated. Of her three siblings, she has but one sister – and her two brothers dropped out of the family quite awhile ago. This is her older sister. My mom was in her early 20s and she (and Verna) watched their father die of lung cancer. It was, in my mom's words, "a death I would wish on no human being. Ever." And now she will watch as her sister experiences it first-hand.

I hung up the phone, experiencing deep sadness for my mom, and my aunt, and my cousin … but I noticed I was not crying. I actually *noticed* this. Now, I cry at Hallmark ads. I cry when I read a sad story. I cry at slow, sad songs. But even with ALL this tragic news happening in my family … not a tear. "Good for me", I thought. All in all, I was handling this pathos pretty well.

It was later that day, when the person I'm closest to, the person who I've spent almost a year getting to know and falling deeply in love with, the person with whom I'd like to build a future, decided that I am so deeply stuck in my blues, he needs to distance himself from me.

And I seem to have NO problem crying now.

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It's been a couple of days since I've had all this occur. I have wallowed and begged and pleaded. I've sobbed and curled up and stared at my email, willing for an escape. I've TRIED to go about my day, only to return home, having done nothing, because it's not safe for me to drive when I cannot see. I have reached out annnnnd curled back up again. I've *tried* to sleep and find myself waking at 2am, sometimes 3am, in tears. I am trying to give distance, but I have lost a friend, and I miss him greatly.

I'm not stupid - this isn't good. I have come to the conclusion you've all probably had of me for awhile now. I believe I need help. So my new thing for 2008, it seems, will be to get professional help. I need to do this. For me. Those around me will benefit in some fashion, I'm sure, but this - this is completely for me.

The thing is … and this isn't easy for me but I gotta do it ... I'm probably gonna need y'all to help me out a little, ok? That means reaching out. I'm asking you to please reach out to me. It may be uncomfortable for you to do so but, if it helps at all, I'm NOT comfortable asking.

And I'd apologize for my extra-long post today, but I'm not sorry about it. I have too many other things to be sorry about.