The Truth

Incurable. INCURABLE. Iiiiiincuraaabllleeee. The word just keeps rolling off my tongue. Consumes my mouth. Fills it. But what does it mean exactly?

Unable to cure.
Chronic.
Forever.
Not going away.
Always there.
Killing me.
                            Every.
                                               Single.
                                                                 Day.

Welcome to my life. This thought owns me. Especially lately. I thought I had become an expert at living 'day to day'. This is what I tell everyone anyways when constantly bombarded with the question of how I am handling everything. I smile and explain that I am just taking things day to day. Which is really just an optimistic way of saying that I simply neglect to think about my mortality or the fact that tomorrow may hold another poor prognosis. Living day to day is no way to live. It is just a means of surviving what life throws at you without actually feeling or living any of it. One might think it means living in the present. Being of present thinking and living in the now - how very New Age. 

But here is the truth. The truth is that every day in theory I get a little bit closer to dying. Everyday I am left untreated the cancer continues to grow and find new ways to thrive. Worse, every day I feel a little less healthy emotionally and mentally. Every day I simply survive rather than live I feel a little more empty. Numb.

This feeling is only magnified as I am again forced to stay at home. Unable to drive lately or even climb the stairs. My life is taken from me yet again. I am used to being in school, working two jobs, having a busy schedule. Now, with only one semester left after busting my ass in university for four and a half years, I am again forced to leave school. Instead I get to spend my days on the couch watching endless amount of Netflix and box sets my friends lend me. The pain is too bad to go back to work. I am too emotionally fucked up to focus on school. I have no kids. No one to care for. No purpose. At least that's how it feels. 

I feel...lost. I see support groups for people dealing with the loss of a loved one and I think, what happens when you lose yourself? How do you mourn then? The better question is, why are we not allowed to mourn our loss without our family members jumping in and telling us to "stay strong"..."try not to think too much about it"... "this is just one more bump in the road".

Well how many "bumps" can one person handle?