This weekend was hard. My 'Period app' says I come on in 5 days, which may explain my lack of bulletproofing. But it doesn't really help me escape sadness.
I was reading a book to keep myself sane while I rested after my chemo: 'The Husband's Secret'. And came across a piece that just made me cry and cry - I quoted it here for you in my signature pic above. This is a letter from a father to his daughter who has just found out her husband was in love with another woman. He bought her an old compass. And sent it to her with this note.
And my sadness is because my father would never do that. Acknowledge my pain. Try to do something to soothe me. Hold me close until I feel better. Even now, as I have been through the most horrific year of my life, the one thing my mother and father have not done is surround me. Acknowledge my fear and my pain. Hold me a bit. Where have I ever gone when I'm in pain? Into my bedroom. Alone. Cried into my pillows. Or my fluffy toys. I remember buying myself a huge Pink Panther soft toy when I was about 12. I doused it with the aftershave 'Brut', and it became my safe place for a while. I could shed my brokenhearted tears there and breathe in the masculine scent of that Brut, and imagine some strong man was holding me and I was snuggling into his shoulder. My dad never wore Brut. But one of my primary school boyfriends did.
But I don't remember looking for, or finding, comfort from my folks.
And suddenly I missed that. Seeing how a dad just connects in with his daughter. Acknowledges her pain. Holds her from far away. Shows his own vulnerability for a moment to help her feel less alone. My dad can't do that. He relies on me to hold him. I'm his rescuer. He can't do that for me.
So I held onto the loneliness myself. On my couch at home, reading my book. Sent WhatsApp messages out to everyone in my 'inner circle'. But didn't get much response. Wanted something caring and soothing from Mark, or Bush Man, or Berlin. But nothing from them. Read my message. Didn't reply. Left me alone. Sad really. A couple of my girlfriends connected in gently. I should be glad of that, but the sadness of being ignored by my boys feels heavier. I know I should be holding myself. I'm trying. But this ache is deep in me. By about four o clock was SO over feeling that heavy pain. So, despite the chemo in my body I just polished off half a bottle of wine - not a lot unless you take it with chemo. The numb self medication hit in and I started to feel relieved. Less sore. Less needy. The demons retreating a bit for me.
I understand why people become addicts and alcoholics. So tempting to just keep that pain permananetly at bay.
In the middle of my life I'm finding I'm changing everything. Midlife crisis? Open Marriage. Selling Business. Moving house. Turfing Narcissists. Dealing Autoimmune and Stress issues. This blog is helping me unpack that journey. And the Pink Book is the journal where I began to write myself well. Journey with me. Let's learn together. (Title Pictures all sourced via Pinterest.com)
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