In a fog with a blog

This sucks.  I read to my husband what I write and I can hear myself….only writing about Melanoma.  Well, I suppose that makes sense seeing that the title of my silly blog is ‘Holy Moly, Melanomy’.  I also suppose it makes sense that I've only had surgery a short 3 ½ months ago.  Wow.  When I think of it that way, it’s only been a very short 3 ½ ago.  It's very, very fresh.  I’m a newborn in this weird fog.

I don’t like this fog.  I hate it.  I like being able to see.  To see my life.  To see my husband‘s happy face.  To see me, being happy with everything.

This is lame.  Complete lame-sauce.

How do I get out of this fog?  A super thick, fear inducing fog?  I don’t know…  I can’t see any exit signs, and that scares me.  I don’t want to be scared.  I don’t like being scared.

I remember at times when I was at home sick from school and my mom had to work - I’d play this made-up game that I called “ten things”.  This may sound strange to some of you.  When I was home alone and felt scared or I heard a noise that made me feel like someone was breaking in, I’d look around in whatever room I was in and look for 10 things that I could possibly fatally wound someone with.   Yes, I just wrote “fatally wound“.  

The way that I could 'pass a level' in my ten things game would be if I could find those 10 fatal objects, then I could move on to the next room.  This was the way that I would get my mind off that evil mailman - which would scare me by making noise outside my house and would turn my dog into a bloodthirsty crazed wolf.  That room could be the kitchen - duh, super easy.  The bathroom was especially hard; what to do with a loofa, shower gel and a shower curtain?  Believe me, I’ve figured it out.  I have several potential weapons in every room.  With this game, I found courage.

Why don’t I have a weapon to battle my thoughts?  I found courage by looking around my house - thinking of 409, candle holders, toilet plungers and records as weapons. Why don't I have that same courage by looking inside myself?  Where is that same warrior in me?  She’s in there, along with all that raw courage, why can’t I find her again?

Craptastic Sundae

Lately I’ve been feeling a little down on myself.  This stupid asshole of a cancer has affected all aspects of my life.  I've been trying to focus on trying to get back to normal, which is no easy task.  Even though I was barely touched with Melanoma, that touch was enough to mentally jack me the hell up.  I suppose it was a little more than just a touch, it was more like an aggressive shoulder check.  

It’s affected everything.  Every. Thing.  My work was affected.  I can't help but think if I didn't have this stupid shit, then I wouldn't have obsessed on it and I'd probably still have a job....even though it was technically a "lay-off".  My relationship with my husband has been affected.  I have a terrible time opening up and I've been just a little bit more koo-koo in the last week than I normally am (due to obvious reasons).  My sleep has been affected, luckily the last few days have been fine - but I normally only get a couple of good night's sleep a week.  And last but definitely not least, my emotions and thoughts have been affected.  They were already screwy to begin with so that part has been particularly super fun to deal with!  (I'm so sorry honey - things will get better, I promise!)

Throwing in a job loss on top of all the ways that Melanoma has affected my life has just been splendid.  Absolutely splendid.  I've got some sort of stress rash on my belly - at least that's what I am calling it even though it's not itchy.  Lots of little, teeny patches of angry skin.  Why, it's the perfect cherry topper to my craptastic sundae!  I've tried vitamin E, cortizone cream, super moisturizing lotion and it's not really getting any better...it's sort of getting worse.  Hey - now I have time to get to the doctor!

This sucks.

This morning I woke up at 3:30, wide awake.  My first thought was 'Go back to sleep, you need to get up for work in a couple of hours'.  Oh yeah, wait a second, it's Friday, I can stay awake or go back to sleep and actually sleep in.  Wait a second, I lost my job...      Shit.

That's right folks, I lost my job.  Not like oh-it's-lost-and-I-can't-find-it, but I was let go.  I was laid off.  I was cut.  I am no longer working.  There is no easy way to say it...or type it.  Add that to my list of stresses.

This sucks.

I cried a little bit during my "exit interview" though I held it together while I packed 5 years of my work life into a box (which I totally forgot about an entire drawer - my oatmeal must feel so left behind).  I lost it when I got home.  The hubs hugging me while I was totally shaking and crying in his arms.

This fucking sucks.

I've been laid off before, it's never easy.  You have to come to terms with being "the one" that the company can do without.  The last two companies that I've worked at I was laid off twice from each one...they let me go, called me back and then let me go again months to years later.  You can always tell when it was coming because your boss tends to avoid you.  This time was no different.  I knew it was coming; I've been mentally preparing for it for the last several weeks.

Driving home was surreal.  This was a drive that I've done for over 5 years.  Good news - I don't have to deal with the stupid toll road increases anymore...or gas prices.  Ha!  I can't afford them anymore!  My intestines started hurting almost immediately; it's a distinct, sharp pain. I had to drive while putting pressure on my lower stomach.  My kidneys hurt, could be all the wine I had last night - yeah, that's probably it.

Now it's time to get my mind right; it hasn't been "right" for a couple months now.  I'm not really the same person since Melanoma forced itself into my life.  I can use this time to learn how to relax, maybe meditate or some shit like that.  I don't want to spend time being sad, I've already done enough of that over the last 6 months.  I'd rather spend time looking forward to a new chapter in my life...spending time getting back to ME.  Everything happens for a reason.