Considering the almost-several dozen emails and comments I've received asking for an update, I guess it's time to break the silence. I'm sorry I haven't updated or responded to emails or peeped to say Hi! I'm alive! but honestly, I've been pinching myself pretty hard these last few weeks to convince myself of this fact. I have bruises to prove it.
I think I've reached the end of what I can plausibly say is a normal amount of loss in, say, a six-month span of time. And it's kind of fucking with my head. Or that part we refer to as the heart, I don't know. All I know is that I'm tired, so very very tired.
I lost someone dear to me in November. My mom announced her cancer diagnosis January 1st. Somewhere between those dates a friend decided we weren't actually friends which made me sad momentarily but was ultimately pushed aside by Sadder and more Serious issues. It's a loss, certainly, but one I can't do much about. I wish I could, and it would have been nice to have her on my team right now, but she's not and I kind of understand why even if I don't agree with with it. Anyway, that's that. My mom had surgery, a couple weeks went by before the results came back, and when they did we found out she has invasive lobular carcinoma, grade three. She was told it was stage three but that there was no lymph node involvement, which confuses me. I would have pressed to find out more, but then two days after we found out her diagnosis, our friend passed away unexpectedly.
Gail was a friend of my mom's and her daughter, Jessica, is one of my best and probably oldest friends. She was only a couple years older than my mom. I saw her when I went back for my mom's surgery. Jessica dropped by her mom's house when they were supposed to go out one night, Gail didn't feel well so decided to stay in, and when Jessica dropped by a couple hours later her mom was dead.
Gail was my other mom, the other woman in my life who was always there. She took us to the beach, and introduced me to Havarti and lentil soup, and spent two hours with me on the phone while I sat in a closet to get away from my roommate. She was loving and funny and vivacious and caring. And now she is gone.
This is the thing -- my mom's diagnosis was worse than we expected. My surrogate mother died leaving one of my best friends completely bereft. And I haven't been able to cry about either situation. Fuck, I haven't even been able to feel sad.
I don't feel anything right now. A bit angry, I guess. But otherwise . . . nothing. I literally haven't had anything more than slightly damp eyes for Gail. Intellectually I feel terrible for Jessica and everything she is bound to go through, I feel bad for myself, but I can't actually feel the loss. My mom starts chemo in a few weeks for a cancer which is rather aggressive and likely to show up in the other breast, but I don't even think about what that might mean. And when I do, I'm detached.
When my friend was killed in November, I spiralled into such a depression, I scared myself. When I found out my mom had cancer, I was devastated. But I think I've reached my capacity. I can't process any more bad news. And it worries me. I think it's keeping me from experiencing emotions I should probably be experiencing. I can't even imagine what it must look like to other people. I can't even imagine how it might play out in the future.
Sometimes when I find myself talking to people about what's been happening in my life lately, I wonder if they think I make it all up. Because it just seems like too much.