Something I started a while ago, but I’m not entirely sure where I’m going with it.

Today is the first day that I’m going to admit that I’ve been sick. It’s been almost three years now, that I’ve been cancer free but I’ve had a hard time recovering. I managed to hide it from most people. I don’t think they’d see me the same way if they knew I wasn’t really healthy. But what’s healthy for me isn’t healthy for other people. I still cough up blood when I have an attack. When I was going through treatment, it was normal – or at least it was for my situation at the time. Now, now I don’t know what’s going on with me. I sleep as little as four hours or as long as fourteen hours, never in between.

I’ve tried so hard to be healthy, you know that? I’ve been going to the gym regularly, I’ve been eating well, but each time I think I’m safe, something happens and I fall back. I feel as if I’m drowning in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and no one can see me. I’m completely alone.

I want someone to come save me. But when people look at me what they see is this well put together woman. They don’t see all the tiny cracks on the surface. They don’t see that one fall and I’d break. I’d be shattered into a million little pieces.

I woke up today and thought to myself, this is going to be a good day, I’m going to make it be a good day, but now I’m scared. What if things aren’t great? What do I do then? All my optimistic and positive thoughts are shot straight to hell.

Last night I spoke to both my roommates about what’s been going on with me. They were completely blown away by it. I guess because they didn’t expect it? Because I seem so, normal as one of them put it. I don’t look sick. That made me smile. We cried together and then we made a pact. It’s odd how close you become whilst away from home. Is it because you know that these people are, more or less, in the same situation as you – away from home with no support? I’m going off topic. I really feel better after talking to them last night. I slept really well last night. I feel less tired this morning.

Yesterday night was a hard night though. I’ve been taking medication and it really doesn’t help me, but I stopped taking it and was scolded like a five year-old, by my doctor. I’ve been taking them for almost four months now and I honestly don’t see a difference in the way I feel – if anything I feel worse. In the wee hours of the morning I woke up to go to the toilet and I don’t know how but sometimes when I’m peeing I start crying. I know when I start crying that I’m about to empty out my insides. I feel as if I have no control over my body – it does what it wants. It happened twice. There was no crying the second time. I ran to the toilet and hugged it as if it was my best friend I’d not seen in ages.

But when I woke up this morning at six I felt good. I woke up before my alarm went off and I stayed in bed. The thing I love about waking up before others is the silence. I keep my both my bedroom windows open and I love the cool breeze in the morning. I love the silence.

I had a cup of coffee yesterday; the waitress gave me the dirtiest look when I asked for two spoons of skim, not cream. I think she thought I was odd, which I am. I was okay for most of the day but towards the end of the day I could feel my heart beating throughout my entire body. I’m not sure how to describe the feeling, but it wasn’t something to brag about. I could see my chest move to the rhythm of my heart and it scared me. It’s normal apparently. Well only if I consume copious amounts of caffeine. I knew I shouldn’t have had it, but I just needed to taste the bitterness, swirl it around my mouth with my tongue, and feel it go down my throat and into my stomach. I needed to taste that flavour. Perhaps the five cups were a bit much, but it was worth it.

Did I tell you I thought I was in love? Silly me, I forgot that love between a man and a woman doesn’t exist. Things are over now, but at the time my heart actually ached. I felt like I had really bad indigestion but I hadn’t eaten and then a friend told me, that’s loneliness. And I’m thinking to myself, since when am I lonely? I’m constantly surrounded by people, but then I realized not one of those who I call a friend knows me. I sit here writing in my diary and close my eyes, I take a deep breath and slowly exhale, smiling at the silly notion of me possibly being in love. I wish the idea of love could exist for me and I wish I knew what’s wrong with me, but I guess I wish for too much.

I have always known that my demise is an eventuality.
Although slow, I know it’ll soon take my breath away;
motionless, I’ll lay in my own filth.

I’ll wait for something…anything
what I hope will free me is my faith.
I have faith that this wasn’t how it was meant to end.

I know because I have a feeling…
In me I have a sudden hope that things will be better
It’s too bad that the feeling I have is a distant memory

It was all just an illusion,
that’s life though, isn’t it?
That faint hope was like a rainbow, there but not really mine.

Something I found tucked away in my notebook and thought I’d share.

If there are any freelance writers out there looking for work (and you don’t mind working with a start-up) leave me a comment and I’ll get back to you.

No one ever told me standing up for myself would be so incredibly difficult. There wasn’t one person in my life who voiced their concerns about where I’d end up if I continued down this path.
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