With all my heart, I thank each one of you

Honestly? Sometimes I hesitate about sharing because I know that these feelings will pass...just not as quickly as I want...so true of most of us probably

The masks...
The past couple of years have been character-builders
aka crappy in many ways.
I've become very comfortable at hiding many things. It started with the abuse, through the war, then detox, and the years that followed...
Perhaps many of us do much the same thing--we don't want others to see our pain/loneliness/weariness.

My battles with the cancer were obviously hard on the body, but spiritually I became the comforter of my loved ones...family and friends. I reassured them; not the other way around.
I must take responsibility for my part in this. I've always been aggressive about health care/patient advocate. This gives me knowledge but not necessarily courage.
Although retired, I've kept up with credentials and my license is current. Great for times I needed money and could manage working. Questionable when it comes to knowing the details of treatment protocol and prognosis.
Folks assume that this is going to magically offer a cure.
It does not. Sometimes it generates fear and sorrow.

The third time around we made the decision to stop the chemo. It was making me sicker...I believe it was long enough to hold things at bay. We--my health care team and myself--did what we could to build up my immune system. It was necessary for me to have surgery on my spine or go back into the wheelchair and endure more pain.

All of this took a great deal of "my life' away from me.
Things that helped define who I am were gone...peace activist, court advocate for domestic violence survivors, volunteer with a local shelter working with the homeless--this one was my special baby. When I was drinking/doping, I was homeless and an itch with a capital B. I still had my sidearm and was not afraid to use it, which I did, if I was being threatened in any way. My only killing was the attack in Nam...but I imagine that sidearm scared the life out of a few folks.
Behind the mask of the ***** was a very sad and lonely woman.

Spiritually I do get drained and I know other survivors do the same thing. I try all the things in my safety net and I'm usually successful.
Sometimes like these past few months, none of them work.
It's all right though. I can retreat into my sanctuary and weep and eat popcorn, read sexy books, play Joplin and remember my bike riding days, down 11 root beers, stay up til 4am then sleep til 4pm...
Not my usual ladylike ways of handling life, but it works for me.

Before I deleted my message, I felt safe enough to share...then my damn ego kicked in and I deleted it.
It's much easier for me to share about the past but I'm a bit about the present...for some reason, I think at my age I should be "over" everything and be a sub for Mother Teresa.

So now I feel a wee bit bruised but better.
I'm going to the grocery store and bug the heck out of the manager
He has graciously started helping me shop since I knocked over a display with one of my animals, aka crutches, while searching for the perfect orange. Hey, they shouldn't have piled them so high, right?
He's bald with ramrod straight posture and Sexy, Sexy. He thinks I'm a crazy old broad...

With gratitude and love,
Cap