what an unbearably lonely place i find myself in.
any parent can easily imagine the abject heartbreak of having one's six year old offering comfort through her own tears. there are no words to answer the question, when it comes - 'mummy, what's wrong?'. i can't infect her with my own cynicism and misery, biting back the answer -'darling, what's right?'.
tonight, i couldn't breathe through my tears. i literally had a moment of suffocation, when i was totally unable to inhale.
and the worst part is this: we're only at day one of chemotherapy. the hard stuff hasn't even kicked in yet.
i just feel so incredibly helpless. the patient herself is unable or unwilling to articulate what is going on for her, how she's feeling, what she wants or needs. so i'm reduced to the status of an observer, jumping to attention if she asks for a drink, or needs a window opened.
as the little girls fight over how many pieces of toast one should have with her soup, i want to scream - who cares about the fucking toast??!!! in fact, though i don't scream, i do shout; but i don't swear....
i'm struggling with how to articulate all of this emotion. raised as i was by a woman incapable of sharing her emotions (i didn't even realise she HAD them!) this is an extremely uncomfortable reality for me. if i share my fear with my kids, will they take it on? if i express my sadness, will they too become sad? can i possibly burden them with this?
and if i keep it all hidden, push it down inside until the dark, quiet, sleeping hours when no one can hear me - what am i teaching them? am i perpetuating this familial dysfunction, this generational inability to express, to share? am i cementing myself in their psyches as a cold, closed, unemotional, distant being.....?
and, lo, it's raining.....again!
it seems all the world is water. and here am i testing the theory of bouyancy........will i float? or will i sink, and drown in despair?
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