This vacation needs to come faster.
I leave for the British Virgin Islands soon. Chris and I along with some family and friends will spend a week on a private yacht – and just cruise around and enjoy our surroundings. It will be one of the most glorious trips I have ever, and will ever go on.
And I need it – desperately. Yesterday I had an ultrasound on my ovaries. My new surgeon needed to take a better look at the tumour in order to decide whether to operate or not. Laying there in a darken room on the table, as the tech pressed hard over my right ovary in order to get a better photo – I began to cry. Not only did it hurt, but it was another hospital room where I was just staring up at the ceiling – wondering how I got here. In these moments I feel very alone. No one else will experience this with me. No one else will understand the pain and discomfort I was in. No one else can experience all of the flashes of different rooms that quickly run through my mind while I lay there.
The internal examine was even more of a trigger. Now I’m laying there experiencing all of the same mental triggers, but I’m also trying to deal with even more pain and discomfort as she probes my inside trying to get even better photos of this massive tumour. It was terrible.
After she was done, she needed to have a doctor sign off that there were enough shots, so I was left alone. For 20 minutes I laid there, with a thin sheet covering my naked lower half, in a darkened room, staring up at the ceiling just slowly crying. It was the type of tears that you can feel drop by drop start to well up in your eyes, and then you can sense when the last one will spill over and run down your cheek. I call these type of tears my “lonely tears”. I shed them when I’m alone, in a more public place, and I’m trying ever so hard not to have a full meltdown. So I breathe heavy out through my mouth and try to calm down so no one around me can tell.
What’s hilarious about all of this was the fact that on my Instagram, I was posting about if I should purchase a new Gucci bag. So everyone just thinks I’m out having a grand old time shopping and spending all of my money. Maybe some of them thought how stupid I am to want to spend $1500 on a purse. Maybe some of them just sat there and judged away – not knowing why I needed that pick me up. Is it realistic to spend a mortgage payment on a Gucci purse? No, of course not. However in these moments I don’t give a fuck what is “realistic” and I just want something that can help take away the pain that exists in my mind. If buying that purse gives me even 5 minutes of pure joy – then it is worth it to me. If when I wear it people focus more on how beautiful it is than how many white heads are on my chest and neck – then it’s worth it. If when I put it on I smile and feel confident in my outfit that day – then it’s worth it. Yes, these monetary things give me joy and I am not ashamed of that. I’ll do and spend anything to find these little moments of happiness in this shitty life I am forced to live.