9th
Missed it…by “that much”
So as you know, I go “raw dog” on this cancer stuff, as my homies say back in the hood. (Raised in Eddystone, PA in case you’re wondering)
Raw dog it is.
This thing is 99.9% mental. Stay positive, feel positive. But hot trash on fire, sometimes I feel like that .1% has gotten to me. Emails look the same, days look the same…minutes tick slowly. It feels like prison.
The phone rings, and I want to jump off of a short roof that will maybe stub a toe to show that cancer how much I hate it.
Cancer is a douche, though. And doesn’t care how I feel.
When I’m down, I can feel my body fighting the war. I can feel every cell being killed off. Its hell sometimes. But that’s just sometimes.
A few days ago, I almost reached a breakdown point. A point where for the first time I said “This FUCKING sucks”. Not that I haven’t known it sucks…but it’s the first time I said it out loud.
But that in and of itself was kind of good, right? You can’t bottle EVERYTHING up. As hard as I try to, the harder it gets to do. So ya know what? Let that .1% out sometimes. Yell, cry. Scream at the cancer. Punch a pillow. Curse at it. Spit on it (as long as nobody is close by). Do what YOU need to do.
I’m getting better at this. But once you let it out, it feels like you plugged in your iPhone overnight and you’re all green.
It’s money, baby.
