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Thursday, February 2, 2012

Grasping...

That's what I've been doing. Grasping. Flailing. Clinging. Raising and waving my hand in the air. Signing up for way too much. Taking responsibility for things that are not mine or certainly not entirely mine. For the last couple of months I've been desperately attempting to fill every space possible with ME so that when I'm gone, there will be a gigantic hole and someone will notice the lack - the loss - the fact that I'm not there. I guess it comes down to that fear of annihilation. Poof! Gone! Like I never existed.

It's all ego, I know. It's the idea of having not have mattered that gnaws at me. That I have been so busy solving my own problems, some of which I brought on myself I might add, that I made no impact. No significant contributions. No matter.

So I volunteer for everything that comes up. If I see something not being taken care of or, in my opinion, mishandled, I take it on. Look at what I can do! I matter, damn it! I matter! Won't someone notice me now so that you'll notice when I'm gone?!

It comes from having cancer that's stable or in remission, I think. Life goes on as normal when it really, really isn't.

And then the guilt from being so pathetically unthankful that your cancer is stable and that you're not suffering your slippery way on the downhill slope.

Like I've said before, one of the biggest challenges of cancer is the head game. Lose it and you're doomed to die a thousand deaths before they actually plant you.

Ugh.