Well if this wasn’t the week that never was I don’t know what would be. That sentence made sense in my jumbled thought ridden brain.
This was the week that was AKA Treatment week Cycle 2. AKA the week that almost did me in mentally and physically. I recorded my treatment day on snapchat (hello- addicted much?) and that was basically it. I didn’t venture outside in all the week. Felt like I had literally had a tonne of bricks fall on me and was in All.The.Pain.
ALSO would a liken it to having the worse flu that ever existed. What hasn’t helped is the fact my knee has swollen up. Which it shouldn’t, thats why I had the operation. My hands also.
So this week has been a blur mainly spent sleeping (can’t literally physically lift my body up before 12). I know that sounds LAZY. I feel lazy and lethargic. I feel guilty and crap and just not good enough at LIFE. Then I remember fuck that, my body was pumped full of all sorts of drugs plus the normal daily intake and I am currently fighting this beast of a disease that despite all the doctors best efforts just won’t calm the fuck down (there really is a lack of a better phrase for it). So yes, pain and my bodies immune system being forced to be more crap (thanks chemo) makes me one tired lass. I must keep reminding myself that, might get it as a tattoo. Not to force myself. To take time, to heal, not to compare to others, to realise that I am doing the best bloody job actually. All things considered (always all things considered). I deserve a bloody medal or something with coping with shit. I deserve a medal for brushing my teeth, getting dressed, making lunch and doing all those small mundane things that you normally take for granted. Those minute things that make me feel like I am literally climbing the biggest mountain at the highest altitude and can’t breathe. Those things are too much on weeks like this week. I went to the supermarket yesterday, highlight of the week innit. It literally did me in. I then watched eurovision on my sofa like an over excited child. Has my life actually come to this? Chronic disease brings on all sorts of bad feels. Like guilt and the feeling you are never enough or can never do enough. How does one break this cycle of feeling like that?
This week saw me start a project on trying to put all of this into some sort of cathartic, tangible form. For me that is through drawing and art. I hope at the end it will be good. I need to get printing stuff. I need to release all of this. I also need to remember I am doing it for me.
So the week that never was, I survived it (just…kicking and screaming if I had the energy). Medal please!
BTW I added some originals to my shop, so if anyone fancies supporting me through this it will muchly appreciated (especially as not earning a great deal- the spanish SS is not that great yannow): SHOP SHOP SHOP.