I'm very depressed about being at home. I feel helpless, even though i'm not. I feel like a prisoner in my own life. It's a horrible feeling to know that you're stuck somewhere. No matter how much you want to fly, you're a caged bird. That is maybe the worst part of this entire cancer thing.
I knew from the beginning that I would get better. I assumed it would happen fast, and i'm thankful that it did. The biggest issue I have, is that everyone in my life seems to think i'm incapable of surviving without assistance. This is tough for me to accept, being independent and hating to rely on others.
When I was in the hospital, even when I couldn't walk, i'd get my own towels, a change of clothes, have a shower without sitting down, etc. I functioned on my own, when by all logic, I should have been in a coma. I kept track of my own meds, knew when I needed blood, etc.
I understand that the fact that I nearly died, has made my mother want to cling on as tightly as possible, and not let go, because she loves me. However, it's also a selfish thing for her. She loves the idea of being needed. She loves coming to give me my pills in the morning, and sitting beside me at every doctor's appointment (whether I want her to, or not.) This is creating a very large problem.
I don't need her, right now. This morning, she asked me if I needed her to iron my shirt, and I said no, that I had no problem doing it. Then she turned into the biggest bitch on the planet, because I wanted to iron my own damn shirt! Most mothers of 23 year old women would be thrilled they were ironing their own clothes, when somebody else offered...not mine.
I can't imagine having to stay here for another year. Every time I mention work, or getting better, somebody shuts me down and tells me i'm jumping the gun. I'm not jumping the fucking gun! There is no more cancer! I am fully functional, and would be self-sufficient if they would just let me.
And so, this life they've forced me not to have, has me wondering what the point of surviving cancer is? If everyday, I sit locked away in my room, not doing anything, why did I fight so hard to get better? Often, when we're driving somewhere, I imagine drifting into oncoming traffic and colliding with a transport truck, to put me out of my misery. I'm that depressed.
The idea of surviving cancer is to have a new appreciation for life, to do everything you never did, but always wanted to, not to rot in a godforsaken house, in a shithole town, with family members, that you can't stand, half of the time. I shouldn't be plotting my death. All I want in this world, is to be able to get away from here.
I need to be rescued again.
You know what else is seriously upsetting? People keep making comments to me about my baby sister. My BABY sister. She is a beautiful girl, but when guys I know mention it, it's a bit upsetting, because most of the guys I know are not the kind of guys I want to have to worry about her dealing with. I think of all the things they share with me about their lives, their girlfriends, etc. and I worry that she'd end up in the middle of that mess, someday.
I don't want her to be somebody like me, who constantly finds their self emerged in crap from guys. She deserves so much better than that.
So of course, I flipped out at Scott for it, as he was the third person in about 5 minutes to comment on a photo of her and I, and he got the brunt of it. Nevertheless, he is the epitome of what I don't want for her. I know how much he's hurt me, and continues to hurt me. I don't ever want that for her. Ever.
This resulted in a "Go fuck yourself, Jessica." because i'm not allowed to judge him on what he says about all the girls. (Even though he says it to me deliberately, to hurt me.)
Drama, drama, drama. He's worse than I will ever be.
I could really use a prince, about now, if anyone is interested in the job...i'm accepting applications. Bonus points to a prince who lives away from here. haha