It seems giving your partner permission to read your blog as a sign of trust and faith, hoping beyond hope that she won’t ever use your personal musings and truths against you in any way, isn’t the wiser decision. I had hoped that in doing so, it would provide some assurance that my blog is no longer filled with sad laments over a love gone by…
I was wrong.
And now, as a fucked up kind of punishment, she has gone to her first radiation treatment without me. This is big. Bigger than I can express.
I’ve been here. At her side. Through her Cancer. From day one. From delivery of the news. Thru 2 hour surgery. Thru 5-hour post recovery. Thru holding puke buckets made out of party hats. Thru showing her beauty in her broken breasts. Kissed her jagged scars. Held her hand thru the fear. The doubt. Slowed her mind when it raced with dire “What if’s’… And reminded her constantly, that she is MORE than her Cancer. That SHE hasn’t changed. And is still a beautiful human being. Inside and out.
It hasn’t been an easy path for her. For either of us. And when she told me there was still time to run, a part of me wanted to. Out of fear. I’ve lost to Cancer before. It devastated me. But I didn’t run. I stayed. Figured if she could brave it out. So could I.
And now I am shut out.
I don’t know in this instant which is more upsetting. Being woken from sleep with accusation and anger from a post written at 10 and read at 2. Or being left out of the beginning stage of this extremely frightening-to-her, questionable healing.
Whether it’s just for today, out of anger. Or whether she decides to do the radiation treatments all on our own. Today marked a beginning of… something. I’ll still hold the puke party hats. Soothe her brow. Tell her she’s beautiful. Inside and out. And I will see her through this whether she wants me to or not. But today, there has been a shift.
I am way beyond sensible thought. Way beyond expressing my deeper feelings. I am overwhelmed. Dumbstruck. And hurt.
And all I have at this exact moment is this. My little blog. Which I realize now, has been spoiled for me twice over by the intimate sharing with my partners. Consciously or not.
I no longer write from my heart. I no longer speak from my soul. I curb. Control. And edit me relentlessly. I’ve almost stopped writing at all. I’ve killed it’s true intent. Which was writing meant for MY self-expression. I’ve missed the freedom I once had here. Lately, it’s felt like little by little myself is crumbling away. It’s time to reclaim this part of me at least. Here. Where I do have complete control. The rest will come with the therapy that starts in two weeks.
Ya…I’m finally going.
Ann, Stephen, Monster, Turtle, Stacey, Crystal, Tikeetha, Family Values, Daniel, Assentively, Dawn To Don, and any more of you who wish to follow me and continue with your much welcomed and needed input, I’ll send the password if you ask. First, I need to figure out the logistics of making this blog private. Shouldn’t be too difficult.
But for now…
I don’t need my truth used against me. I want my personal space back. I want me back. With all my flaws and angst and wordiness and emotionalism and crazy and love. I deserve that.
Time to make this blog private.
So be it.