It’s day 3 post chemo and I don’t feel so great.
Although physically I feel ok minus the fatigue and a few aches, last night I had some. crazy dreams, and woke up in this weird funk. I moved bedrooms and went back to sleep.
Today I’m in this awful mood. Like I have nothing to live for. This sounds dramatic but I have to describe it as thus because it’s true. Nobody ever tells you how the drugs mess with your mind. They don’t warn you. They tell you about aching legs and watery eyes but not about feeling so down and so hopeless. “I can’t do this” I said to my dad. He tells me I have to, and I know he’s right. I’ve been here before. I know the drill. In a few days I will feel happier again, but still I must endure this helplessness and nothing to live for feeling for a few days, six times in concession.
Sometimes I think dying is a better alternative to going through chemo and treatment twice. I think that’s ok to say right? It wouldn’t be so bad perhaps if we were just treating a recurrence or another breast cancer. This is different though, the treatment is keeping me alive or it may not work. It’s a massive gamble, one that you’re just expected by everyone around you to take.
I knew today’s post would be a bit of a downer, but even if they won’t tell you, I always will.