I'm Sorry I Feel So Bad

I need Clay, desperately.

I keep getting ambushed by panic attacks. My friend just informed me that she took a job in NYC and will be moving there. That’s great news, but after I e-mailed my congratulations to her I was instantly struck by panic and anger. I thought, “She gets to make this move with her husband, together with her husband. She still has a husband and they have been married for years. They bought and fixed up a home together. They made the decision to move together. They are together.”

My husband is gone. I don’t have what she has. Why me? Why did this have to happen to me? I didn’t deserve this. I don’t deserve this.

This is so unfair.

For the past year and a half I have been denying my own hardships and tragedies, asking myself, “How can I say anything bad has happened to me? Chris had cancer. CANCER. I don’t have cancer. I’m fine, so I should just keep my mouth shut and stop complaining.” It isn’t true though. What happened to ME is also tragic. A horrible event has occured in my life and I am feeling very much destroyed over it.

I suppressed nearly every single one of my emotions for the entire fourteen months that Chris was battling his illness. I am like a volcano back filled with pressure that threatens to erupt over and over again. All that anger and white-knuckled terror I kept shut up inside of me is beginning to bubble up into red-hot anger. I have been so cheated. ME. I have had a hard time, too. I haven’t been pumped full of chemo or stuck with needles or buried under mountains of pain killers and anti-nausea drugs and impossible medication schedules and memory loss and the inability to walk on my own swollen, disappearing ankles but I HURT, TOO. I have been destroyed by this monster. I lost the one man in my life who has ever shown me what it means to be loved, unconditionally. He’s gone and I am terrified by the thought of never finding that level of love again.