Emotions

Some mornings I wake up and the world is a happy and marvelous place. 

Other mornings, the world is too wound up.  Anxious.  Unhappy.  Angry.

The last few weeks have been kind of amazing.  I've been focusing on allowing myself to feel my emotions - experiencing and embracing them instead of ignoring them and pushing them away. 

I'm recognizing that not all the emotions I'm experiencing are my own.  A lot of emotions I feel are coming from the people around me.  Somehow I'm picking up on their feelings and turning them into my own.

And it's such a relief to know that most of the negative things I feel aren't my own.

I'm learning to handle (and in some cases, avoid) those borrowed emotions.

Yay! :)

Looking Back and Moving Forward

Just read through my old posts - I used to be so full of hope.

There's an ugly voice in my head.  It's been my companion for a while now - I think it started speaking up when my mom got sick at the end of 2011.  I hate it.  It criticizes and scoffs at so much.  It tears me down.  It makes me listless and empty.  It is spiteful and mean, horrible and dark.

I'm going to kill it. 

Worst Christmas Ever

This is going to be my worst Christmas ever.

Last year was my best Christmas. Hands down. Even if I did get my heart broken by a silly boy. Want to know why? Because my mom - diagnosed with stage four lung cancer - lived. In fact, she got better. So much better that by the time it was mid-January, she didn’t even need to use supplemental oxygen anymore. It was a miracle.

In October 2011, my mom was diagnosed with the cancer. There were tumors everywhere. In her lungs. In her liver. In her bones. Even in her brain. The oncologist said she had less then six months to live.

I was devastated, to say the least.

Everyone told me (in private of course) that she wasn’t going to make it to Christmas last year. Doctors would pull me aside and warn me to be prepared. Not my dad. Or my brother.  Just me. 

It was pretty horrible.

And now, here I am.  A year later.

It’s Christmas Eve, fifteen minutes before midnight (okay, it was 15 minutes before midnight when I started writing this).  Before it’s officially Christmas.  And I’m sitting in front of my computer drinking wine. 

Why?

Because I know that things aren’t going well with my mom.  She just finished 4 brutal months of IV chemotherapy. Essentially injecting poison into herself in hopes that it’ll kill off the cancer before it kills her.  And according to the last body scan, she has 2 tumors in her lungs.

Compare that to Halloween, when the doctor said that all the nodules in her lungs were completely resolved. 

Completely resolved people!! 

That means there were no more tumors in her lungs. Nada. They were eradicated!!

I was so happy I cried the entire day.

But I guess good news doesn’t last long. End of November, during the second to last session of the treatment, I find out that there’s a new tumor on the upper right side of her lung.

Somehow, I clung onto hope. I was sure that the next appointment in December would be good news. Wait, no. I was absolutely positive that it would be spectacular news. 

I genuinely thought the doctor was going to make the diagnosis that my mom was officially in remission. 

Of course, that didn’t come to pass.

Not only that, but there’s a new “hot spot” in her lower left lung. The doctor tried to assure us that it wasn’t necessarily the cancer. It could be anything. We wouldn’t know until a few months down the line.  Only time would tell.

The doctor managed to convince my parents that things were okay. That the new chemotherapy treatment was going to manage everything. 

Too bad the “new” treatment my mom is on consists of the two drugs that have failed to keep her cancer at bay. 

And who is the doctor trying to kid? If someone has lung cancer, and there’s a “hot spot” in their lungs, chances are it’s the cancer coming back. Not to mention the fact that there’s already a new tumor on the right side of her lung.

There’s absolutely nothing I can do but paste a smile on my face and pretend that everything is okay. Pretend that SHE'S going to be okay. Pretend that soon the rounds of torturous chemotherapy will be a distant memory. Pretend that my world isn’t falling apart once more.

I honestly don’t know if my mom understands what’s going on. What the new tumors mean. But I’m not going to tell her. Not now. Not during the holidays when she is so happy.

I’m not going to ruin that for her or the rest of my family. It’s the least I can do. I didn't realize how difficult it was going to be, to attend all the family holiday dinners, look each cousin in the eye, and tell them that "Why yes, my mom is doing wonderful. Thank you so much for thinking of her and being my emotional support."

I'm trying so hard to look on the positive side. I've had an extra year with her. 365 extra days she wasn't supposed to have. But it's hard. Almost impossible.

Anyways.

Merry Christmas and a happy New Year, everyone. Be happy. Love your loved ones. Celebrate every day, because each day truly is a gift.

and maybe, if you have some time, send some happy thoughts my way.

Silly me

I decided this morning to slowly get back into writing because I miss it. I miss the creating. So I turned on my Ipad to get some writing done at the library when I was hit by a horrible realization: I have no app dedicated to creative writing.

No joke, I had a mini panic attack. Then I wasted over an hour looking at different writing apps for the Ipad, when really, I don't need one! Why should I waste my time and money on an app that will no doubt distract more than motivate me? Silly me.

So I'm back-ish. To tell you the truth, I really don't know what I'll be writing. I just know that I missed it, and I need to write even when I'm not really writing.

My thoughts are even more jumbled and disorganized than before, but that's what proofreading is for! :)


Edit: 10 hours later... I caved and bought an organizational app called "Chapters". so far I like it! ^_^

Hiatus

This decision has been a long time coming: I have embarked on a new career path. The next 6 months will determine whether or not I'm cut out for this field.

It involves lots of schooling, and essentially the melt-down of my brain. This leaves very little brain matter left over for writing... not that I was doing much of it to begin with.

I'm terrified, but insanely excited.

So wish me luck! I'm definitely going to need it.

About ME!

I've just updated the "about me" section. I always like reading those sections because there's so much more to a person than meets the eye.

I'm disappointingly normal, so it's short and sweet. Plus, I don't really know what else to write about. I'm posting exactly what I've written there into a blog post. Cut & paste is so handy!

Madelein Eirwen is a penname - it's not even similar to my real name. There are a few reasons why I picked this pseudonym:

1) The initials spell out "ME," which I thought was perfect... dorky? Why yes I am!

2) I like madeleines. They're delicious. And they're cute. But mostly they're delicious.

3) "Eirwen" means "snow white" - I'm pale and allergic to apples so some people make fun of me by calling me snow white. as in "haha, we're having delicious apples with chocolate fondue and you can't have any cuz you'll die if you eat apples"

4) I play around with songwriting. Keeping writing and music separate seemed like a good idea.

I am taping my mouth shut forever

I am completely mortified!

Just called my cousin on the phone fully expecting to get his voicemail because he's at work. I was going to leave a very simple message: How've you been doing? Thinking about flying out and visiting sometime, what's your schedule like?

Only problem was, he picked up. In typical Me fashion, I panicked and made an ass of myself by using short, confusing, incoherent sentences. I know he thinks he's related to a complete idiot now... and that there's some sort of catastrophe I'm trying to deal with.

And I'm pretty sure he thinks my parents are plotting to get rid of me in some evil way.

Oh I fail at speaking.