Past, Present, Future, ?

16 October 2024

The end of October, 2020 was filled with a lot of trauma, looking back at it. Doped up on oxycodone, laying on the couch all day, scared and anxious since I was in contact with the hem/onc department... (Being taken up to the office for the first time like I had just been arrested; "Do you know why you're here today?", in an authorative tone from everyone in the room, parents too. Yes girl! I fucking know what an oncologist is. It's usually what follows a 17 year old girl with a very unusual mass in her pelvis.)

The next week or so I kept getting meds adjusted, kept trying to complete my schoolwork, kept cuddling with my cat, kept holding onto my relationships, kept trying to keep it up. Until it was November 11th. Then I got my official results of my biopsy....duh duh DUHH ! A rare tumor (usually found in people with a genetic disorder that I don't have). Not the spotlight that I wanted. At that point, too, I was what I would call "more half-dead than alive"; thanks to the lovely healthcare system that failed me over and over again ~~and continues to do so~~.

Anyways. I'm coming up on the 4th anniversary of that. It's a weird feeling. Because it's a long way to get to the place that I wanted to be. A very long way. Yet four years is a lot in terms of time out of recovery. And I know I am being way too hard on myself.... but I wanted more. This isn't what I want. Ever. And as I go on, living in my childhood home, it doesn't seem to get better for me here. My family members are so negative and toxic at times, and for WHAT?!. I'm not sure. They have legs that work; with no nerve damage. They can go out on walks, enjoy nature, enjoy the freedom, drive to a beautiful place, go to work, meet their friends, go on a ride for the hell of it, exercise without the fear of nasty reciprocity. I can't do any of that. I can't drive anymore, since everything that happened. Nobody likes taking me out. It's unsaid, but it is definitely felt through actions.

Rant over. I wanted to mention the present, too, because in about a day and a half, I have to go to an oncology appointment (Monday, the 28th; at the time of writing this. ). It's just a routine appointment, but I am absolutely fucking terrified, compared to other appointments of the past. It's been too long, and I am feeling really really anxious this time. I haven't felt the best as of late. I think most of it is mental; I've been depressed ~~gained more weight from it, too~~, super anxious, and facing a lot of inner turmoil due to feeling consistently failed by the systems that are praised to help us. Seriously. I had sepsis this year, and due to the greedy fucking practices of a certain hospital based in PGH, my local hospital couldn't see my diagnostics from the radiologists saying my kidneys looked weird but, basically, they(kidneys) were doing their best. SO they sent me on a 2 hour ambulance ride with no pain meds on the preface that my weird kidneys had some sort of mass/cancer, yet if they had access to my files, I could have avoided about a week of shitty treatment and been treated with the proper antibiotic at home!!!!

That was followed by a long, long, long fight (ongoing), with my insurance over a need for HBO therapy to heal my radiated insides. I can't begin to explain the anger and stress I've been feeling over this. This treatment is fairly approved for men with bladder damage due to radiation from prostate cancer. But me? I guess me and my pussy can go fuck myself. Honestly.

All that to say... I haven't been in the best headspace, which often results in me disregarding my physical needs at time. Which doesn't help with the fears that my body is, once again, decomposing. I talked with my therapist about this. She sorta helped me quell these worries, but they're still there (~~will they ever leave?~~). I want this life to be better for me. But I just can't seem to get it. Ever

As for the future, I am hoping that it all goes good. That my appointment can go smoothly without the input from either of my parents (divorced) selfishly interjecting. That I can take control over my own health, and my own life, and eventually get to a point of moving out. I need my own space; I feel constantly criticized for doing the little things that make me happy. I feel diminished, irritated, fucked off constantly, and when I finally express these feelings, I am made out to be some unreasonable, mean figure for it. Writing about my family like this, sorta helps me realize the reality of it, how much it affects me. If something is said out of some "joke", and it still makes me feel like fucking shit, then the intent doesn't really matter, does it? I really hope that I can get out of this house, and get my own place, and maybe, just maybe, my relationship with my family members will improve. I don't want to push them out of my life, but I will if something doesn't change. I'm hoping for a new place. I have an application, I just need to make sure it gets to the place. I think I'm ready for the next step into this weird future of mine. This is definitely it, considering no one in my family seems to have any motivation for growth and/or just fucking appreciating what you have