Friday, February 20, 2009

The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the devil's own satanic herd.

I wonder if I’m doing okay? Sometimes I’m not sure. Sometimes I’m not sure I’m that in touch with myself. Maybe I could send myself an email. My thoughts have been soggy. When we passed the anniversary marker for Firecracker’s surgery, and when I remember it, my stomach clenches its fist and looks balefully at me. What were you thinking? To put your child through that? And for what? Nothing!

I feel death wafting around me. Perhaps I will die this year. I don’t want to die. I’m really opposed to it. My nephew, my friend. My friend. Is it easier to meet death deliberately instead of waiting for it to snare you? Why did she feel that dying was better than living? I miss her. And what about me? I think of estrogen. Perhaps I should have gone on tomoxifin. Maybe estrogen is the enemy. I’m overweight, so I’m even producing more of it. I’m practically swimming in it. Perhaps it’s wreaking havoc even as I sit here so indecisive. Perhaps I’ll die from indecisiveness. And then there’s Dear Husband. Whenever he has a flair up I wish I could peek into his bladder and make sure all the cells are behaving, no proliferation. Everyone’s health panics me. What is going on that I cannot see? Death and his demons, where are the creeping?

It’s amazing what plastic surgeons can do with reconstruction, it really is. But my new breast will always be a…a… construction. It is better than cancer, but it is still this alien sculpture perching on my chest. How I wish they could have done the TRAM. I’m still sad about that. I’ve never intended to have another child, but the knowledge that I could never nurse one if I did makes me cry. Isn’t that weird?

I’ve come to the conclusion that I am not doing what I was intended to do. The problem is that I have no idea what I was intended to do. You know, that idea that God has a plan with a place for everything and everything in its place. Do I even believe that? What do I believe? How can I believe? When I think of death, it seems the most preposterous suggestion that we would go somewhere after. It pretty much looks like a blank wall: bye bye. But there are these stories, this scripture that says otherwise. I find it hard to swallow.

I find it hard to chew on most things Christian these days. The claims, the glib prayers, the churchy stuff, the inspirational books, the enthusiasm, the dull dull tumbling of words. The bright shininess and maudlin spectacle of it all. The music. Oh god the awful sameness and bouncy bouncy of it. Sometimes it seems that if I jumped in the river it would come up to my ankles, so shallow the water is full of silt.

And then there are these longings that I don’t believe in: to home school my children, or at least to be a SAHM there when school is over, when the bus drops them off. The mom who can visit the class with the cupcakes and a story to read, who may actually someday meet the other mothers whose children my daughters spend more time with than with me. It seems so out of balance, but who am I kidding? My salary is essential and always will be, even after we pay off the cars and the student loan. Besides, I can’t organize my own time. I’m useless at it. How can I organize anyone else’s?

There, I’ve written it out of me for now. Tomorrow Firecracker is having a birthday party. I’m afraid no one will come. That happened one year, or nearly. Only one child showed up. I’ve tried calling, and the moms either don’t speak English or act as if they are reluctant to admit that the live in this universe, the universe with the invitation, my child, their child, and their common classroom.

More on my adventures in dyspepsia later. The title of this post, btw, is from Black Adder, and it gave me the day's first laugh. If you aren't familiar with Black Adder, you need to correct that deficiency right away before it becomes a way of life.


  1. Honey,

    I am blessed to be your husband and I love you in all way. Remember, G-d loves us and want our love NOT in what we do but WHO HE IS - Almight, Everlasting, Wondeful King. "For we have been saved by GRACE and not in what Karen does or doesn't do . . ."

  2. I am so sorry it all fels so bleak right now...Blackadder is a great help in many ways :) - but I'll pray too that God will make his love for you & yours very real indeed.
    Not weird at all re lost potential to nurse babes...and what about trying the Quakers for some spirituality that doesnt deal in froth etc
    Hugs xxx

  3. I so enjoyed your comment on my blog. Upon reading your entry I am entertained by how much we have in common. When I reached the part about tomorrow being a birthday party I IMMEDIATELY recognized why you are feeling twisted -- my children's birthday parties stress me more than anything at all. The intense pressure to make it all perfect -- it's just impossible! And I, too, am horrified by the prospect that I am dependent on other people to show up. I swear there have been times I would have happily given out cash, just to know people would show:)

  4. Kathryn: Thank you. There aren't very many Quaker meetings near me. Well, there's one but they have the word "conservative" emblazoned on their website and mention something about "traditional attire," which makes me a little skittish. The main group of Quakers is in the heart of the city. If you have any Quaker writings to recommend, do pass that along.

    Pamajama: I've felt inadequate ever since my girls' preschool days, when we received invitations handcrafted to look like little purses, with chenille stem handles and hand lettering. Should I confess that I picked up Firecracker's invitations from Kroger? Next year I'll be more creative and scribble invitations on pieces torn from the backs of cereal boxes.

  5. I found that God always seemed far far away when I needed Her near. It was when I didn't feel the immense need that I understood that She was there all along.

    Peace and Love,