Forum Discussion
Zoffiel
6 years agoMember
Hi @JSN
I was first diagnosed in 2006 (at 43) and the shitting thing came back in 2016
I, too, have no fond memories of my childhood. When I was convinced I was going to die without ever having what I thought everyone else had enjoyed, that made me angry. Angrier. I have been the angriest woman I know for most of my life. Two bouts of cancer made me absolutely fucking furious.
I've managed to manipulate anger into grumpiness, which lessens the likelihood of me being locked up for assaulting someone who is walking too slowly in front of me or standing beside me sniffing. Or not doing their job properly. Or parking too close to me. Bumping into me at aqua aerobics. The list of things that could drive me to violence is pretty much endless. I joke about it, but it is neither funny nor fun. I spend too much time with a fake smile that is a poorly disguised snarl on my face and far too much time screaming and crying in the car
'Stress isn't good for you.' No shit, Sherlock. That I'm making myself sick because I'm angry, makes me angrier. That I can't bloody stop, even with the best professional help that my limited funds can afford, grinds my gears to the point I am almost immobile.
My body has betrayed me. I've had to resign myself to eking out a humble living working at a level I rose above 20 years ago. Because it's all I can manage. My brain has betrayed me. I've gotten old and fat and sexless far faster and earlier than I could ever have imagined possible.
OK, that's my rant over. You are not alone. As for what I do to let off the endless steam I generate, I have what I call red-neck rehab. I split wood and dig holes and drag stuff around the back yard. I try not to compare the slow and painful progress with what I used to be able to do. I swim as far as I can underwater without passing out and resist the urge to find out if I can breath water. I try really hard not to pick fights with strangers or bite my workmates--the deal is I can spend 30 minutes screaming at them while I'm driving home from work.
This stuff is really hard for some of us. Mxx
I was first diagnosed in 2006 (at 43) and the shitting thing came back in 2016
I, too, have no fond memories of my childhood. When I was convinced I was going to die without ever having what I thought everyone else had enjoyed, that made me angry. Angrier. I have been the angriest woman I know for most of my life. Two bouts of cancer made me absolutely fucking furious.
I've managed to manipulate anger into grumpiness, which lessens the likelihood of me being locked up for assaulting someone who is walking too slowly in front of me or standing beside me sniffing. Or not doing their job properly. Or parking too close to me. Bumping into me at aqua aerobics. The list of things that could drive me to violence is pretty much endless. I joke about it, but it is neither funny nor fun. I spend too much time with a fake smile that is a poorly disguised snarl on my face and far too much time screaming and crying in the car
'Stress isn't good for you.' No shit, Sherlock. That I'm making myself sick because I'm angry, makes me angrier. That I can't bloody stop, even with the best professional help that my limited funds can afford, grinds my gears to the point I am almost immobile.
My body has betrayed me. I've had to resign myself to eking out a humble living working at a level I rose above 20 years ago. Because it's all I can manage. My brain has betrayed me. I've gotten old and fat and sexless far faster and earlier than I could ever have imagined possible.
OK, that's my rant over. You are not alone. As for what I do to let off the endless steam I generate, I have what I call red-neck rehab. I split wood and dig holes and drag stuff around the back yard. I try not to compare the slow and painful progress with what I used to be able to do. I swim as far as I can underwater without passing out and resist the urge to find out if I can breath water. I try really hard not to pick fights with strangers or bite my workmates--the deal is I can spend 30 minutes screaming at them while I'm driving home from work.
This stuff is really hard for some of us. Mxx