The rollercoaster

I’m on a rollercoaster when it comes to J’s cancer treatments.

If he’s doing badly—like he was for a couple of weeks recently—my thoughts get darker. I start thinking more about how I’m going to be alone. I don’t like it at all.

Now, he’s on more of an upswing again and I’m able to relax a little more. I don’t feel like his death is as imminent anymore. But all this reminds me that my mood and stability are essentially ruled by factors far beyond my control.

I have an appointment with my therapist on Friday and I’m sure I’ll bring this up. Really, there doesn’t seem to be much of a way to live like everything is normal during the downward swings of the rollercoaster.

But yet I still expect normalcy of myself anyway and I don’t know how realistic that is. This is not something that ever gets discussed in the support groups for spouses of people with stage IV cancer.

I want to live as normal of a life as possible. But there is essentially nothing normal about this life.

I need to try my hardest to stay in the present, which is never easy for me but it’s even harder now.

I think that by the end of this—whenever that will be—I’m going to be so wise that I’ll be untouchable. But I’ll also probably have a hell of a lot of trauma, too.