The End of a Year – the End of a Decade
Well, 2019 has been a big year. I turned 35 and I am definitely not where I thought I would be or where I want to be. But so much is out of our hands and I just have to hope that things will get better.
Last year at this time, I was so happy. I had someone. Something that I thought was going to last, might even be it. THE IT. But no. Like all my other relationships, it has ended but apparently this time it’s them, not me. I’m perfect. I’m everything they want. But they think they will ruin "us" so better to end it now before it gets too serious. Although, in all honesty, I do view a relationship of 2 years in your 30s (and he’s older) as pretty serious. Apparently not. So, that's nice.
Whinge. Whinge. Whinge.
It seems to be the way with me. One vaguely happy blog post followed by at least one of gloom and misery.
One happy post followed by one gloomy post
So, this decade has been pretty full-on. I went back to uni and got another degree. Did another course and got a diploma. Did a half-marathon and 2 full marathons. Set up a charity. Set up a business. Got out of bed every day. And had 10 challenging years of cancer. That is still there. Not gone away yet. Keeping me company into 2020, which is so very nice of it. It’s very thoughtful, not leaving me. Maybe I should try and marry it...
I should probably also counter that with some nice things. My niece’s. God, I love them so much. I didn’t realise how much you could love this tiny person who comes into your life. Seeing them change and grow. It’s pretty magical. Especially as I don’t have children. Not by choice. Noooooo. And yes cancer, thank you for hindering that... very much appreciated...not.
In 2020, I will have lived with blood cancer for 13 years
Wow. Who sounds like a grumpy teenager today?! ME! On that note, in 2020, I will have been living with cancer (officially because no one knows how long it was building inside me before my diagnosis) for 13 years so I will have a teenager inside me. Sort of.
So what else can I say about this year and decade? Well, it’s happened. And ummmm, I don’t know really. Everyone is reflective on social media about it and planning good and positive things for next year and the next decade and I just want to put two fingers up to it all, tell it/them/the world to f**k off and hide under the duvet eating chocolate and watching rubbish TV.
Will 2020 be my year?
The glass half full part of me wants to be more YAY! New year, new things, new life, new possibilities. But right now, in the moment, with all the life stuff I have going on. I’m really struggling to find that feeling.
But maybe 2020 will be my year. There is the possibility of coming off treatment so I will just focus on that and hope that everything else falls into place.
How long did it take to be properly diagnosed?