35 and Not What I Expected
It’s been a funny few weeks in terms of me and how I’ve been feeling with my internal chatter. My blood counts are all fine and my energy levels actually seem ok, which is really surprising me considering everything that’s been going on. Maybe it’s just adrenaline keeping me going and soon, I’m going to have a huge crash and spend most of it in bed.
I’m in limbo land with where I live, which really doesn’t help. I’m moving soon, not because I want to, but because I have to. The flat I rent is on the market and there are building renovations that need to be done. They haven’t happened, so it’s time to go. Even though it’s sort of my choice, I’m REALLY resenting it. And it’s really got in the way in my head. I’ve lost focus and just don’t really care at the moment.
Life looks different than I expected
I also turned 35 recently, and whilst I’m not bothered about being 35, I am incredibly bothered about where I am in my life, considering I’m 35. I don’t own where I live. I don’t have children. I don’t have a boyfriend/husband. And actually, that all came to a head recently.
I had a comment on my blog today. I last posted nearly a year ago and the blog post was so happy. I was in such a different place. And that makes me so sad.
I should be focusing on how good my bloods are and that the drug is working and isn’t completely annihilating my energy levels and my consultant is really happy.
But.
That person. That person that I thought I had found. That I thought might be the one. The one who doesn’t care that I don’t drink. That I have cancer. That I need 10 hours of sleep a night to function the next day. That understands that towards the end of the day I can’t walk as quickly. That I need to sit on public transport. That knows how important babies are to me, understands the massive thing it would be for me to come off treatment to have one, and understands how medical it would be. That person.
Not the outcome I was hoping for
Well, that person has decided that it’s a no. And the thing that I find so hard is that it’s not me that’s the no. It’s not all of the above. It’s not because they don’t want to be with me. It’s because they are convinced that our age gap is an issue and that they aren’t nice to live with and because of their issues.
Well, for any of you who have read any of my blog posts, you will know that I have LOADS of issues. And now I have this to add to the list.
What gets to me so much, and what’s making it so hard to let go of, is that we work. Regardless of everything. So, I haven’t ripped off the plaster (band-aid, to you American lot) and cut communication, which is probably making it worse for me. But you know me, I always hope. And I hope with time that maybe there is a different ending. Maybe it’s like my hope of coming off treatment. Possibly futile, but keeps me going for the time being.
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