PlazaJen: Passion Knit

Could we all have a big shout-out for the happiness that is FRIDAY? Oh mah lord. I can't believe I've only worked 3.5 days - the work & stress has been the equivalent of a couple of weeks, and that EXCEEDS the recommended dosing! Everything has been in some state of uproar or drama or irritation or frustration, and that is work, life, the whole shebang. I'm very, very tired.

Until my father's death, I excelled at denial, and avoidance. I still do - but emotional things are a lot harder to shake free now. But I've learned about drowning in grief and the whole process of breaking the surface and finding your breath again and eventually staying afloat - and even swimming.

I had some news this week, and it's the reason for my watery metaphor - my beloved Auntie Karen had a false negative on a biopsy earlier this month, and she does, after all, have breast cancer. I suspected something had happened when we returned from vacation & she'd left a message. I called her back right away and when I heard the news, I just felt myself sinking. Not fighting it. Legs together, toes pointed, sinking like a stone. She continued, with positive information (it's Stage I), the treatment will be pretty aggressive, she has all the faith in the world with her doctor, he feels the prognosis is very good, so on and so forth. She told me not to panic or think the worst.

I've done a pretty good job of following her instructions this week, in which I've had numerous emotional bungee drops and confrontations and stress. Mostly because I didn't talk about it much. Didn't let it break the surface. I have a very obsessive mind, I've always described it as my "inner terrier", the dog that cannot and will not back out of the hole until it has dragged every goddamned rat out of the darkness. Some might call it a futile attempt to control everything, in a search for reassurance. Terrier sounds a little cuter.

My voice cracked when I told James, and later this week, at lunch with my girlfriends, when I described my aunt, trying to be wry and pretend it's ok, as "my only living relative who still speaks to me..." Yeah, it's a sucker punch of a twist on the truth, but I'm tired. My terrier is tired of hunting rats, of not coming in from the rain, of having to sink to the bottom before I can rise to the surface again, tired of paddling, tired just so tired.

Despite my words here, I'm still optimistic. I know my Auntie will pull through this, that all will be ok, that the stress at work will continue but it will, too, resolve itself, and that the general stress of life ebbs and flows. I just hit my limit today, and in the silence of the office, as people scramble to leave early, I felt the realities of my life rush in, no longer held at bay by business and calls and meetings. ....and yes, I'm still quite happy it's Friday. I have a great evening planned, and I'm looking forward to it. I'm going to see this post as just a little dip in the Sorrows Pool on a Friday afternoon.