Journal entry: 3/19/16

Well shit, here I am…two years out from surgery and still bitter. I’ve talked with my surgeon and a therapist about how long it will be before I “get over” the fact that I had this damn surgery…I’m told it could be tomorrow or it could be never. Great! It isn’t so much that I don’t forgive myself, it’s that I feel like I deserve this, ya know? I was a shitty, shitty, shitty person and I treated my poor body like a trash can, so how can I be mad at how things came to be? My mom and my therapist have both told me that every person who has any kind of illness could find some way to blame themselves for it, but that doesn’t mean they should. It makes sense and all, but I can’t pretend that a person battling cancer is deserving of that….unless it’s lung cancer, then let’s face it, you kind of played Russian Roulette….regardless, no one puts on the back of an Aleve bottle that taking that medicine will result in your stomach and intestines being cut from your body. Yes, it does say something about ulcers, but it doesn’t say how many Aleve tablets, so how can one know???? And no one tells you that drinking alcohol will eat your stomach, they say it fucks up your liver or something….and my liver function tests are perfect…so…And no one tells you that stress will result in your internal organs being tossed into a metal surgical bowl….they just say “Don’t stress as much, it’s not good for you.” Why do you need a medical degree for that?

There are so many different things I wish I could go back and change, but honestly, which one was THE moment that caused this? There’s absolutely no way to know, so I’d have to go back and relive every single moment and do it completely different….not live, that’s what I’ve realized. I’d have to give up some of the best times of my life to make sure that I don’t end up right back here; and I’d have to give up some of the worst times…but since I know there’s no time machine I’m just stuck sitting here everyday wondering where I went wrong in my life.

 

The best lie I tell myself daily is that aside from some scars, some scrapes, some bruises and some pain I’m alright….but it’s a good lie.

Cori out.

 

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