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This has been an extraordinarily difficult year for me. So far I can never even believe I made it through after all, it was so damn hard and horrible for so long.

There was the math of course, which I blamed all of my cantankerousness on, but actually it is to laugh, math is hard like a diamond but I am sharp like a laser.

No, the hardest damn thing in the world is to go about your life thinking that just possibly you’ve spent all your life up to this point looking for that one true thing that makes you live, and just as you’ve barely got your claws into it the universe is considering ripping it away. Forever.

That sounds dramatic as all hell, but it is literally how I felt for months of this year and last, especially when we didn’t know that everything was going to be fine and it was all going to run according to best case scenario. When there was a chance that the cancer would spread throughout Jason’s entire endocrine system and ruin everything, I felt like there was a hole under me that I was just constantly dropping through into everlasting nothing. For months of days there when it was a real possibility that they were going to have to crack his whole chest open, thereby making his surgery much more dangerous, I just floundered. I alternated between the numb curiosity of shock, imagining his ribs opening up like a Model T hood, and crushing despair, realizing the fact of the bone and tissue and muscle and blood that the scenario would actually entail.

I hard a hard time. I had a hard time with social niceties. I had a hard time being a kind and/or good person ever at all in any way to anyone. I was surly as shit to my coworkers for like two months straight. And I felt like chewing pieces out of dinner plates all day every day.

What I am trying to say here, for myself and anyone else who has to deal with me, is that I have experienced fear and rage this year like never before in my life, not even everything that has gone before it added all up together. I feel like my personality has been altered forever by that terrible incredibly long time when there was just nothing better for me to tell myself than ‘just keep going’ and ‘do the best you can while you can.’ I am nothing but incredulously grateful for how beautifully everything turned out in real life, but I am still working on believing in my enormous good luck. Despite all my rage it turns out that I am still going to get to be happy. It blows my mind, how happy I still get to be.

I needed to write all of this out, because while I was going through it words were just old dead bugs in dusty corners, not going to happen I mean, and not spilling at least the history of all those feelings was making me feel like a corked bottle of old poison. I am still afraid to let go of my fear and anger because what if the intensity of my black and red emotion was all that was keeping the universe from screwing me over, but I know that this is honestly just the same as a dog thinking that the only reason the mailman never breaks in and murders the family with a machete because it barks at him every day. It is time to let go of that frightful scare and get on with the glorious goodness of life.

My god, is it good.

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July

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