When I was a little kid I would make wishes, I never told a soul and yet they always came true. I was stupidly lucky in that regard.
I’m frustrated that I can’t find out if it’s cancer or not until I have the surgery. Apparently they won’t CT guided needle biopsy the mass because if it’s malignant then it will spread the cancer cells everywhere so they just remove the whole lot as carefully as possible.
I’m cool with them spreading cells, because I’m okay with it being cancer. I’m not cool with operating on it.
We promised a part of us a looong time ago we would never have surgery and being asked to break that promise is akin to being asked to commit murder.
My well meaning doc has gone to far too much effort and hooked up someone she believes to be an extremely skilled surgeon, my beautiful shrink is not only going to take the day off and come with me into surgery and hold my hand in case of past trauma causing a massive freak out / switch to a small child part or something worse, but she coincidentally went to med school with the anaesthetist who is apparently also wonderful and kind.
But the problem is I don’t want any of this help, for starters I don’t deserve it and besides if it I knew it was cancer then I would opt out of surgery altogether and just let nature take its course. I sure as Hell don’t want surgery then chemo and all that goes with it. I wish they’d spend their time and efforts helping someone who wants to be helped.
I think the biggest problem here is that I’ve been suicidal since I was 8 years old, I’ve been WANTING to get something terminal like cancer for so long because it’s a good excuse to die without the associated guilt of technically being at fault and yet it finally might happen and it’s not even possible to know without invasive surgery that removes the “problem” anyway.
They say be careful what you wish for, I say be careful how you phrase that wish.
How the fuck am I supposed to “fight” cancer when I really don’t want to live in the first place? I think about suicide every single day, multiple times a day. I tried to kill myself five years ago, I fucked it up and I’m still here living with the guilt and the shame and not once have I had that great epiphany moment that people talk about where you are grateful you survived.
I mean fuck, I don’t even live my own life anymore, I leave it up to the dissociated parts of “Us” who better tolerate the world. I feel like I’m being tricked into this bullshit when I was just handed the ultimate “get out of life free” card and everyone has such bloody good intentions that I feel guilty as Hell for not wanting their kindness and just want to scream at them to stop being “helpful” and fuck off, sure as shit don’t feel sorry for me because I wanted this.
I don’t want to be alive. I don’t want anyone to fix me. Just leave me alone.
Can I ask the surgeon to ‘throw’ the operation like a footy player might throw a game? Slip him a few bucks to “accidentally” slice an artery?
I’m so done.