It’s day three. I’m up feeling wonderful. I’m beginning to think they have pumped me full of Chrystal Meth rather than chemotherapy. I am bouncing around the place full of health, vitality and energy. Too. Good. To. Be. True.
In fine spirits I find myself in my eldest daughter’s bedroom at 07:30, cleaning products at my disposable, bin bags hanging out my arse pocket, on a mission. She is not in, so I set to pulling out each drawer, cupboard and space I could find apart. Not long before I was knee deep in her mess. This is where I am at my best – cleaning, tidying and organizing.
The way she lives actually effects my mental health. I have a nickname ‘tidy Heidi’, and this part of my DNA has most definately not been passed on. I love cleaning – my cupboards are organised – t-shirts hung together, baked bean tins stacked together, all pastas sit side by side, same topic of books cuddled up together on the shelves. You get where I am coming from right?!!
I have always been this way. When I was very young I was exactly the same. Sindy clothes in colour order, rubbers (I collected them – smelly ones of course it was the 80’s!) in food category order. My favourite by far was my chocolate swiss roll. I can usually pull this smell into my senses but sadly chemo metal breath is well and truly in situ. Copies of ‘Look In’ and ‘Smash Hits’ in date order. C90 tapes in alphabetical order. I used to collect Garfields – I had hundreds. Thirteen had pride of place on my bed. They too each had their own place. I could put them in order with my eyes closed.
My orderly environment exuded calm discipline and integrity. I’ve come to realise it was hiding a very scared, chaotic and anxious young person. It gifted me some control in a very anxious driven life, allowing me to construct some emotional stability under extreme stress.
Let me tell you about the secondary gains of anxiety….
This term is used by psychologists to explain the benefits denied from personality pathology referring to enduring patterns of cognition, emotion and behavior that negatively affects a persons adaptation. You may be wondering what the benefits of anxiety are, especially if you suffer from it or know people who do.
But it does have it benefits. often if you make space for this unpleasant sensation and allow it to live rent free – you’re probably getting something from it. Unhealthy, yes, but you are getting something – it’s serving a purpose for you somewhere. People do unhealthy things as a way of coping with reality. My ordering and structure creating soothed me and helped me make the best of a situation I was in at each particular period of my life.
Anxiety causes suffering. Most of my clients I see have an element of this disorder in their presentation. I’m sure I will revisit this subject often in my journal. It’s cruel, irrational and often rises from a series of unconscious factors that manifest themselves as erratic behaviour that causes emotional pain. It’s shit.
Although I still bring my ordering, structuring and routines to my adult life today it’s not about controlling or dealing with anxiety as much anymore. This part of me has simply evolved over time. I just get pleasure from seeing my home neat and tidy. (OK – a bit of it is still about having control – you got me!).
My diagnosis has challenged this now. I’m learning to relax a little more. Especially when my kids put the Tesco delivery away. I have to wait until I have the energy to put it all back in the cupboards ‘Heidi Styleeeeeeeeee’.
By 12 noon I stood back and observed my mornings hard labour of love. It looks fab, smells fab and we are both delighted with the results.
Sadly by 13:30 I was reminded that it was chemotherapy administered exactly 47 hours ago. I am now on my ass. Feeling bloody terrible. Anti-sickness popped and my only friend now is water. I can feel my throat welcome back metallic mouth. The powerful drugs cause changes to cells on your gums, tongue and the insides of your cheeks. Hence my mouth sores – but I do have mouth wash now so relief may follow. You also develop bad breath from nausea. I am absolutely convinced the world can smell me. It is hideous.
I’m proper pissed off. I’ve gone from strength to weakness in a matter of minutes. I felt it limp from one feeling to the next. You can literally feel your insides change quite quickly as the dark veil of chemo drops over you. The disappointment I feel in myself and my capabilities turn to anger. I launch it at my husband when he finishes work. Screaming at him for telling our children off. I didn’t hear the full conversation but my rant was out and I couldn’t catch it. He had to leave the room to calm down.
If there is something I struggle to say, it’s ‘sorry’. I need to work on this. I’m slightly better than I was but the word sticks in my throat. I think it is because it makes me feel vulnerable, in danger of losing any power I may have and maybe status? This word does to me what cancer has done to me. It carries with it an admittance of inadequacy and incompetency. Traits I try desperately to avoid.
But I know tonight I am going to have to gargle with the word and gently let it out into my husbands direction. He accepts it. I do feel shit but the chemo is kicking me and I don’t have the energy to prolong my apology.
The weather here today has been grey, damp and bleak. A good trio of words to describe how my day has ended. But then I see the familiar face of my dear friend as she walks up my drive with flowers and a book. Her visit did poke at my optimism. I do know this will pass. I am building a relationship with my chemo cycle and I have felt this way before and it did leave me. I must remember I had more good days than bad in my last three weeks. I must just let this ride and stay with these unpleasant feelings. I’m going to re-read my messages and texts from my posse! This has a remarkable effect on my spirit which right now is floundering.
My friend is one rare one that does not cast a judgement and right now she is sat looking at me sitting on a stool, green around the gills, with heavy eyes trying to muster an ‘I’m fine honestly’ smile. I just wish she’d have seen me a few hours ago – Chrystal Meth mode instead!