I'd like to write about the things I've been feeling lately but there's a distance between them and myself just now.
For the past little while I've been angry, a lot. Quick to temper over the littlest things. It all feels out of my range of control. I can keep the torrent of tears under lock and key most of the time but the anger, it seems to be taking the place of the unshed tears. Why don't I just let the tears fall as they may? Because I'm afraid if they start they'll never stop. I still have to be able to function, I still have to be "on". I have to have enough of the emotional walls up so that one cross word won't make me cry. I'm hyper emotional and have been since I began to allow myself to feel. I've gone from one extreme to another and it's worse when I'm under a lot of stress.
Friday on the way to work I was thinking about some what if's and ways to plan for them. I was planning my funeral for Master, thinking of the things that I'd like to have that he'd be at a loss to decide if it came to that. Morbid I know, but these are things we don't talk about and they're things I think of when I'm facing surgery. *shrug* These thoughts brought on some tears and I had to work hard to get them under control. I couldn't go into work with red, puffy eyes from crying. Got to work, walked into the building and on the way to the restroom the tears started again. I was panicked. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to control the tears, worried that a bad call would set them off and they'd never stop. By some heroic effort I managed to get them under control and no one around me was the wiser. It's important to me to appear "normal" emotionally, even when I'm not. I don't know why that is, it just... is.
Saturday saw me pop a gasket over another little something, a little nothing. Master had told me that he'd take me somewhere Saturday night. I was bored, had been bored, and was looking forward to going out. Truth be told, I've run out of things to focus on, things to keep me busy and keep me from worrying about the surgery. The way I worry about it you'd think it was major surgery. Anyway, Master was tired and worn out from the previous night's revelry that he'd had and wasn't up to, nor feeling sociable enough for, going out.
Sooooo, being true to form I got angry. Angry out of proportion to the situation. And that's when it happened. I started crying and I couldn't stop. He wanted to comfort me, I didn't want it. I knew that if I allowed him to comfort me I'd keep on crying and wouldn't be able to shore up the dams. Somehow though, I managed to regain my composure while still accepting a little of the comfort he offered. Somehow we managed to salvage the day and not let my meltdown ruin the day. I actually felt better afterwards.
Still, I'd like to write about the things I've been feeling lately but I'm just not *feeling* them at the moment. I know that might not make sense and I'm not sure how to explain it. I've got a buffer between myself and my emotions, the ones that cause the tears anyway.
I can name them though, scared, frustrated, stressed, panicked, cornered, confused, impatient.
I hate the idea that there's enough wrong that I have to have surgery to fix it but I want to get it done and over with now, not tomorrow, not next week. I'm not very good at waiting, patiently or otherwise. There's a problem fix it and be done with it. I don't like not knowing exactly what is wrong. The last time I saw the doc he said I had a "solid mass" in my right ovary. There are SO many things that could be. He speculated about a couple of fairly benign issues and, as Master and I discussed last night, he can't be that concerned about it as he didn't order immediate blood work or push up the date of the surgery. He wanted to wait and see. Only, I hate waiting and seeing.
I don't want to be incapacitated after surgery, I don't want to have to wait and recover while my body heals, I don't want to deal with more hormone imbalances, I don't want to spend the next several months waiting and seeing what the final result will be. I want it all done now! I don't want yet another thing that will kill my libido. The poor thing is gasping its last breath as it is.
It's all the unknowns that are bothering me, all this enforced waiting and seeing. I'm just plain old scared. Scared that I'll die on the table (with no good reason), scared that the procedure won't work, scared that it will make things worse, scared that I'll end up having to have more invasive surgery six months down the road, just plain scared. It's so much easier to be mad than to be scared, than to admit that I'm afraid. I'd love to not think about any of this stuff until it happens. I'd love to be able to believe, wholeheartedly, that everything will be alright and that things will go well. But I just can't. I plan for the what ifs. I always have. When I leave the house I bring all the medications I think I might need, I bring all the personal items I think I might need, I have my cell phone, my keys, I'm dressed in layers just in case I might get too warm, and I have cleansing wipes in my purse just in case I spill something on my clothes.
But how do you plan for the what ifs of something you have absolutely no control over? The short answer is, you don't. So what do I do? I plan the things I can exercise some control over, I've worked far ahead in my classes so that I can afford to take a little time to recuperate and not stress about school, I've been planning my post-procedure work wardrobe complete with shoes that I can just slip on so I don't have to bend over, I've been planning a "who to call" list for Master so he can inform certain people about how the surgery went, I've planned to leave him detailed instructions for notifying my instructors and uploading certain homework in the event that I'm hospitalized, and yes, planning my funeral too. But no, I'm not planning on dying, I've got too much to live for and too much yet to do.
I know I'm certifiable. But it makes me feel better to have things to plan, to have things that I can control so I don't focus on the things I can't. Master's probably shaking his head after reading this. He accepts that I'm nuts, thank goodness, and loves me anyway. But sometimes, sometimes just shakes his head at me and smiles that little smile, the one that says "Some days your craziness surprises even me."
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