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I'm about to get rather emo and freakish about my upcoming birthday, so fair warning not to click on the cut unless you want to hear a bunch of whining
I hate this time of year. Hate it. I wish I could stop being bitter about the fact that my birthday is no longer just 'day of my birth' and shares space with 'anniversary of cancer diagnosis' That this whole stretch of time is increasing anxiety and horrible fucking memories. But it is, and it puts me in an incredibly bad mood. I think I will feel differently if I manage hit the magic five years and it becomes 'day of my birth' shared with 'fuck you, I survived'. Right now it is not that at all. And this year...the thing with triple negative is that the aggressive recurrence rates which make it such a dangerous form of breast cancer start to spike exponentially in the second year and peak in the third. This birthday means I am now entering the hot zone of my high risk status. Happy birthday to me.
Add that the move means I cannot spend my birthday on Zen's couch eating yummy food and watching distracting things...and I'm just. Not looking forward to this. At all. I dunno, I'm just whining and I have no idea what to do with this. And, like, if I was a better person I'd be pondering the gift of life with wonder and smelling the roses and being grateful for another year or something, instead of huddled in a corner being angry and terrified.
I hate this time of year. Hate it. I wish I could stop being bitter about the fact that my birthday is no longer just 'day of my birth' and shares space with 'anniversary of cancer diagnosis' That this whole stretch of time is increasing anxiety and horrible fucking memories. But it is, and it puts me in an incredibly bad mood. I think I will feel differently if I manage hit the magic five years and it becomes 'day of my birth' shared with 'fuck you, I survived'. Right now it is not that at all. And this year...the thing with triple negative is that the aggressive recurrence rates which make it such a dangerous form of breast cancer start to spike exponentially in the second year and peak in the third. This birthday means I am now entering the hot zone of my high risk status. Happy birthday to me.
Add that the move means I cannot spend my birthday on Zen's couch eating yummy food and watching distracting things...and I'm just. Not looking forward to this. At all. I dunno, I'm just whining and I have no idea what to do with this. And, like, if I was a better person I'd be pondering the gift of life with wonder and smelling the roses and being grateful for another year or something, instead of huddled in a corner being angry and terrified.
From:
no subject
In the meantime, can we distract you with pretties of some kind?
From:
no subject
Can you deliver Hugh Dillon to my door? I would cease complaining about my birthday immediately :D :D
From:
no subject
and one of Hugh just being his awesome BAMF self:
From:
no subject
I think if I loved him any more I might EXPLODE