[orthodoc]

I'm so pissed at my ex, and so sad about my 'friend' who never was, and looking at a future of no career and no book (I was supposed to write a great book, haha, I wrote a book with my kids' encouragement and shopped it around and it went nowhere, no surprise) and no mark on the world, and I wonder why I'm even trying to get better.

There is no cure for breast cancer. There's no time at which risk drops to that of the general population. Women with carcinoma in situ, less than my stage, turn up with mets in two years. With my stage - let's just say that if I had the same chance of winning the lottery as of turning up with mets in five years, I'd drop every dollar I have into this week's MegaLotto. My family is ridiculously long-lived but I'll be the exception. I won't have accomplished anything I wanted to accomplish, I'll just die sooner than I expected and be a fool for giving up so much for other people for so long.

And yes, I'm drunk, and going to get drunker before the night (or morning's) out, and then go for chemo tomorrow. If I puke my guts out who cares? If my liver fails, who cares, it's just disaster a little sooner than would happen anyway. I have a billion academic things to get turned in and I won't get it all done, and I'm alone for chemo tomorrow thank god, I don't have to put on a brave face for anyone, and I wish I'd just die tonight.

I will get through this just to find I can't get health insurance, and I'll know I made the definitive errors and bad decisions years ago and I'll never make my mark as an academic or researcher, never be a writer. Never be anything ... just need another drink and some lorazepam. Maybe the decadron will keep me up all night regardless.

I really invested in that 'friend', stupid as it sounds. He woke me up, made me think, made me realize I was still desirable, made me feel valued and unique. And it was all lies, just his player's game. He confided personal things and hurts that I wouldn't expect a man to confide unless he had some investment, he shared things I didn't think a player would, but in the end that's all it was. Just a well-rehearsed line, doled out bit by bit. And here I sit, so stupid and naive and worthless, and honestly I know I won't ever be able to sort through another man's bullshit and figure out if anyone's being honest. It's not that I can't be alone; but I hate having been lied to, having believed it.

So here's to living alone, as long as it lasts.
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