It's a sad one...

I was really self-deprecating this weekend... And I knew I was doing it too. For some reason I wanted to point out all my faults, and I don't know if I was doing it for sympathy, or because I wanted compliments, or what. Maybe it's because I tell myself so many bad things that if I say them out loud so that others will disagree with me, then all the negative thoughts I think aren't actually that bad - when I think I look fat or ugly, according to other people I'm not, so maybe I'm not as bad as I think. I know, it's weird. At one point my sister told me to stop because I was doing it a lot; I did as I was told, but I was still thinking it, just now without the outside reassurance.

It's really hard. I'm pretty sure I've said this before but I think the whole self-esteem complex is one of the hardest things to deal with. We went out on Friday night and I almost felt as if I was invisible; like everyone was looking at the other girls I was with and never at me. I feel as if I'm not even considerable. Damaged goods. Genetic failure. It's like I shouldn't even be touched with a twenty foot pole. I know that that's all completely ridiculous, but that honestly is how I feel sometimes. And even if somebody did give me attention, how would I handle that after constantly being poked and prodded at the hospital? I'm practically a living science experiment - how would I handle someone putting their arm around my steroid-bloated waist? Or forget the temporary detriments of now - what about the scars I'll have for the rest of my life? My surgery incisions healed in about ten to fourteen days... will the cuts to my self-esteem be fixed that fast?

My reflection is not the same; my body has betrayed me. Whether it's the visible bruises on my abdomen or the invisible cancerous cells that are potentially still flowing in my blood, my body is not my own. Drugs and side effects run rampant, all beyond my control. I get the impression that people think of me in amazement, like it's so incredible that I'm handling all of this so well. I'm completely detached. That's how I'm handling this 'so well'. My spinal taps and biopsies? They're all done to my back. All I have to do is lie there and not think about it. I don't care what they do to me as long as I can't feel it. Give me enough drugs and I'm a happy camper. My diagnosis, my treatment, everything has been very straightforward; it's not like I ever had to think about it, it's not as if I had a choice. Everything is mandatory - I have to have my blood drawn every week, I have to take the pills, I have to do the shots. No choice, no thinking about it = detachment. If I don't think about what's happening, then in a way, it's not. But I'm not denying it - I know I have cancer - I'm just trying to not let it take over my life.