Reposted January 14, 2013 re Writing Challenge: Starting Over.
I’m not a big New Year’s girl. Never really have been.
Yesterday I had a half day of work (they shut down extra early and sent us all home) and I came home to rest (see “What Looked Like ‘Better’ Turned Out to be PMS and a Full Moon“), which ended up being a late nap (about 4pm-6pm). I knew that would screw with my night’s sleep, but as quickly as I fell asleep after lying down, I apparently needed it. And I was off work today, so who cared if I was up half the night.
And I was. And then some.
After waking up and having separate dinner together with Hubby (we both kind of fended for ourselves according to personal taste at the moment but prepared and ate together – you can do that when there are no kids to feed), we both settled in to rest – me still from the radiation fatigue and him from some crazy long days at work last week and a relatively active weekend.
We were having nice quiet time separately in the house together and along about 11ish I checked on him – sound asleep in his room.
I went back to bed and finished the book I was reading.
The time was about 11:40pm.
I picked up a new book (which I have decided is my first book of 2013 . . . because I can) and started to read it.
It grabbed me right away, so I forgot about the time.
Then I heard noise from outside. It only took a nanosecond to realize what the noise signified.
I looked up from my book.
There I was, alone in bed, Hubby safely and peacefully sleeping in his room, a book in my hand, still hearing the year turn.
I took a moment to just be.
In a way, though it was near 15 hours ago, I feel like I’m still in that moment.
I could hear my neighbors fresh starts being shouted to the Universe, and thankfully I was not required to participate.
I felt something in that moment that is lurking still somewhere in my consciousness.
I don’t know what to call it.
I do not have the sense of transition that often comes with this night/day. I do not have the relief of leaving the year in the past or the societally-imposed hope for a better year upcoming – behind me are two surgeries and destruction (yes, it’s actually what the real goal of radiation treatment is, even if saying it that way makes some people uncomfortable) of my cells – ahead of me are more surgeries and chemical castration in the form of anti-hormonal medications leading to artificial, forced menopause.
I’m very glad that when I go to sleep tonight, this year’s official “Holiday Season” will be over. A few more days of being wished “Happy New Year” and facing the expectation that I display hope and joy in response to same, and then maybe I can breathe easier.
Being where I am in my cancer treatment, I have no realistic expectation that most of 2013 is going to be much better, easier or more fun than most of 2012 – that’s my reality.
I believe lots of people Do have that expected hopefulness and transition happening for them, and if you are one of them, I am truly glad for you – I just ask that you please not expect me to feel and display the same this year.
And before you try to buck me up, I’m okay with where I am just now. I’m trying to just sit with it until it shifts. And it will, in it’s own time.
Check with me a year from now, I may feel differently.
I went back to reading my book for a few more hours; I couldn’t put it down.
I finally took a 2nd Benadryl, which forced my eyes to close.
It was 4:00 am.