This week has been terrible. I had an appointment with my therapist yesterday. She gave me my official diagnosis of “anxiety, depression, and adjustment disorder”. Newsflash…losing Jason effed me all up in my head. Then she asked me how my week was on a scale of 1-10. I told her it was definitely a “10 week” and then proceeded to bawl my eyes out for over 90 minutes while my mouth rambled on and on about all of the “things”. I don’t know what it is about her, but I sit down in that chair and my mouth opens up and the whole river of hurts comes out while she sits there…not really saying anything. Some things definitely need a “safe place” to come out…but I guess that’s the point of therapy.
So much time spent faking it…pushing things down…pretending I’m okay. A couple came in this week to play tennis. I hadn’t seen them in awhile, so I asked them how they had been. The one guy said that his Mom was just diagnosed with Stage 4 uterine cancer so he had been spending a lot of time with her. I said, “Cancer really sucks. I am so sorry. Spend all the time with her that you can” and then I shared with him that Jason had passed away almost 9 months ago from cancer….and he was flabberglasted…had no clue. He said, “but you are always so happy and upbeat when we see you”. Yup. Faking it. All. The. Time. Not like I can wear my true emotions on my sleeve when I’m at work.
I did book a vacation to Portland for the kids and I this summer. We are going to go visit my brother and his family. They moved out there right after Jason passed away. I’m hoping that some fresh scenery and distractions will do us all some good. As much as it hurts we have to keep on making new memories…just the 4 of us.
Today the boys and I played mixed doubles in a pickleball tournament. Seth and I were partners and Levi and his girlfriend were partners. Seth and I had fun together, but failed to win a game. Levi and Svea got third place! It’s not tennis…but still fun!
Two years ago today was the day we first heard the word “glioblastoma”…and now everything is different.
Love, Tennis, and Cancer 