Sunday, 11 September 2011

So, why am I crying?


I am an emotional wreck at the moment. I keep crying over the most ridiculous things. As I have told people, someone only has to look at me sideways and the bottom lip goes. Returning to work this week has been a challenge. Everyone is being wonderful, but some parts have been quite overwhelming. So much to remember and so much, potentially to do! I am my own worst enemy in that if something metaphorically has my name on it, I like it to be excellent!


I know I was not at my best for the half year I taught in the last academic year. As I discovered, my cancer was already taking its toll on my body. I was utterly exhausted all the time and was finding it hard to manage stuff at home, giving all my energy to work.
My tearfulness shows no rhyme or reason. However, having talked things over with a few people, I can now see why I might be so emotionally fragile. Ever since I had my surgery, and started my treatment, I have just kept going, I have not allowed myself many tears. This was largely because I was afraid if I really got going I would not be able to stop! I have made myself be strong, and of course, every three weeks I was getting lots of support in the chemo unit. Now, no more chemo unit and to be quite honest, I've been strong for long enough. I have got to deal with my emotions. I've got to deal with something like a bereavement. I've lost a chunk of my life and in a way I have lost my innocence. I knew nothing of what a human body can endure before all this except through childbirth, and now I've been changed forever.
While essentially I am the same Ali, my outlook on life has shifted. Things that used to bother me no longer do. Those things that irritated me often don't matter at all. However, some things that I took in my stride do now reduce me to tears. I have many 'for heavens sake' moments at MYSELF. I'd give anything not to lose words while having conversations. I'm hoping this improves over time. I have no doubt that some of my tears are due to frustration. Frustration that I'm not yet strong enough to complete tasks like I used to be able to, frustration that my stamina has not yet returned.

                                                            
The sensible part of me knows I am being totally unreasonable. The child in me says why not be unreasonable after all you have been through! The adult in me says 'Grow up!'

I do know that in time, I'll stop crying, my frustrations will ease, and I'll stop feeling so cross with myself. Until then, please stand by with the tissues...