Half a person…

You can tell someone is not in a good place when you cast a sideways glance at their On-The-Go iPod playlist. A selection of slow and depressing songs by The Smiths effectively condemns the listener to a dark, thought seeking, soul searching recess of their mind in search for answers, crying out for focus. Stress really is a mind fuck; turning previous able capacity to multi-task into the useless, rendering the incumbant gibberous, gittery and unable to perform basic tasks. Sometimes trying to speak is like a 5 year old trying to understand quarks and string theory.

Spare a thought for people in dark places. Even the strong willed, strong minded and most confident of people (on the outside) crumble under pressure once in a while.

Like I have said to many of late, 2011 was one the best years for me and mine. I could not actually think of anything else I (or the family) would have, should have or could have achieved last year. And 2012 personally started well with great appraisal, performance related bonus and promotion. And then the grey clouds gathered and descended one Friday morning and changed things.

The word cancer. Cancer. CANCER. The more you hear the word, the louder it becomes. The more you hear the word, the scarier it becomes. Even when the consultant says that as cancers go, it’s one of the better ones, it still does not soften the blow. Instantly, thoughts turn to answers and inevitably blame. In my wife’s case, she has every right to turn to blame. Mis-diagnosis of cancer for over a year has led to the spread of it, the growth of it, the hatred it and of the system that gestated and gave birth to it. Now is not the time for retribution, although that time will come. Now is not the time to turn to blame. Now is this time to focus on what really is important. Her…

She is my world. Those first words, those first conversations post diagnosis seemed so surreal. For those brief moments, my world ended; the thought of losing her made her life flash in front of my eyes. The initial seconds of dread, numbness and foreboding will stay with me, forever. But after those first seconds which seemed to last minutes, hours even, had passed, reality kicked in and it was time to be strong. For her. For the family.

I wane. But I wane in my time, my private time, or at least try to. She needs support. She may continue on business as usual, but I know it consumes her every thought. It would mine.

So here I sit, blogging instead of catching up on the work I’m falling behind on. But this is my time. It is 21:59 and it is my time, my private time until I return home. Not catching up leaves me open to the machine and pressure tomorrow. But right now, for her now, it is a far off place. Must. Focus. On. Her.

Fuck the machine.

This blogger is not sending out a cry for help. This is a blogger. An honest blogger. A blogger painting a picture of reality. A blogger not conforming to the happy day scenario of ever-positive Facebook and Twitter status updates. Just a blogger. Using the media of the day to express sentiment.

So I may be half a person just now, but half a person inside. For her…