The sun isn’t shining and this summer there has been a ton of rain here in Indiana.  I do believe that SAD or seasonal affective disorder can happen not only in the winter.  But who the fuck gets it in the summer??  Well, a cancer mom does that’s who.  I believe that the lack or sunshine or even the shear fact that I cannot enjoy sunshine when it is out is the same feeling.  Adler is too tired or worn out to do much outside and when he does it’s only for about 20-30 minutes.  A 5 year old almost 6 year old boy should be running all over the yard.  In and out of sprinklers and kicking balls and stuff.  Running up a slide and coming back down it, not with mom standing at the bottom cause his legs are too weak from chemo, strength issues and PAIN that he can’t get himself up at the end.  He can’t even swing himself because he can’t pump his legs.  So yea, my depressed ass will stand there in the cloud ridden back yard and push him as long as he can stand sitting in the swing.  And we bring out the ipod just in case he gets the itch to dance since that is one thing that he can do and he so enjoys.  Today is kinda one of those days.  It’s not very warm out for summer time and it’s cloudy and maybe a chance of rain, I am not sure as I haven’t watched the weather because I really don’t give a fuck about it.  It’s not like I am planning a pic nic or anything.  So while he napped, I decided to embrace my emotional state of who the hell knows and watched a dramatic movie.  Then put on some Nina Simone and felt those words as they poured out of the portable speaker we bought to take to chemo with us that has served many purposes now.

My therapist, God bless her, tells me that it is a blessing and a curse that I can tap into all my emotions so well.  That I am a rare human that actually feels ALL my feelings.  And damn if that isn’t the truth.  And I quote her when I say she said “it’s amazing you aren’t more fucked up than you are”. So there it is.  I am not OK and you know what I am fine with that.  I have been stricken with a dreadful imagination that can be used for a fun filled fantasy of some far off cabin in the woods tucked into some English hillside, the roof covered in moss and fireplace to warm my chilled skin as I sit in front of it on some velvet covered chase enjoying endless erotic novels with a butler that closely resembles Tom Hiddleston and could read to me while  he cooks me culinary artistic meals and offers to rub my shoulders in the claw foot bath tub that he’s so willingly filled for me to soak in after said dinner.  OR……I am wrecked to tears with fear of my son’s mortality since he is literally living with a killer inside him.  It’s like he just came into our lives and follows Adler around with a loaded gun to his head and we try with all of our might to make him leave and by God or who ever or how ever one day I hope that mother fucker is gone for good!  Will he make it to school and do okay outside of my care?  Will he continue to have a semi normal life?  Will he have all the same fun experiences that other kids with out cancer and chronic pain will have?  Will he be able to have a normal love life some day?  Yes, his father and I have both worried about that.  Will chemo leave lasting effects that he may never mend?  SEE…….the imagination can be so wonderful and so deafening all at the same time.

So when my therapist asks how do you feel lately and when I say that I am OK, really I am saying I am OK with not being OK.  It’s a fine line and I walk it as carefully as possible as to not fully lose my shit since I am the captain of this ship and so I smile and say come on matey…..lets keep going.  No matter if the sun shines or the rain falls, it’s all the same inside our home.  It has been a PAIN prison turned to a manageable, day dreamable, music induced, love felt, crimson and clover lava light in every room and incense burning with soaps of every scent to calm and comfort the senses kinda home.

Rainbows and sunshine don’t live with in me every day so I am much like our weather here these days.  I don’t like the clinical terms and all the bull shit that goes with them.  Nor does my cool lesbian hippie therapist and I adore her for that.  I have covered it up with booze, books and Xanax and a fabrication of the wine hustler pizzazz Elizabeth that everyone knows and loves……I got rid of the booze and chose to live healthier and “happier”. I am still fun though damn it!!  But rather a different version.  I have adapted through some Darwinian theory of survival of the fittest reality based TV series now being shown on Netflix better me.  As close to the best me as I can be right now.  Room to grow and prosper with all that Namaste happy stuff and finding my center and shit.  Music is medicine, I entertain my brain when it gets bored, which is often and the days I feel like I may run right out of my skin, I take another half a pill and take a deep breath and know it’s OK to not be OK……I will get there……maybe…..allow myself to simply feel, no matter the emotion.  Until then I focus as much energy as I have on him, on Adler and his battle and fight for life.  I turn it all towards him, allowing myself some time here and there for me, when I can.  A chat with a girlfriend or my mom, some social media ( thank God for that or I would have no connection to the outside world) a random date night with the hubby, some fun texts exchanged with a buddy or like I have mentioned, a day dream all filmed in my head.  This is honestly as it’s golden finest here.  From my brain to the key pad.  A comforting sound.  So yea, I am OK, for now!