I have horrid mouth sores,,,but worse are the sores in my throat. I can’t swallow and it feels like I can’t breathe. Basically because I can’t…and I can’t breathe through my nose because i’m horribly congested.

Thankfully yesterday a nurse came to do a nose swab to see if i have some sort of infection, or, just a cold. if you’ve never had a big stick with small cotton at the end shoved what feels like 20 feet into your nose…you should try it sometime. It…Is…so…not….awesome.

I told the hus. I look like Angelina Jolie….an he was all “really?” and he sounded so excited. And I hated to disappoint him, but well, not like itd be the first time. And I was like, “just my lips, dumbass”. And he was all “oh”. I could hear the disappointment in his voice and I was like…”it’s chemo, not the drug Captain America got…I don’t even know why I have to explain this to you. Damn.”

Mentally I feel the same as I do physically. So I don’t want to move. No one notices because of the mouth and throat sores, I’m not able to speak or eat much so it’s not like anyone expects any different- and attributes everything to that. So I have that going for me..,which is nice. I guess.

In other news…I have a niece I watch from afar. She’s my older brother’s 17 year old daughter. I haven’t seen her in 14 years (my brother is a big ass loser – it runs in the family) and he disappeared from her life when she was a toddler. She lives with her mother who is a nurse…but who is also an alcoholic, in and out of rehab for years and years, sound familiar? I’ve watched Rachel from afar for a couple of years now- and lately she has seemed more and more distressed.
Last summer her mother kicked her out of the house for a man (omg! The familiar tones of that shit broke my heart!). She has a boyfriend- who from what I can tell is kind of a pothead. She was working at McDonalds for awhile- I’m not sure if she’s still in school. She seems to have a lot of friends but also seems depressed and angry a lot (who wouldn’t be in that situation?) Anyway, I’ve never said anything to her, or interfered in any way. Until yesterday.

Yesterday Rachel wrote about her anger toward her mother, and said “how am I supposed to act with a mother like her who’s been in and out of rehab my whole life…who kicked me out of the house last summer….I want to kill myself.” And I had to say something. I just gave her the usual cliche’ speech about suicide not being the answer and what would be the point of killing herself to get back at her mom…you know, the one that truly suicidal people are like WTF? Leave me alone- I said I can’t take anymore!

Well, that isn’t how Rachel responded to my message. Rachel said, “Thank you…this really meant a lot to me and you’re right, suicide is not the answer. I have a year till my 18th birthday I can make it.” great- right? Then she said the part that broke my heart… First, I should explain that my maiden name and Rachel’s last name are the same…her mother was actually married to my brother at one point. So, Rachel noticed this, and she said, “I don’t know if you know my real dad or not, but I still don’t get what made him not want to stick around…it sure sucks.” I told her the usual- yes it does suck (i didnt tell her the suck part never goes away) it isn’t her fault he didn’t stick around – I mean – he has been in prison half her life. ( I didn’t tell her that part). I did tell her that her real dad is my brother… And he is a drug addict and none of it is her fault and I was sorry her parents were/are not there for her. (I mean, if someone can benefit from the thousands of dollars I spent on therapy- great!). I feel so bad for her- she didn’t ask to be born in to our fucked up family (& we is sum fuked up whiskey tango peeps! Hard to climb outta that hole!) as it seems like she has no one and has fallen into the wrong crowd.

Afterwards, I thought about how thankful I am that my children will not grow up in that kind of environment. I mean I’m not the greatest parent – but I think I was pretty successful at hiding my (whisper). *mental illness* from them. I don’t think I will be around to see them grow into adults- but ya know- I think maybe that’s god’s way of protecting them. And me, because I just want them to be happy…and I don’t think I would have ever been able to heal (mentally) from what my parents did to me. And I don’t want them to suffer from our fucked up “Family Traditions”. I want that to end with me.