My reactions to tragic, or sorrowful events, have always been tempered. I’m not sure why. My sister, who passed away in March, always hated being near me when something horrible was happening in our lives. Whether is was a loss of privileges for being naughty, or the loss of a pet, I held my ground, and picked on my sisters for being babies.
My sister thought I was heartless. I’m sure she knew that I didn’t hold it together for her funeral. I was strong for her throughout her final struggles, but our loss was too overwhelming, and I lost control of my emotions—and that is okay.
When we lost my brother in 2008, I had things to take care of–therefore, I was stoic. I wrote a choppy post, here about Dan, and that surreal day.
I believe I have written about all the contents of this post, but I am trying to work through my need to hide my feelings/emotions. The deep ones. The feelings that create such a strong emotion that keeping them hidden, is physically painful.
Every six months, since May 2011, I have had CT scans to monitor my cancer status. How weird does that sound? I can’t think of any other way to describe it. I have learned how to work through the scanxiety prior to the scan, and waiting for the results. However, when I receive the news of No Evidence of Disease (NED), I don’t feel anything. Only numbness. It’s as if it’s happening to someone I don’t know.
Don’t get me wrong, I am extremely grateful for being blessed with another six months of life. I just can’t seem to express my joy and relief.
As I have posted, I am a huge fan of the Seattle Seahawks. Now this will show my age, but I believe I’ve already divulged my advancing years, but it is the number in my head that counts—and it is nowhere near the number of years I have actually been on earth. I waited 30 years for the Seahawks to go to the Championship game, otherwise known as the Super Bowl. We didn’t win that year.
I waited another 8 years to see my team have another run for the title of NFL Champs.
For two weeks, since we won our conference championship, I have been in a state of—I suppose it could be called anxiety. I was having difficulty listening to interviews, and those Mr. Chatty Pants, ex-football stars blab about statistics, and their love fest of Peyton Manning.
The day before the Super Bowl, my husband and I went to look for party goods, which we knew would be pretty futile, since we are so far from Seattle. However, we did find some Super Bowl paraphernalia, team color bowls, some Seahawks napkins, and baloon decorations. The whole day, I had the worst chest pains. I knew it was anxiety…I have felt the same sensation a gazillion times in my life (okay, I’m exaggerating, but I knew the feeling). I did, however, consult with Dr. Google to make sure I wasn’t having a stroke or heart attack.
The day came. I have had a gut feeling since July, that this was our year. But, one year I believed it was my family’s year to win a huge lottery jackpot, so my gut feelings aren’t that trustworthy.
I could hardly breathe.
I couldn’t eat.
We won! We did exactly as I predicted. Our defense made Peyton Manning look like a rookie.
I prepared all day. Decorating, cooking, waiting on the edge of my seat. Trying to breathe and relax.
Of course, I was my silly self during the game. I’m a loud and proud fan. Win or lose. I jumped and danced around the house. I was hoping the pent up anxiety would be released.
And I was stoic. Well, not really stoic, but I was numb. My chest hurt, I struggled all day with shaky hands. When trying to talk to my husband after the game, I felt agitated, and my words were all jumbled, I made absolutely no sense.
I waited 38 years to see my favorite team win a championship.
Meh, it’s something I suppose I will have to work through with my therapist. This morning I am calm, and tears of joy spilled from my eyes. Those tears are also mixed with tears of frustration for the need to control myself in all situations.
It doesn’t matter, I will succeed in working through this. After 38 years, we won the championship title! That is beautiful! Even if I did feel the need to control my emotions. The Seahawks persevered, so can I.