Rage Against the Dying of the Light

My dad has cancer.  Yesterday I spent 13 hours finding out my dad has cancer, waiting while he had a biopsy tumor extraction, and recovered from surgery.  Trying to process everything yesterday while trying to be strong, have courage, be brave, be a duck.  Water off a duck’s back, floating on the tumultuous surface, I don’t know. Trying to deal with it. Waiting. Waiting. Praying. Hoping. Coping.

 

Of all the things I’ve ever worried about in my entire life… my dad getting cancer did not make the list.  I am caught flat footed.  It takes the wind from my sails.  I am wholly unprepared for this.

 

I don’t know what to do, what to think. My poetry brain has kicked in to try and cope.  No drinking, smoking, self harm, nonsense or shenanigans.  Healthy coping mechanisms.  Read. Write. Create poetry.  Meditate.  Count.  Breathe. Breathe.  Breathe.  Remind myself to breathe again. Keep breathing.  Make lists. Shove the feelings down deep.  No, try to feel.  Nope, too hard to feel.  Ok shove those feelings away.

Hands shaking, anxiety weighted in my chest.

 

Realize: He found out last Friday.  Told my mom Saturday night.  Mom told Husband Monday night.  I found out Tuesday morning.  Why am I the last person to find out?  Bad enough it’s happened.  Now the lies.  Betrayal.  As if dealing with the cancer was not bad enough now I deal with deceit as well.  What do  I do now?  How do I start to deal with all this?  How do I cope? What do I do now?

 

Will I ever escape the rage I feel inside?

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