I had a horrible dream about wearing makeup again! The smell of it! The feel of the foundation on my face! (Shuddering)

I haven’t worn makeup since the last of my treatment. I threw out over $200 worth of palettes!

I really loved my highlights. So I miss those.

I suppose I was dreaming of makeup because I was discussing side effects of my treatment.

More importantly how smart I was to wait before I started working again because the rumble bum was awful. Even now Standing in Second booth, having bloating and gas with the fan on made an explosive combination!

My mom was aghast. “Why are you so disgusting? No wonder you’re single! You talk so disgusting!”

I was kind of hurt. I was discussing cancer and medical issues and she was worried about me offending the opposite sex?! Get bent!

So I moved onto from my side effects to how I was paranoid I couldn’t differentiate between the pain from my diverticulitis or my hernia. Because my pain tolerance was askew thanks to the tumour I had.

She stared at me. “Don’t try to change the subject! I can’t get you married if you don’t grow up!”

“What would be the point of being married?” I exclaimed. “You can’t have any more grandkids!”

She glared at me “someone to take care of you”

I don’t care about marriage. I wanted to talk about my cancer. This is why I don’t like talking about anything related to my cancer.

I am made to feel guilty. I am made to feel like a “pick me” girl. And a humble brag.

3 thoughts on “WHY CANT YOU JUST GROW UP!

  1. NOT liking. Cancer is such a frustrating experience and you should be able to share. Especially with someone who was there for a lot of it with you. And no, you do NOT need someone to take care of you and what on earth does she think she needs to ‘shop’ for you??? Gracious, men are close to a pair of shoes, but not exactly!!! (there is that first blush of wow when marriage is new, then after a bit they kind of hurt a little, later they are worn out and comfy, and then..sometimes..you wonder if you need new ones!)

    Liked by 1 person

♥writing was all I had, all I’ve ever had, the only currency, the only proof that I was alive. Memory.♥ each of us has a story to tell. Leave your thoughts. Leave your comments.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.