I am feeling very sad. Seven months of hard core dietary changes, coupled with meditation, guided imagery, dancing, and singing did not succeed in shrinking the nodule. Today I was informed that it grew by 0.1 x 0.1 cm. It’s already hogging up ¾ of my thyroid gland.
Meanwhile I’ve been booted out of my apartment for three days, because the OCD maintenance crew in my apartment complex decided they had to replace all the doors, despite the fact that all the doors are working just fine. Is someone getting a kickback or what?
The new door they put in was too short, so there was a gap on the bottom. Enter Big Black Cockroach. Fortunately, I lived in Israel for years, so I adeptly chased the cockroach out the door, where it happily scurried away.
Meanwhile, the one broken item in my apartment has not been repaired, despite multiple requests. It’s been 100 fucking degrees, and my air conditioner does not work. Maintenance keeps claiming that it’s totally normal for AC to only bring the temperature down to 85 degrees, when you have the damn thermostat on 78 for twelve hours straight. I am not exaggerating by one minute here.
So I’m expected to pay over $1300/month for rent, plus about $500/month in utility bills for an AC that runs constantly but doesn’t do much. On the first day, when I informed the maintenance supervisor that my AC was on for an hour but the temperature only went from 87 to 85, he said, “Well, you were gone all day. Your apartment was hot. It takes time.”
It’s too noisy to be home during the day and too hot to be home at night. I have been staying at my mom’s, but as she often does when I’m vulnerable and in her space, she got all crazy on me, going for the jugular on some deep wounds, then leaving me a million messages back to back, saying lord knows what – I deleted them without listening.
Why is my family so fucking crazy? Can’t everyone just chill the fuck out and be normal and caring and supportive? Even relating to the loving parts of my clan is like playing a game of Russian Roulette. Then there’s my dad, who is just all about manipulation and control and possession, playing fucked up power games when I’m at my weakest and most vulnerable. Of course, he cries victim when I boot him out of my life again.
I end up feeling guilty all the time, on top of feeling traumatized, on top of dealing with whatever other crap I’m dealing with – like financially scrambling and fighting cancer and managing pain and shit.
I am feeling a lot better than earlier, though. I have spoken with some friends and reached out to some colleagues who can help me deal with the nodule on the energetic and mind/body levels. I am very proud of myself that I take excellent care of myself. I may have no control over certain circumstances of my life, but I refuse to be controlled by them.