In a fucking mood

I am in one of my fucking moods but am trying so hard to put a lid on it...

I think that people forget that I have a termimal illness. That stupid word 'termnal' always sounds so bloody dramatic, but actually, that is exactly what it is. I have an illness that will kill me one day and that by taking the medication I take daily, and every 28 days is helping to keep me alive and well. But because I look so well, people forget that I actually have a serious illness. I have this 'serious' illness, yet I work 40 hours a week - eight long hours each day, five days a week, waking up at 5.30am and leaving home at 7.00am, while others are still fast asleep in their beds, with not a care in the world. Yet I get to worry about paying all the bills as well as feed everyone. I pay for the roof over our heads, the water that goes down the drain every time the tap is turned on, the internet used constantly, the power used to heat rooms, play electronic devices, the food we eat or waste, the new carpet which everyone trods all over without a care...yep - thats me...and its my name on the mortgage papers until the day I die. But this appears to mean nothing...for some reason, when I put a point across, I am the mean, grumpy, bitchy one. People can treat my home with a lack of respect, sit on their arses while this woman with a terminal illness works to pay the bills, then cooks dinner (sometimes) and usually does the dishes because it doesn't occur to anyone else they need to be done...and yet I am tired...my tummy hurts constantly these days...I currently have the runs...I am worried about the impending results on Monday...and I need to try and rest up so I can get through another eight hours of work the next day.

Do people really understand what I am going through? And that actually you know what - when I think about it, I am pretty fucking amazing...when the chips are down, I don't fucking crumble like I would like to sometimes. I stand up and take the shit that is dealt to me because if I don't who the fuck else is going to? When David died, I managed the best that I could and brought my girls up to the best of my ability and with  absolutely unconditional love...and when people judged me and I lost friendships over my relationship with my now husband, I grieved for those friendships and continued on with my life. When my husband chucked his job in, I worked out a budget that we could live on, cutting out frivalous things and just 'took it'on the chin and dealt with it. What other option did I have? I didn't have anyone who could give me buckets of money to help get things paid...I did it all myself...me...alone...no one else...And then with being diagnosed with this bullshit disease, I have tried to deal with it as best as I can and as positively as possible...so people, please cut me some slack...just think about my life and what I have had to fucking well deal with.


Saturday 8th July 2017 - 10.02pm