I hate pity parties. Hate ’em. But dammit I have been finding myself being the host of exactly that. I have my job, which is a pity party in itself, yet I will defend it. I love and will defend the job of a CNA. I have my family, which consists of a 2 year old daughter (light of my life), and a boyfriend of 5 years (that is a complete different topic). Plus I am also going to school to be an occupational therapist assistant, then hopefully on to my bachelors. That sounds great right? Sounds great to me also. While I work 67.5 hours biweekly, being a full time mother, and struggling with school, and finding myself, I’m also trying to cope with the fact that my mom is dying.
My mother was diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer 3 weeks after my daughter was born. I didn’t think anything of it, as bad as that sounds. My mother has always been such a fighter. She has always been the run-to person when things get tough. As hard as this is to admit, I thought “breast cancer? no biggie. People beat it everyday.” I wasn’t there for my mom the way I should’ve been. I went to one appointment, which was her first chemo treatment. I thought she was supposed be to cancer free. Chemotherapy is supposed to fight cancer.
We found out November 13th, 2015 that the cancer spread to her lungs. Not even 2 years after the first diagnoses. I felt so much hate, so much anger. The world around me was crumbling. I looked at my daughter, and cried. I cried because I didn’t get a chance to know my Grandmother. The fear that my daughter was going to miss out on what I did, saddens me. I never had the chance to remember my Grandma, and I dread thinking that the same thing may happen with my daughter.
So now, that I’m doing school, doing work, doing family, and trying to be the daughter that I hope one day my daughter will be, I feel like I’m lacking. I feel like I can’t be in 5 places at once, and I don’t know which is more important. The nights get shorter, and the days drag on because I am exhausted. My daughter is number 1. Which leads to school, because I want to provide a better future for her. My mom means the world to me though. She is my backbone, my rock. Our relationship is the weirdest relationship ever, but the thought of her gone, depresses the hell out of me. I cry randomly at the thought of having her gone. I try and have hope, but I haven’t read one good thing about the kind of cancer she has.
I want so bad to be the best person I can be for everyone. A good mother, a good daughter, a good employee, a good student, and a good girlfriend. Being torn between what is more important is a very difficult feeling.
I look forward to tomorrow, because that means today is almost over.