Since I found out I had cancer. In my hotel room in Amman, Jordan – I remember writing on here at something like 3am (albeit my memory is so shot I’d have to look back at the posts to be sure of that…) that it was confirmed. And spending at least another month, if not more, believing it was stage 3 cancer….which is very different to a grade 3 tumour which is what I actually had.

And here I am, a year later, very knowledgeable about grades, stages, chemo types, effects, lumps, scars, burns, Smurfs and so very many other things. It is quite amazing how much information I have absorbed – I remember writing about that as well – having to learn so much about fucking cancer. And I did. Fortunately I also learnt about the cures.

I was on the bus home today sitting next to a man who was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. As he said, there was no remission for him. No, I am not suffering from some weird survivors guilt, it just made me stop and think – well, feel actually.

What an incredibly journey this last year has been. Yet I am here right now feeling so very sad. And tired. I need to get through these next couple of months, literally, and then have my space, my time, my travel to focus on me. I resent the fuck out of The Man for hurting me so very much right now, for fucking things up so royally – all the arguments over the last couple of months, all the crap could have been resolved had he been honest. Except I miss him terribly right now. I so wish I didn’t.

I want to be jumping up and down, celebrating, full of gratitude I am cancer free. And, there are times in each day I am like that – literally jumping up and down since I am exercising a lot which feels great. Not so great for my knee which is fucked though. But I am also very raw, very drained and have so much on practically as well as emotionally.

Planning to move out of here by 23rd August, holding the kids as they spin – finishing school next week, saying goodbye to all their friends, preparing to go and live with their dad. Constant juggling. I want The Man next to me, I want him to be standing beside me, to help me to be strong, to feel his arms around me as I go to sleep. Protecting me. Fuck it hurts. I don’t know what will happen between us. He has fallen apart, I haven’t. But I am left alone to pick up the pieces at the moment.