What they didn’t tell me.

They didn’t tell me that I would be on an emotional roller coaster. That my happy days would be the greatest, but they would be few and far in-between the most horrible low days. Most days are low now.

Melanoma keeps me from soaking in the sun too long. It makes me worry myself into a frenzy one morning when I see a pink itchy spot on my chest. It makes me stare at my moles. It makes me hate my body because of the distorted leg I now bear.

They didn’t tell me that taking my ovary out along with a huge tumor would completely -F- my hormones up. That’s my diagnosis. I have never had these kinds of mood swings. I have never been so consistently overwhelmed by life in general. Each day I wake up ready to face the world, and by 8:00AM I am in the classroom, staring at a load of impressionable minds that I all-too-easily just snap at instead of teach. I have no patience.

Being a middle school band director takes an amazing amount of patience.

They didn’t tell me that every pain I feel makes me worry that something new is wrong with me.

So, honestly… I am struggling. The above mental battles are vying for attention with my two sweet baby girls, and my husband. And the demands that are above and beyond my classroom job (I’m never volunteering for anything work related ever again), and a few life decisions that need to be made.

I don’t see myself in any more of a difficult situation than any other person living their life, but I would like to get my head above water for a little more than just the second it takes to grab a quick breath.

Maybe just being alive takes an amazing amount of patience. This is my mountain.