Finally had my Cryfest

Have you ever read the Tell Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe? Well, this damn cancer has been eating away at me (drum drum drum from underneath the floorboards of my emotions).  Screw you Edgar Allen Poe, I’m doing perfectly fine.  I’m getting just drunk enough every day to function and not feel. It’s working for me. So stop your damn heart from beating underneath my feet. For Fuck’s sake. Enough already!

Truth be told. I feel like I haven’t FELT anything in the past week. I’ve been more than happy to busy myself with facts and statistics, and to hold off on the feeling part.

Well, it’s been 7 days at this point. I think I’m due for a good, cleansing cry. But I CAN’T cry. Shit. Why have I conditioned myself to be so unfeeling? Crap.

I try to think of sad things, like puppies getting run over…..still nothing. Crapola. This is bad.

I decide it’s time for plan B. Leave the house! A novel idea. OK, it’s lunchtime, I have to eat. Lemme go for a walk to a good neighborhood eatery and get some wine and food. Perfectly reasonable thing to do given my situation, right?!

So I head out (BTW — my outfit was shameful I won’t even describe it to you b/c I’m too embarrassed — but know, that I was not looking cute (seriously, not looking for sympathy.empathy — just trying to paint the picture)). I pop my ear buds in and start blasting Bruno Mars “Marry you” on repeat. I’ve no idea why — but that song makes me so HAPPY.
So there I am strolling down Valencia (not sure why, but now that I have the cancer excuse, I don’t feel the need to rush anymore — it’s sort of great — I’m just taking it ALL in, slowly and calmly) jammin’ out to Bruno — and I find myself at Radish. An AMAZEBALLS local resty across from the Lexington Bar (one of the more famous Lesbian bars in SF).  I knew that the lezzies would take me in and comfort me on my day of need. I love me a good lezzie hug (for those of you who don’t know me — I am absolutely not being rude, just talking in slang and being very serious).
So I order a salad and some wine and decide to re-read all of the utterly inspiring  messages you all have emailed, texted and facebooked to me.  Hoping to get some tears going. Nothing… (I think it’s because the music in Radish was so darn good — I found myself dancing in my chair rather than trying to perfect the art of crying!). After no success there, I decided to push on.
I took to the mean streets of the Mission (jk jk jk).  It was actually a gorgeous and hot day here in SF, so I walked around my hood — which is indeed the Mission — and jammed out to more music in my ear buds.  Something I’ve  noticed about myself in the past few days: I’m less wound up and less stressed out. I think this diagnosis has really put A LOT of things into perspective for me.
So, I’m strolling. Fully with the intent of heading home — but my body takes me to Sya. Sya is another one of my angels. When I was going through all of my IVF hell, I decided that I needed help relaxing. Enter Sya. She is an amaze massage/spiritual guide.  I started seeing Sya weekly one year ago and she helped me through a lot of shit. She helped me more than some stupid post on a blog could convey!
So it’s really no surprise that I walked to her studio.  She’s been a beacon for me. She’s taught me how to think in the positive, not the negative — how to do affirmations –and so, so much more.
What’s crazy is that I haven’t seen Sya for massage therapy in about, I don’t know, 6 months. We sort of drifted apart. She helped get me to the right place spiritually, and, in my body — and we went our separate ways once she’d succeeded. But today — I needed her (OH, and HUGE aside. Guess where Sya us from??? Yeah Booyyeeeee, the rough buff — that’s right, she’s born n raised in Buffalo. Holla!)
I knock on the door of Urban Oasis (Sya’s fab practice) and she opens the door. FINALLY I’m overcome by emotion. I blurt/cry out “I have cancer” and then she grabs me and gives me the best, most embracing hug ever. I finally weep. Like really ugly weep. Like snot falling on my shirt weep. It didn’t last too long. But long enough for me to really feel cleansed.
I had no idea that Sya would be the one that I felt like confessing to. I am just grateful that she took me in and listed to me for an hour.
It must be the Buffalo connection — we all take care of one another.
So, shameless plug here — go support Sya and get an amazing therapeutic massage from her. Her website is:

3 thoughts on “Finally had my Cryfest

  1. a good cry is good for you. don’t have to be always stoic. i have let my eyes fill every now and then.we will get thru this with all your friends ,family and supporters and medical team and your biggest champion paul,

  2. Pingback: Inspiration – Part 4 | Comfortably Numb

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