Today, I hate the world. I know hate is a strong word but that is how I feel. I hate the doctors for not taking my bestie seriously and letting things get to this point. I hate the happy people around me who are laughing and carrying on when all I want to do is scream. I hate my husband for not consoling me. I hate the higher being – whoever/whatever it is – for letting this happen to my best friend. 

But who I really hate the most today is myself. I am full of guilt. The last 7 months have been crazy for me. I worked insane amounts of overtime. I pulled away from my friends and focused on my project. I should have been paying attention. I should have lifted my head long enough to realize something was wrong.

The anger stems from feeling helpless as well. There is not a thing I can do to make this go away. I wish I could be like Michael Clarke Duncan’s character John Coffey in the movie the Green Mile and just suck the cancer out of Dani. But I can’t.

Writing my thoughts down is a release. Theraputic in a way. I am able to yell and scream but not hurt anyone in the process. 

I haven’t figured out what I want out of this blog. Or whether I’ll even keep up with it. But for now, it’s an outlet. And a much needed one.


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