before treatment...

On nights like this nothing makes the thoughts go away as far as I need them to go. I'm up when I should be asleep. I have treatment tomorrow and I thought I wasn't nervous, thought the port made it easier but I'm finding that it does and it doesn't .

Treatment, a reminder of the reality of my life. I'm thinking about work, money, how the fuck am I going to pay all these damn bills?!  I have to put on a brave face and go through the process tomorrow. The poking and the prodding, the cold room, the clinical smell, the stagnant air, the lifeless paint, the devoid doctors and hopeful smiles, that's my birds eye view of treatment.

Louis CK isn't helping, this glass of red wine isn't helping and the trees, they ain't helping. I could crawl into bed and take the Ambien the doctor prescribed, I can't sleep, didn't I mention. All this sounds depressing or not happy but it is neither of those things, it's just my life. God willing I'll wake up tomorrow, I'll do my breath work, I'll pray and more than likely cry before I get into the shower, put on my red lips, create some eyebrows and go to treatment.

I'm trying not to cry, it feels like I'm always trying not to cry. I had to be honest tonight, maybe saying all this will help me sleep, sleep, I can't sleep.