My Mum was meant to be in to and out of hospital yesterday, but as sod's law inevitably dictated, she didn't go down to theatre until about 4:30pm and stayed in there for about 2 1/2 hours, which meant there was no way she'd be home last night. I hadn't really cried about the cancer situation, a few sneaky tears but nothing to speak of. Actually, that's a lie, I had spoken of them: I'd mentioned them to Ma. But last night was proper sobbing, silently, on my own, in the front room, seconds after I closed my laptop only 2 minutes or so into the much-anticipated Skype-with-D session. A webcam image of me would've been enough to give even the hardiest of horror film fanatics nightmares so I certainly wasn't going to show him my face.
I told him, via text and facebook message, that I was sorry. I'm so worried he won't talk to me now. I almost want to say "Welcome to My World. So, D, this is me. Great eh? What have you let yourself in for?" and I may well do that.
Three months of feeling horrid, every day, AND the depression which cruelly lurks in the shadows AND the diagnosis of breast cancer for my Mum AND the relief of it being (hopefully) all taken away and her being OK made for a pretty hefty sobbing session. Thank the makers of Olbas oil and Breathe Easy nose strips, is what I say. And cushions. And BBC News on Freeview.
I got my first comment from someone, as Anonymous. It was a thing of loveliness; support and encouragement from a stranger from I don't know where. Thank-you so much person, your words do help, truly they do.
And so, the next day, i.e. now, I feel so much better. I feel like a fraud, though. Last night's tears and sorrow, it was all real and I felt I could see no improvement, and that it was all just. too. much. to cope with. But now... doesn't feel so bad. Still not great but not as utterly desperate for comfort and reassurance as I was last night. I still feel very bad about the D-on-Skype "incident" but... I suppose I shall have to wait to see if he still talks to me. GOD, I hope so much he does. He's a darling.