A ‘Mouse’ Squatting in my Boob

I’ve always been aware of #breastcancerawareness but after this, I am a lot more serious about it. Ladies (and gents), please check your boobs for irregularities regularly. If you don’t know how, speak to a local healthcare practitioner.

It was a normal Monday morning shower. Until it wasn’t anymore. There I was, warm water cascading down over me, yet I was ice-cold with an indescribable feeling of dread; I had felt something unusual in my right boob – a hard lump. Could it be cancer? Nah, surely not?! But maybe… no, don’t be stupid! There’s no history of breast cancer in the family…but what about on your biological father’s side? It could be cancer… you’re at that age… These are just a few of the things that milled through my head the entire day. Needless to say, I hardly slept. I kept waking up during the night poking my boob. As sure as the earth rotates on its axis the knob was still there, feeling to me to be about the size of an old one Rand coin.

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Heartbreak Autopsy

Does the hurt you caused me ever sucker punch you unexpectedly?
Do you ever feel enveloped by a storm of sadness?
Do you ever wonder if I’ve wanted to die because of it?

Your broken promises are splinters of glass in my mind
“I’ll never hurt you” – the salt in my wounds

Do you ever have to stifle screams of terror at night
As the memories choke you with their icy hands
Their bony fingers squeezing the throat your lips often caressed

Silent tears flow as panic threatens to turn to hate
“I’m sorry” – the word I damn to Hell

I try to sleep to silence the voices in my head
My rest plagued by inescapable rooms
Every door I open leads to another dungeon of heartache

My bed is cold, a sanitized, steel slab
You make the Y-incision with the diamond of her engagement ring

Did she stand beside you as you cracked my ribs
To remove my still-beating heart?
Our end: your start

My Lockdown in Review

I have been reading through some of my posts that kept me sane during the hard lockdown last year. If you want to take a gander at them, the first post is here.

Part of me can hardly believe it has already been as long as that, because those first three weeks feel like a distant memory. Sometimes I wonder if they indeed did happen, because looking back now, I realize that as tough as those first-three-weeks-now-more-than-three-hundred-and-sixty-five-days have been, I’ve adapted and grown.

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An Auntlet of Memories…

There is some unwritten rule that says you’re not supposed to have favourites where family members are concerned. Well, if a former British Prime Minister could favour her one twin above the other, I can surely have a favourite aunt, and even though she traded her earthly shell for her angel wings this past Monday after a short battle with liver cancer, Aunty Cathy will always live on in my heart and memories.

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What’s the Worst Thing You can Step on in the Dark?

It’s not been the best week, so I’m grateful that it is Friday. Monday is the start of a new week and a new month. Historically February isn’t a good month for me; it brings with it many reminders that trigger deep bouts of sadness within me, but at least I know to expect them, right?

Anyhow, the inspiration for today’s post, comes from one of the pages I follow on Facebook. It had a post up today posing the question: What’s the worst thing you can step on in the dark?

I can think of quite a few things…

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Moodboard Monday: Blue

There are varied psychological interpretations as far as the colour blue is concerned, based on this article by Very Well Mind. Where are you on the spectrum?

Friday the 13th has nothing on Monday the 16th. Today I can do blue for #MoodboardMonday because what a day it has been already. Good grief!

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Moodboard Monday: Grey

I swear, I just blinked, and a week went by. I can’t believe it’s #MoodboardMonday again already. Today’s colour is grey (or gray, depending on what dictionary you favour). It’s the colour of my mood and the fog that has taken up residence in my brain.

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