The Challenge of Writing

There is something about the self-orientation of this writing that has been off-putting to me this past couple of weeks. I've been tired and sick of talking about myself and uncomfortable about myself at parties. feels like I'm whining most of the time. and I'm slow at conversation, kind of dull. I want to maintain the social ramble, but this weekend, I was invited to 4 or 5 events tonight and had all kinds of other opportunities, and just haven't been able to make a commitment to any of it. We did go to a nice party tonight, but I ran out of steam quickly. I'm enjoying my porch for the moment, but getting ready to go in and unwind. I'm trying to work my way back into regular writing but like the difficulty I'm having with party-talk, the thoughts don't flow naturally when I'm writing recently, and my already taxed energy sags further with the attempts to organize thoughts into something worth reading.

Having a soft duck-down on my head now - straight and gray - I finally feel somehow okay about the practically-bald look. I just wore a hat today, and I think I may start going in to work that way too. The wigs have been fun, and rediscovering makeup has been a good thing, I think, but wearing a wig all day one winds up with an elastic indentation like you get from socks that are too tight around the top and the constant dull headache that goes along with that has gotten to be oppressive. Tonight I wore a  wore a charming straw hat that I've had for years but just started wearing, along with a little vintage brown-and-white polka-dot dress; one of the women at the party told me I looked like a character out of a classic movie. I was flattered; I try to enjoy the theatricality of hair choices and look at the clothing as costuming, to have fun with it, but it often feels like I'm all alone in my own little performance. It was nice to know that someone noticed; nice to feel like I looked okay, because it still feels odd to be the almost-bald one.

A friend who went through the experience 9 years ago came over and showed me her breasts today. Now there's another thing I never thought I'd do...look at and feel a friends chest as a shopping activity. But I never thought I'd be doing bodywork for breast cancer patients in a physical therapy setting, massaging breast scars and mobilizing implants with my hands all over a patient's breasts, yet I've been doing that for over a year now. Life is change and full of surprises. I wonder what other surprises are in store. Anyway, those virtual tatas that I viewed today were encouraging. The idea of that surgery at this point is not at all frightening, at least not any more than any surgery, as it all is sobering, serious and potentially dangerous, but I look back now and wonder why, once I initially heard the diagnosis, I didn't feel then as I do now-"just get them off of me".

I think I need to try to start meditating again. Hopefully I will do some tomorrow.