Darian's Not So Secret Diary

I've never really been one to cry. It by no means stems from a lack of desire to cry. Life's handed me plenty of opportunities that I wanted nothing but to curl up and cry. A big part of it comes from how I was raised, and I think my brother would probably agree, even if it hurt to do so. It was just sort of this unspoken rule, you didn't cry. If you did cry, that was shut down real quick. Either by some jackass remark made by dad, or by mom trying to get you to shut up to prevent said jackass remarks from dad. But by the time you were old enough to realize that mom was trying to help you, you had already learned that it just wasn't acceptable to cry in our family. The damage was done. Suck it up, buttercup, no one wants to see that. In the darkest of times, it was a rarity to see mom cry. Or grandma. And I don't recall ever seeing my dad cry. Maybe he did at mom's funeral, but at that moment his feelings was the last thing on my mind. There were times growi

Day 14 of the hostage situation, despite the best efforts of her mind and body to get her to succumb to just wasting away into a depressed, cookie stuffed, pile of a sobbing mush...the prisoner has escaped 3 times. Once to Hobby Lobby, once to church, and once to run errands with her husband. Daily, efforts are made within her heart and mind to break her down, but as of today, she has not yet caved. Although she did purchase a can of Pringles she has absolutely no intentions of sharing with anyone. We consider this a step in our favor...give in, become sad, scared...cave.... People ask me a lot, how I'm doing, and I always only say "I'm doing okay." I think for a couple of reasons. One, because I am okay. Two, because there aren't many people asking that question that really, really want the TRUE answer. Like, if I just unloaded on them everything going through my mind I can almost guarantee they'd just stand there, staring at me, speechless. Because they

So I had mentioned in one of my earlier posts about joining some support groups on Facebook; not so much in looking for support but in seeking to be a supporter. I don't have a ton of support group experience, I absolutely sucked at it when I was younger. Turns out, yup, still suck at it now. I know, I'm as shocked as you are... When I decided to dive into this whole support group thing, I just kind of thought a group was a group. Yeah, not so much. Sure there are some blanket, general, breast cancer/issues groups. But it also seems to be progressive type groups as well. When you're in X phase of the process you're in this group, then you kind of graduate to this group, then this group, then at some point you've been through the whole cancer process - you're officially a support group badass and can pop in and out of any of them sprinkling wisdom as you go. And then there's me...just stumbling my dumbass all the way through each one of them. During th

I keep crying today. I have no idea why. I have no idea what started it. And I have no idea how to stop it. I'm just sitting here, tears trickling down my face without restraint, carrying with them a pain, or sorrow, or fear I cannot yet understand. It comes from deep within my soul, the parts that only God sees, only God hears the thoughts coming from it. It feels like pain from another lifetime, from pain I've not yet had to face, it comes from change not yet revealed to me. My tears are too great for me to understand. I know some people would tell me it's because I've been through so much, it's hard, I can't hold it in all the time. But none of that is true. Steve, my rock, my guardian, my friend, he asked me what was wrong and I told him I think I'm just tired. Just really, really tired. But I don't even think that's true. In fact I know it's not true, because my heart says so. Some people would tell me to not be so hard on myself, I'