Nights are the worst.
It’s during this time that my fighting mind, body, and soul want to shut down. Reality sets in, and everything slowly starts to seep through the cracks.
When I’m with Ronan, I keep the positive vibes and thoughts going. But it’s when I’m sitting alone in a cafeteria, trying to muster up some sort of appetite, that the evilness of this situation creeps in and tries to take over.
I am strong, and I push those thoughts out of my head. I have no choice. To be any other way would not be fair to Ronan. He needs me to fight for him 24/7.
And I do — even in my sleep.
I will fight for my beautiful “Brad Pitt baby” until we beat the shit out of cancer.
I thought about keeping this blog all business — just my positive, upbeat attitude. But I can’t do that. The dark side of what I am feeling and going through is real and painful.
I need to be vocal about this. I need an outlet.
This is me. This is real. There is no sugarcoating anything.
I am going to scream, cry, cuss, and yell.
This is my reality.
This is my hell.

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