Looking for sparkle

I'm not gonna lie: I'm feeling a little down. I feel like all the emotions I have felt in the last two months have suddenly come tumbling down again upon my shoulders, and I just feel so tired. I was feeling like quite a hot shot for a while there, making my way through all this with such grace, such positivity. But today, all it took was for Michael to look at me this morning and, looking concerned, say, "Aw baby... there's no sparkle in your eyes," and I was suddenly crying in his arms, even though I was feeling fine the moment before (emotionally tired, but nowhere near tears). For someone who is normally very emotionally healthy and level, this is extremely frustrating. "I don't know why I'm crying! I didn't even see this coming!" I said, in that squeaky crying voice. Michael, being wonderful, said I didn't need to know where it was coming from, and I should just cry, and he would make me some waffles. (Have I mentioned lately how much I love this man? Cuz I do, like, a lot.)

I'm just sad. You know when you've been carrying something heavy, and your muscles start to shake? That's how my heart feels right now - on the brink of collapsing into a heap. I know, I have plenty to be sad about, and the feeling is legitimate (I say this to people all the time; why is it so much harder to believe when I say it to myself?), but I keep thinking, "This isn't so bad, suck it up Johanna, this could be much worse," and then I feel guilty for feeling so sorry for myself, which makes it worse. My head knows this. My heart is harder to convince. I don't remember having such a hard time emotionally with cancer the first time around. I guess it's because I have much more mature emotions now than I did then (my friend used to joke that I didn't even have tear ducts, because I never cried at sad movies - now, however, I cry at commercials). I was much more self-centered and naive then; I remember my primary concern was not looking too much like a cancer patient and not having my summer activities interrupted. Now it seems I'm worried about everyone else as much or more than myself.

The thing that comes with worrying about everyone else, of course, is that it is impossible to do what everyone thinks I should do, and thus much more difficult to figure out what I want to do. Among the people closest to me, people are suggesting everything from, "Elope and start making babies now," to, "Do the Tamoxifen for a full 5 years - your health is the most important, and you should do what is the norm." Seems like good advice, but here's the thing: 1) Five consecutive years is the normal recommendation, but getting breast cancer at 29 is not normal. If I were 60+ like most breast cancer survivors, this would be easy. 2) My health is not just my breasts. It is my whole self, including my emotional health. And the thought of having to wait 5 more years to have children with the man I'm so excited to father of my children... right now, it is not easy. Maybe it will be easier next week, or next month, but my emotional health is not loving that idea, if there is another option. On the other hand, here is a thought someone offered that I thought was good, speaking of whole person health: I don't just need to heal physically from this. I also need to heal emotionally, because clearly I'm a little on edge. (And yes, I am taking steps to find a counselor, by the way.) Who knows how long that will take. I hope not 5 years. But also know not 5 days.

Did I mention I'm tired? I gotta go, and try to stop thinking about this for today.