Anxiety Never Stops

I’m convinced I have skin cancer.

Have I been tested for it, no. Have I been to the doctor for it, no. My anxiety tells me I have it, therefore, that overwhelming thought trumps all logic.

Fucking stupid anxiety.

I have a spot on my leg, my butt, and my breast that I FINALLY made a dermatologist appointment for. I’ve been well aware of the spot on my leg for about 10 years. I actually went to my family doctor a very long time ago about it because it became itchy and irritated looking. It pretty much consists of fleshy, pink colored bumps. It goes from the back of my knee all the way up to my butt. It’s a small strip, not my whole leg, about an inch in width. They diagnosed me with freaking ring worm. No. I did not have ring worm. No, the topical cream you gave me did not work because I did not freaking have ring worm. The spot on my butt has developed in the past 5 years. It’s a cluster of pinkish-reddish, raised spots. The whole cluster is about the size of my palm. I’m not sure about the one on my breast. I discovered while breastfeeding.

Technically, no, I do not have skin cancer. I’d like to think, absolutely no I don’t because I’m still alive, but I also know that people can live with skin cancer their whole life and not even know. My brain does not know how to think positive. It instantly turns to the worst possible scenario every single time. I’m in no way, shape, or form trying to make light of skin cancer, or any cancer for that matter. Cancer is scary and ugly and I want no part of it. It takes people’s lives way earlier than necessary. This is just the way I, unfortunately, process thoughts. It’s part of my anxiety. If you do not have anxiety, I don’t expect you to understand or relate to my thought process. I wish I didn’t know how to relate to it either.

I’ve been talking about going to get the spot on my leg checked out by a dermatologist for a long time and I never got around to it. It didn’t seem important at the time and no one seemed concerned about it either.

Now that I have a baby, it’s so incredibly important. There are so many “what ifs”. What if this really is cancer? What if I went to the dermatologist 10 years ago and got this diagnosed correctly? What if it’s not cancer? I damn sure wouldn’t be writing this post and it would be one less thing that I’d have to worry about. What if my life is cut short? Too many “what ifs”. I could literally go on forever.

After researching what skin cancer looks like on the Internet, I decided it was time to make my appointment because some of my spots resembled some of those that I’d seen online. April 22nd at 2:30. 3 weeks of worrying. Maybe even more than that.

I so wish I wasn’t like this. I wish I did not have anxiety. I hope in 3 weeks I can look back at this and laugh and think, “Yea, this freaking anxiety really is stupid. It made me believe I had skin cancer.”

–The Kentucky Momma


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