Imposter

I apologize for the abundance of negative posts, and tonight's is no exception. I am kind of stuck here in this emotion of anger and don't know how to get out. For those of you who don't know me let me do a little introducing of the "pre-cancer" Holly. And I am by no means tooting my own horn or patting my pre cancer self on the back, I am just describing the girl that I worked my whole life to be. I was a happy person. I tried my hardest to smile as much I could. I loved to help others. I loved to serve others. I would come to your aid no matter the situation, I would drop all that I had to help you. I loved a clean house, and a scheduled home. I worked, I went to school, I was a mom, I was a wife. I loved to cook, I loved to craft, I loved to be full of life, full of friends, full of love, full of wisdom. I am not using the past tense because I am not these things anymore, it is more for the effect of my "imposter". I am on the edge of a nervous breakdown. I don't care that my kids are up at ten playing video games, I don't care that my nine month old is drooling on my cell phone. I don't care that my upstairs is a disaster. My bed is not made. My laundry is not folded. I don't care. I am moving in slow motion in a whirlwind world. I cannot catch up. I don't want to. I am going through the motions of a life that is not supposed to be mine. I have been fighting my whole life. I just want to breath. I want my son to be restfully sleeping for a normal day at school, playing on the playground, riding a bike, doing all of the other things that normal seven year old boys without cancer do! I want to be able to enjoy the first year of my little Gavs. I want to have fun with my daughter this last year before she starts kindergarten. As I am not caring about all of these things in my crumbling life, I fake a smile and figure out how I am going to console my nine month old baby who is screaming in pain from teething and how I am going to find time to let my five year old daughter know that I still do love her, all the while trying not to lose one second with my Spencer. My house is a mess, I am chubby, my hair is turning silver, yes Sara, it really is, and my face is broken out. I am rambling. I am a mess. Who is this imposter?