Hi. I know what you're all going to be thinking.
"Bloody hell, here she goes again,
another morning, another bloody monologue."
Sorry, I just...
I just need to get this out of my head.
Graham and I had a bit of a fight last night.
I’m sorry.
It's just so hard.
He hasn't done anything wrong.
He was being all affectionate and we were kissing, and he was being really gentle.
And then his hand moved down towards where my scar is, and I just lost it.
It just came out of nowhere.
I flipped.
He tried to hug me and calm me down, but I just kept shouting and shouting.
I can't even remember what was coming out of my mouth.
I have never felt like that before.
It was like this feeling of absolute disgust with my body and I'm just...
completely lost.
And I've got my results from the OP on Friday,
but I just feel like I've...
barely got my head around my diagnosis
let alone all the other crap that comes with it.
He didn’t know what to do,
so he walked out and I just stood there
in front of the mirror and all I could think about was how I...
I barely...
recognise myself anymore.
And this is just the beginning.
It's just the beginning.
It's only been a month since I found out.
I'm really
trying.
I go into work mode, you know, practical, organised Heather
wanting to control and be on top of everything
like the juicer, the spiraliser, the flipping kimchi, doing all the things I can
in the hope that something might just help swing it in my favour.
But then I freak out like I did last night.
And all I want to do is lie in my bed and never get up.
Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry again.
I'm sorry again.
I've got to go.
Got to get ready for a meeting first thing.
Please don't feel like you need to say anything.
I just had to get all of this out of my head.