Stop please I want to get off

That's it. I've had enough. I'd like a refund on my ticket. Unbuckle my seat belt please. Stop the ride I want to get off. 

I've described being diagnosed with cancer and the subsequent treatment as being on a roller coaster. One hell of a scary, terrifying roller coaster. Constant ups and downs, highs and lows - feeling optimistic and positive one day and completely downtrodden and spent the next. 

But I think that it could also be described as one of these:

It picks you up and spins you round at such a rate that sometimes it's impossible to know where you end or begin. Your mind whirls with possible scenarios, your emotions are in a maelstrom and it leaves you feeling sick, dizzy and unsteady on your feet.

Or it could even be described as this:

A series of knocks and bumps that jar your bones and make your brain rattle in your head (metaphorically speaking).

I'm fed up of spending half my time in hospitals waiting to see medical professionals. I'm tired of treatment that's taken away so much of who I am and want to be. 

I don't want to be in a chemically induced menopause and all that comes with it at 33 years old. I hate the fact that I will more than likely never have children and that realistically I may also never have a partner either. 

I'm tired of the fear and anxiety. I'm sick of worrying about shoulder ache, back pain, a cough or a headache. I've had enough of the constant uncertainty and not knowing what my future may hold. I'm over having my mind constantly whirring and packed full of what ifs and maybes. 

I'm fed up of my internal contradictions and paradoxes. Wanting to make the most of my life but being scared to plan in case the worse happens. Feeling that I need to pack everything in that I want to do as soon as possible, but being unable to because of medical treatment. 

I hate feeling like a failure because I'm finding it so difficult to be positive right now.

I'm exhausted. I've had enough of being on this ride. I want to get off. I need steady solid ground where I feel safe, secure and protected.

But I can't have that. I'll never have that. I'm always going to be stuck in this eternal fairground navigating the rides, the bumps, the peaks and troughs. I can only hope against hope that one day it will be more carousels and candyfloss than big dippers and waltzers.