The emotional waves pulsing through my body are extreme; I feel very alone and damaged. Nothing is certain anymore; I don't want to make any plans for the future because I don't know how long I will live. My body is disappointing me: I will lose my hair, possibly my breast, and have hot flashes and cold sweats due to early menopause. I feel a massive weight, like a big, dark blanket is covering me; doom: no one understands. I'm being told "you'll be fine, breast cancer is the best kind to have because there's a cure!" and I want to punch those people, because they can't tell the future. I'm tired of my feelings being minimized and I just want to be held while I cry, but no one fills those shoes, not even my partner. Cancer hits everyone differently. I have little patience for listening to people's "broken shoelace" stories; I think "I have a tumor growing in my breast! Unless you're going to help me or make me laugh, then move out of my way!" It took this amount of fear and anxiety to finally reach out to a support hotline in New York City, SHARE, where I got a wonderful survivor on the line, Marjorie, who spent a long time with me, listening, giving me tips on what to expect, and validating my feelings. I got off the phone and I felt like I could breath again, and we have a date to talk again next week, with her personal email to use just in case.