In the name of honest writing -
It has been a hell of a week. One hell of a week. I've tried so hard to be upbeat, looking back and
seeing the blessings of this past year, learning from them, moving
forward, but I ain't gonna lie - tough.
Today I finally broke down and sobbed, hard tears, ugly cry -
sad, I'm mad, I'm mournful, I'm just lost, lost, lost in so many ways.
The past 2 years have been very difficult. I've never put myself in
front of any physical danger; I'm safe. I can push myself physically,
but I'm not going to para-sail or even snow-board anytime soon. I am
comfortable pushing myself intellectually, spiritually, emotionally -
that's "safe." Until the past 2 years. And I made it through my back
stuff, and I was on the road to recovery, and then cancer and this year,
and with this week's anniversaries, and looking back, acknowledging
them, has been hard.
I don't get it - I don't know why
I have had cancer (particularly breast), and I don't know why I "chose"
chemotherapy and radiation, and with that the short and long-term
consequences of the treatments including osteoporosis and PTS, and TBI,
but I guess I did. And being on this side of half of the "treatments"
and in the receiving end of recovering and the after-affects is a lot of
work. I survived those 9 months, survived, and now - with recovery -
day in and day out - it's tough.
What came easy a year ago - physically, intellectually, socially - is hard now. Hard - takes energy, concentration, focus, coordination. Getting
up in the morning and choosing to have a good attitude, choosing to go
to the gym, choosing to work, to teach, to interact with others, to
write, to love me, is tough, and it's a conscientious action every day
to choose joy and hope. And there are days when I don't want to choose
joy and hope, but I do, because I will not, will not, go elsewhere.
this week, I have chosen to dip my toes (thank heavens I didn't stub my
toes) into the sorrow that a year of loss and pain and anguish and
sadness and horror and fear and the most unbearable unexplainable
physical and mental pain I have ever experienced has brought with it. How does one deal with
anniversaries of loss, of survival, of "whew"? Acknowledge and move on?
Walk around and ignore? Celebrate survival?
comes from meeting life's challenges vigorously. Don't numb yourself to
your trials and difficulties, nor build mental walls to exclude pain
from your life. You will find peace not by trying to escape your
problems, but by confronting them courageously. You will find peace not
in denial, but in victory." (Swami Sivananda)
to a friend as I walked in the sun this afternoon. And then I stopped by
my son's home. And once we got the kids settled into a movie, I cried
to Tyler and Meili. Sobbed. Poured out these same fears. Interestingly,
Meili said, "Tyler hasn't known what to do for you. He's felt lost as to
how to help you." I mulled that over as I walked home (who else is so
blessed to have a son and his wife and their beautiful children live 2
blocks away). And the answer to Meili's pondering came - I need him now.
I need them now. I need his family to help me in my recovery. In my
moving forward. That's what he can do for me - help me move forward, in
hope, in joy, in peace, in victory.
ya'll - thank you for your love these past 2 years. Thank you for your
love moving forward, and I hope that I can in some way, begin the