I hate Debbie Downers, but life is pretty rough right now….soooo bring on the Debbie Downer rant!
I literally feel as though I have stepped inside the walls of my own personal purgatory; my own health is failing me, and my heart–my everything–my grandmothers health continues to diminish. I am unable to visit her, just another thing cancer has robbed me of. Then of course guilt kicks in, I am sitting here dwelling on my sadness and all the bad encompassing my life–but, what about those around me that care for me? My sadness in addition to poor health is hard on them as well.
I have the same heart as my Grandma. We are two peas in an awesome pod. So, I know my strength has come from her. I know deep in my heart she will beat this, she will not come out unscathed, but she will be here and that is all that matters. I am my Grandmothers baby girl, all my strength came from her. If I had the ability to earn a degree while fighting a deadly disease, never showing how truly sick I was and fighting on, then my Grammy will use that same strength and fight to come home, and begin life outside of a hospital again.
Twenty-Five and I have already led two lives. Life before cancer. Life with cancer. I am filled with too much frustration over the life I deserve. But will never acquire. My fire feels like it is slowly flickering out. The loveliness of a Canadian winter is freezing my heart along with the ground. Twenty-five and I’ve had two completely different lives…These eras feel so far away from one another. Life before cancer feels dead. Almost as if it never existed.
Does that mean part of me is dead too? Is that why I can never be the same person again?
Pictures of the past show a ghost. I am not that girl anymore. In that girls place. Is the face of cancer. Fear has masked my true face. My fears take me further to the core of sickness and despair. To the land of no return. In the end—I alone brought myself here. Cancer. It is the word that is always in my head. Whispering threats, taunting me. I am afraid I am going to miss out on my life. I have a heavy heart I will be taken too soon. All I want is to stay. To be healthy. To be happy. To grow into a better person. I’m scared I am going to miss it all. Watching life run its natural course. Growing old. Watching the next generation grow up. Watch as the world advances and moves further back at the exact same time. I am afraid. Life will continue without me. My life. Will function without me. Your dreams will come true. Without me.
I am afraid of missing my life. So I covet the darkness and embrace my fear of the possibility of my demise. I try and chase away the echoing screams of my fears. Feeding these fears energy and emotion cause them to thrive. To grow strong. Persistent. I can’t chase away images. Invisible holes deep inside of me.
To silence these fears in my mind. I have to voice them. My fear is my time is short. It is time I use that fear and let it drive me to the land of the living. I cannot waste time, life is too beautiful and precious. The same amount of energy is exerted to be happy as it is to be unhappy. I need to start living. I am dying in the land of what if’s. Everyday I’ve held back is a day ill never get back. I have to go on faith. In myself. Believe. Theres nothing else left for me to do.
The mass amount of chaos surround my life is what is dragging me further down. I need to take a step back. Accept meds will make me sick for a while…then prepare for the next stage in life….
Life continues on, and brings us forward–it always does. Two-years ago on New Years Eve I remember being early into treatment, rocking my wig with zero hair underneath. For the first time in a while I felt confident and pretty. A semi-decent looking guy kept hitting on me all night, but I kept blowing him off. Finally, the drunken fool proceeds to cuss me out and pull my hair. 11:56 and I am in a full bar with my wig on the ground, with all the losers attention on me making fun of me. Of course, my group of friends were off with guys so I was solo to handle my torment.
I left the bar, and remember to this day exactly how low and insignificant I felt. Two-years later, I laugh at this. What a clown, to get dissed by a girl in a bar and proceed to pull her hair and then ridicule her? I can laugh now because people are so pathetic.
So anytime I think life is so horrible and will never get better, I remember this night. I may have weak moments, but I am an unstoppable force.
RANT DONE.
Deuces Cancer, you suck.
