I used to think that there was nothing worse than dying of cancer…
After five+ years (and fast approaching almost six years) I have found that there is…
Cancer drastically changes your outlook on life and affects every aspect of your living experience. I think it must be the mortality issues it drags along with it – as if you don’t have enough to deal with…
Cancer… for me… has led to the absolute destruction of my creative confidence….
Nothing is worse than actually fearing EVERYTHING! Second guessing – mind games and then succumbing to reality that why bother cos none of this matters in the end… anyway???
I am convinced that I have PTSD. Other times I think I am just depressed – as in SAD… No! I am not suicidal thank you very much! I already have something waiting to kill me!
I do not want to stop living, on the contrary, I want to live and love and thrive! I don’t feel worthless or unworthy… I do however feel sad and afraid.
Afraid of everything… everything…
On bad days I sit and stare into space. A Writer who can’t write. A Photographer who can’t take a photograph. A Filmmaker that can’t make a film. Somedays I can’t even express myself and just nonsense (interspersed with expletives) pours out of my mouth!
It’s not that I don’t want to… I really want to but feel I just CAN’T – I feel incapable… And even if I try my mind tells me ‘This is Shit!’ I am often stumped by this behaviour – its destructive – self annihilating! Who is this person? Has my life come to this? How???
I look in the mirror and don’t recognise the person staring back at me. The physical changes of my body is a battle by itself but something I am learning to cope with. It’s terrible realising that you are aging and then ontop of that you realise that chemo has added another ten years of fat and wrinkles *crying face* to your physical being.
I often talk about the aging process with my husband. It usually starts with a look in the mirror after a shower and then escalates dramatically to going to Ma’ruf and saying: “Why the F#@$ has my underarms become so flabby (while flapping arms frantically back and forth) I have grown wings!”… Then proceeds to poke at inner thighs – “Look here man! What the hell is this Shit? Jelly wobble… Gross shaking inner thighs are going to kill me!” But best and worst of all… “Why is my Boob UNDER MY ARM?” That’s right – you heard me – “UNDER MY ARM!?!” – the HORROR!
It’s okay I tell myself. I research how to ‘unflab your body after 40’ and Google thankfully eases my already crumbling grip on reality by offering a myriad of solutions – quick ones and hard ones! So helpful! Apparently my wobbly problems are exacerbated by Running! Running makes me fat and jiggly because I am no longer considered a young person who tones up from cardio exercise! I have to weight train to build muscle – otherwise I must just succumb to being a loose skinned old person who insists on running!
*Laugh Out Very Very Loud*
But at least I understand that I will have to pick up heavy things such as weights, kettlebells and sandbags in the gym. So there is a remedy. A way to tone up my junk! I am very hopeful and excited about this new challenge.
I am however still lost on the ‘everything I do is Shit’ dilemma. The psychological effects are something else entirely and it’s not so easy to shove it aside and laugh it off. It’s a daily struggle and something I have to deal with every minute of the day. When I am inconsolable, I remind myself of what my closest friend once told me: ‘You are your own worst enemy… All you need is a little kindness… Be kind to yourself!’
I guess we could all do with just a little kindness because having courage is utterly exhausting.