Follow by Email

Monday, September 22, 2014

It's not you, it's me

Well it's time. It's done. We had it great's really just time to see other people. This blog has been a source of sanity for me during the darkest moments of my life. I am grateful for the ability to live out loud and explore some parts of my brain that really should just be left for science. I used it to escape, to cope, to share and to motivate myself to get out of the darkness...but I'm out and it's all sparkly and shiny again. When I look back over my life - yeah it's going in the book, I don't really see survival. I don't want my legacy to be simply survival. I lived strong and well and endured some bullshit like any of us. Cancer? Well hell. I am not a breast cancer "survivor" - just the term gives me chest pains; pardon the pun. When I think of surviving, I think of grabbing a branch over a raging river and clinging for life with a helicopter flying overhead and young Navy Seals dropping in on a line and the news circling near by, storms coming in...but I digress. I didn't cling to anything. I endured, I scrapped, I fought, I begged and reasoned and sobbed and in the end, I burned it, poisoned it and cut it out. And if it comes back, I will beat it again. There was no dangling over the river, I went right through the middle. Cancer survived me and that's my legacy. I am considerably different than I was before. You will never hear me say Cancer was a gift but it was a game changer. There is really nothing I can't do. Once you have delivered babies you aren't bringing home, there really isn't anything else - not even Cancer that can top that so maybe I started with my gloves on. Nowadays, I'm a little less sensitive, maybe some more emotional scar tissue, maybe I'm a little less patient for bullshit and a lot more capable of letting the toxicity go...I watched my older girls grow up faster than they should have but I fell more in love with my husband than I thought I ever could. I still mourn the breasts but find the ability to work out without a bra liberating. I put a hat on my head and break out into a PTSD cold sweat but love my softer red hair that grew back in. I hate fitting into bathing suits with high necks but love being healthy enough to run on the beach. I hate feeling unsexy to my husband but love feeling more loved than the day I married him. I hate that Cancer makes my little girl cry but love that she has me to hold. I hate the memories of being sick but I love the sisters I gained who put their own lives second to help a busy mom cope with the hardest three years of her the time, they barely knew me; now, they are my best friends. The pain list is long but the gain list is longer. Guess what Cancer? I beat you again. So thank you...thank you for reading, for letting me grieve and grow and live. Thank you for the posts that I read and reread and reread. It's been four years and I am done. I'm not living post Cancer, I'm living without Cancer and it's time to do that.