I’m biting my nails again. Something must be up. I stopped biting my nails a long time ago, but recently started again. I guess I have a lot on my mind. I’m cancer free, but I feel like I am in limbo. I used to have my own business, now I am back to the drawing board and starting over. I hated that stage, and I hate being there now. I dislike the uncertainty of not knowing where, how, and when my next check is coming in. I also feel alone sometimes, dealing with the after effects of treatment, and I am definitely not the same person as when I started.
I read about how other survivors say that post-treatment is sometimes harder. While you’re in treatment, you have a lot of people stopping by, wishing you well, sending you messages or gifts. You have a schedule of doctors appointments and treatments. You have your army beside you. Once you start getting better, everything tapers off. It’s like the end of the party. You’re standing there amongst the deflated balloons, ribbons half falling down the ceiling and confetti on the floor, waving your little flag with your tiara on your head, with that survivor button on your shirt sending a pulsating little blue light. Blip, blip, blip. Party’s over.
So what’s next? Some of us go back to our daily lives and try to forget about the whole ordeal. Others of us have completely changed and try and rationalize why they got sick. Still others grab life by the horns and say, dammit, I’m done with being a victim, I’m completely rehabbing my life! I’m in the latter group. I am NOT a victim. I am gung-ho about doing all of the things I have wanted to do, forgiving people, especially myself, and letting go. Moving forward. But, in the still hours, the quiet hours of the night and day, I wonder. I grieve. I doubt, even though I know I shouldn’t. We all ask, why did this happen to me? It’s that nagging little question that sometimes pervades itself into the positive goals and actions I am trying to achieve. I want to scream at myself SHUT UP, but I treat myself a lot better these days. Instead, I am listening to her. That quiet side of myself.
That quiet side says, I’m scared. I don’t want this to happen again. I want to be prepared just in case. I miss my old self. I hate that any little thing gets me crying, when I used to be stronger and hold my emotions in. I can’t stand the ringing in my ears, or the tingling in my feet and hands. I wish I was ticklish again. I wish I was whole. I hear you. I hear you. I give myself a hug. Then I respond, God didn’t keep me alive to let me suffer. I am here for a purpose. I can’t take away those things, but I can focus on what makes my life better post-cancer. I can focus on my WHY.
I love myself, plain and simple. I won’t treat myself disrespectfully. I believe in my mission. I believe that what I am trying to achieve can help change someone’s life. I just need someone to believe in me again, which will lead to someone else believing in me, etc. It’s as if I’m standing over there in the empty party room with the blinking light waving my flag to an empty room. Swish, swish, yeehaw.
I’ve had enough of that. I’m sending out more invites. Come on over to my party. It’s a little different now. I’m not sick. I want to celebrate and I want to thank you. I want to show you what I discovered…that it really is true what so very many people say. I’m a walking miracle. This dream of mine is bigger than anything I’ve ever attempted at doing before – combining my law practice with my financial practice and my wellness company. It’s amazing and scary at the same time. But, I know it can help a lot of people in a lot of ways. What I’m doing can save someone’s life.
The quiet side of me feels better now. I put up with all of the aftermath because I am strong. Because I believe. I won’t give up because I haven’t tried all of the possibilities yet.
Give me a chance. Come on, let’s dance, the DJ is playing my favorite song.