Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Process

Sometimes I feel like my life slipped through my fingers. I used to be so focused, and I had this incredible willpower and drive. I was capable of everything and anything. Then I got sick. It first began my junior year of high school, but I pushed through that. I graduated early, and although a nasty tumor squashed my Air Force dreams, I dove into excellence elsewhere. College was easy, and I began volunteering in youth ministry, and at the hospital all while working full time. Strangely my work load was not stressful. It simply fueled me. I had a goal and I wasn't going to let it go.

Halloween 2010 I passed out in the middle of ringing a member up. Luckily my supervisor caught me and prevented me from slamming my head into the hard warehouse floor of Sam's Club. I seized and was rushed to the emergency room. My nightmare was soon to follow.

Cancer diagnosis isn't easy. Battling it is harder. Surviving seems impossible, even when you have already done it. Maybe it's just me but I still feel "sick". As if there is still this life threatening disease eating away at my brain and most importantly, my soul. Perhaps it's the fact that there are still tumors inside. Or maybe even after hearing those words of "remission" and "cancer free" the idea that at every check up I can get different news is too daunting. Regardless I feel trapped in this bubble that I can't pop.

I feel fragile. In more areas than one. Breathe on me too hard and I'll break. That strong girl I used to be is damaged, scared, and too often weak. I'm still trying to find my footing, and a group of people I can truly depend on. Mostly though, I'm still trying to find me again.

Maybe that's silly. In reality, I died. I need to stop trying to become who I was, but instead focus on who I now am, and who I want to be. My only identity that I can hold onto firmly is my motherhood. It's in that where I live. But there is too much more of me that needs to breathe.

Shouldn't I have healed by now?

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Sleepless

I don't get much sleep.  Even when my daughter manages to fall asleep at a decent time I still find myself wide awake.  It isn't that I'm not tired.  On the contrary,  I'm tired all the time. Those pesky voices in my head though keep me up,  just gnawing at me.

I feel like I'm two people sometimes. Perhaps more.  I'm in this constant war of the person I'm being and the person I want to be.  Never could I have pictured myself to be here,  and to have this particular life with the specific struggles that I have.  Funny how life turns out, and how easily the battle with sin is lost. Despite what seems to be my constant proof of the living truth tattooed on my wrist, I find myself to be constantly on my knees praising God for His blessings. It is inconceivable the amount of happiness I find in my daughter's face. It is for her that I have survived so much, and it is through her that I still do.

Many of my hopes and dreams I have abandoned. Or at the very least have put on hold.  The ache in my heart for what I miss most I make sure to quiet, but sometimes the screams are far too loud. What was once so close within my reach seems so far away.  Time will only tell what the future will bring.

Change has come forth quickly, and I have adapted accordingly. Yet even so there are things I'm not sure how to fully accept, and don't know how to get around them.

No man is an island, nor should one try to be.