Baby Steps

I've been so avoidant recently. I have this big pile of emotional garbage I need to sort through and I refuse to even go near it. I'm afraid I started this whole "healing process" too late. I rather pretend I'm fine and go about this little game called life. Is any of this really necessary?

The true answer to that annoys me.

Let's change subjects, shall we? I need to begin a project. I'm not so sure how successful I will be, but I know I need to begin. I neglect my daily needs...well, daily. I have to somehow allow myself to access the tiniest bit of creativity my mind holds. I'm stuck at home doing the most beautiful job in the world, but in the beginning of this sentence lies the problem. I'm stuck at home. Do not get me wrong, I enjoy every second (even the difficult ones) with my daughter. But my productivity needs to grow beyond feedings, changing diapers, play time, and household chores. I have all of these ideas in my head but I'm not quite sure how to go about implementing them. Truth of the matter is I doubt myself far too often and I need to just let go and go with it. I suppose we will see what happens.

Sometimes I honestly and truly believe my life would improve so much if we could fast forward time. I hate oh so much this waiting game. Alas, now is all I have. Carpe diem and all that jazz.

New blog or an updated version may be needed.

I try not to panic. I do my best to breathe and not let my thoughts consume me like they have all throughout my life. I just look at my daughter and focus. All my energy and strength needs to go to her and to my attempt to be the best mother I can to her. But my brain is weak. I feel like that's such a terrible excuse. All these things that are happening, all these feelings I'm feeling. I want to take responsibility. I want to own up to my mistakes. But how can I when I'm not even fully aware of what's going on?

I don't want to be "dealt with" or "tolerated". I want to stop being this giant burden. I don't want to chase away the one person who has never given up on me. I don't want complaints spun around and the whispers to start. I don't want to be a side show freak.

Things can't completely fall apart. It's not just my life anymore.

I'm scared.

Anniversaries

I'm not too keen on celebrating my survival. It isn't that I don't appreciate my life. I honestly do. But as a certain day passed this last week I tried not to think that they pronounced me brain dead and unrecoverable two years ago. I don't like retelling the story. Or at least the fragments I personally remember and the hospital staff testimony that had been relayed to me. I just want everything behind me. So much hurt came from my cancer. I lost too much and more than just my brain was damaged. Yes, I can count the blessings that did come forth but as usual I am just holding onto the abundance of negativity. I just want to let go.

I have so many dates in my head. I remember plenty and I like celebrating or simply reminiscing about what happened on "this day" or "that day" blah blah blah number of years ago. I'm not the one to forget something, but then again I just put too much weight into too many things. No one really cares about the things I care about. I'm simply far too sentimental.

Two years ago plenty happened. Especially in the months of August and September. That was the turning point. Moments happened that led me to this now I'm living. My world changed.

Maybe some things are worth celebrating.

Everything Changes

Life is never how you expect. It takes you by surprise constantly, and it has taken me nearly 24 years to realize that planning gets you nowhere. The best thing to do really is to simply live in the moment. Although that last statement is a work in progress, it's a truth I have stopped fighting. All we have is right now.

Change in my life is abundant. My baby girl is growing up so fast I can't stand it. The countdown on my phone gets smaller and smaller for my wedding. Sometimes I get overwhelmed and I need time to just take everything in. There are so many things I want to hold onto and freeze. Like my daughter looking up at me for the first time that morning 5 and half months ago. Or how now every time she sees me a giant gummy grin spreads across her face. I want to hold onto the moments where I'm lying in Michael's arms and he kisses my forehead and gently wraps his arms around me tighter. I had a moment earlier this week that was so simple, but it made my heart ache. My best friend sat on the couch and hugged me while my daughter played on the floor. Internally, I captured that moment in my heart but I wish so badly it was tangible. I wish I didn't have to worry about never sharing in a similar experience. I took in that single moment because that's all I could do. The future brings far too much change.

I never thought she'd move out on my birthday. I didn't expect her to be out of town when my daughter was born. I didn't think she would get married before me. And I never imagined she would be moving away. My joy for her is exponential. But as January 25th gets closer, I try harder and harder to figure out how to live without her within my reach.

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?

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.

479

It's a little past two. In four hundred and seventy nine days I'll either already be, or very very close to being a married woman. Wedding Mass is at one. Getting that email a few weeks ago from Deacon Gene stating that the church is reserved for me on a specific date and at a specific time was surreal. It still is, but it seems as with every passing second I get more and more of a foothold of a dream that has all the possibility of coming true.

Four hundred and seventy nine days is a long time from now, but it is so reachable. I daily quiet down the excitement that builds up from within me. I'm being cautious, but optimistically so. Optimism rarely enters my life but I can't help but allow it to creep in. Jury is still out on the positive ramifications of this change.

I have a hard time forming sentences lately. A difficult time placing my thoughts appropriately. All I know how to say is that despite everything, I love him. I love him this deep and indescribable type of love that is at time debilitating but at its source is life giving. He's my best friend, and a piece of me that I'm nearly positive I can't survive without.

The road I'm walking is hard, but its end of destination appeal keeps me going.