Wednesday, April 10, 2019

Living A Life, Sort of...

Yesterday I went for my 6 month check-up, and yes everything went well.  I know that may not be as full of excitement as it should be, I am extremely grateful.  But I also realized something, something I'm not sure how to really explain or how to repair.

I realized as I sat there with my husband and my oncologist, I was wasting my time.  My life and the precious gift that has been given to me.  I have completely wasted 8 years.  Not because good things didn't happen in those eight years, but because I didn't choose to live.  I didn't choose to do anything during those eight years.  I mean I was ridiculously busy. I was busy trying to be a "good" mom.  I was busy trying to forget I had cancer.  I was busy trying to not be defined by my cancer.  I was busy being really angry.  I was busy being mad at my husband for finding an outlet to all of this aftermath and leaving me behind.  I was busy trying to be a good wife (because it was really selfish of me to be angry with him).  I was busy trying to find a new direction, a new me - which really sucks because I liked who I used to be and well I don't even know who I am so much, still.  I thought for sure by now I would have just really found a new groove. Not so much! I hate that.  I could keep going here and in my head I did, but it all seems the same - me lamenting over what used to be and just isn't. Wanting to blame someone, make them to be held responsible and fix this mess. 

But there is no one to blame, not even myself. The Lord and I are the only ones who can fix this.  I just don't really know how.  I have started things, I have served, I have pushed myself beyond my own strength.  And yet I am still over here floundering, wondering what I am not getting right.  And why everything, absolutely everything, must be so damn hard. I know it sounds like I feel pretty sorry for myself - sometimes I think if I actually would have allowed myself to feel sorry for myself and embrace that feeling, I would have perhaps been kinder to myself and healed better.  But I am not wired to feel sorry for myself so I pushed and pushed, and worked - I worked so hard.  Now I just feel exhausted.  Busy trying to live and somehow not...because most of all I realize I was busy being afraid.

Afraid.  I know what I'm afraid of...AND IT's A LOT OF STUFF.  "Holy crap, seriously!" - this is what I think to myself.  When did I become the person who's head will just not shut up.  There are so many voices in my head! Yes I am still sane - I just remember and contemplate way too many things.  I was never fearless, I had a good since of safety zones, but I wasn't afraid.  I wanted to experience life in all it's glory.  I wanted to push myself, try new things. I wanted my little family to just go and experience all we could...I knew it wouldn't all be picture perfect but I didn't think about it that much, I just trusted and had faith it would all work out. AND it did.  God where did that woman go?  I miss her! I miss her so much.

I haven't lost my faith, but I have let fear rule me.  I big part of me feels like I've lost my way because of all the voices - the things people tell me, some good and all with love and concern for me.  But it has been really hard to hear my own voice.  My inner voice - which is a good voice.  It knows what I need.  It loves me.  I feel it more now than I hear it.  But I want to hear it and I want to stop being afraid.


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