Waking up to do. Decisions to make. Boundaries to set. Status quos to challenge.

This is for anyone surviving anything because there is a certain camaraderie in the incessance of surviving. Life events that tear up all of our parts and leave us unraveled. Events that shred identities and leave us undone. Events that don’t actually have an end to them… Events that create a bond among the surviving. The relentlessness is real. Not hopeless, but very much real and OH so very heavy. Read April’s Message for more on this.

That in mind, I saw a posted question in one of my cancer social groups recently: What is different now because of your cancer? As I thought about my answer, it brought to mind the universal human experience of surviving. My answer of what’s different: Waking up. Making decisions now with a compromised self-trust. The construction of a new, needed self-preservation. And how I can’t not be changed. I wonder if you, too, no matter what you’re surviving, can relate to any of these?

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The bothand of waking up.

Surviving cancer for me is a daily grind. I’m “NED” but only in certain terms. I may have ‘no evidence of disease’ as in no active cancer cells or tumor growth present in my system but I have every bit the evidence of diagnosis, surgeries, and treatment. There is a small percentage of cancer patients that experience chronic issues with their body’s systems (immune, hormone, nervous, etc.) due to chemotherapy, radiation therapy, anesthesia meds if they’d had surgeries… Me? All of the above. And this really only speaks to the physical toll of it all. The emotional, mental, social, spiritual, and financial toll in addition, makes it so waking up is, quite literally, the hardest part of my day.

Therefore, the BothAnd. I am grateful I get to wake up because many don’t, and I know all too well not to take it for granted. It is also so very hard. I know what lies ahead of me…the pain, the long symptom list of dysfunctional systems, the required resilience whether I like it or not, the invisibility of internal illness, the challenge to be authentic but protective…The reality that there is no end in chronic.

Cancer changes the way I wake up. ‘Here we go, again,’ I think, both with a thank you and with an ugh. It’s so hard being in the tension of both misery and gratitude while also acknowledging both a painful and a purposeful existence. So, for those of you feeling this same tension, for those of you similarly feeling like waking up is both wonderful and awful, I see you.

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The mess of self-trust.

The power of choice is amazing. It is also treacherous because 1. every decision has strings attached…some have few, some have many, and some have many on the many. 2. Decisions also carry stakes, they are risky… Additionally, 3. it is rare that we get literal do-overs, therefore, 4. at best we are left to infer the application of learned lessons on future decisions, and 5. even in the sort-of-second-try, we still tend not to get it quite right. Why? Because it’s only in hindsight that the view is perfect and we see exactly that which we should have done. Throw in crisis. The fight or flight response. The dysregulation of our brain where the primitive brain clicks into survival mode and the more [air quotes for effect] developed prefrontal cortex of logic, reason, and emotional clarity, turns mostly dormant. Lovely.

The decisions forced upon me in cancer have been dreadfully harrowing. Literally,
To poison or not to poison.
To radiate or not to radiate.
To amputate or not to amputate.
If I choose yes to these things, I risk living the rest of my life surviving with the astronomical costs. If I choose no, I risk DYING. Talk about high stakes.

As for confusing strings… well,
Should I choose life, I’m selfless. Should I choose death, I’m selfish. (Though this probably could go both ways.)
Should I fight, I’m strong. Should I let go, I’m weak. (Probably another vice versa kinda thing.)
Should I risk surviving, I’m brave. Should I risk death, I’m foolish. (Or is this the other way around?)
And when it all shakes out in hindsight, did I even choose right? Because was I even in my right state of mind when choosing in the first place?

If I were to get a do over, god help me, that means cancer came back. (Though, yet another complication, some decisions have permanent consequences, so some do-overs don’t even exist….like amputation, for example. There’s no putting it back.)
But if cancer doesn’t come back, I better live it up since I was gifted a second chance and I should not squander it. (Survivor’s guilt is suuuuuuper messy.)

Cancer changes the way that I choose. It changes the way that I trust myself in my choosings. It’s been said we make upward of 35,000 decisions a day. Yes, that was three 0’s. In a DAY. So, for those of you with compromised self-trust due to decisions that may or may not have gone “right,” I am right there with you.

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Constructing the preservation of self.

Never have I been faced with my own Self more than I am in cancer. The other traumas of my life have caused introspection on some level also, but being hit by a tanker going 70, 10 days prior to my cancer diagnosis, and e v e r y t h i n g since that day….welp, there is something powerfully transformative about seeing your life literally flash before your eyes.

I’m learning how it’s necessary to be selfish.
I’m learning how to consider my new health, wellness, and physical limitations.
I’m learning to say ‘no.’
I’m learning what to invest my time in.
I’m learning who in my life are energy givers and who are energy takers and I’m learning to choose wisely.
I’m learning what matters and what doesn’t, really.
I’m learning to ask questions that I never did before.
I’m learning that I deserve to be, just as I am.
I’m learning what priorities really are, not what others tell me they should be. On that, I’m learning where shoulds, woulds, and coulds can stick it.
I’m learning I don’t fit in.
I’m learning I don’t have to fit in.
I’m learning how to preserve myself so that I can wake up every day and make decisions and do it all authentically. I’m learning all about REAL authenticity, too.
I’m learning that sometimes I get it all wrong.
Which means I’m learning what it is to keep trying.

Cancer changes the way that I see myself. Some of it translates to me feeling powerfully purposeful and some of it translates to me feeling easily expendable. Some days I’m insecure and some, I’m confident. Every day I feel the weight of surviving. So, for those of you seeing yourself completely different, not knowing where exactly you fit, holding similar weight, I am there, too.

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The way surviving inherently challenges the status quo.

I have always been one to speak up, to ask questions, to be mindful, to feel and appreciate emotions, to be a challenger of the obvious or the easy, to read between the lines. These are identities that make me, me. They are constants despite the changes. They are anchors when everything seems chaotic. But cancer…. It changes me. 

Now:
I speak up louder—there is a confidence that only comes from dining with death. I’m tactful still, but much bolder. 
I ask bigger questions—the ones that have more uncomfortable answers. And I don’t feel the need to rescue the answerer from their discomfort by backing down from my questions. 
I am more mindful—I protect my energy and who and what gets it because I don’t have that much to give…and even though it makes some people mad, I’m learning to challenge the people pleaser in me. I’m more attuned to the narcissists and the manipulators and gaslighters. And what’s more, I am very intentional of who gets my trust. 
I feel deeper and bigger and more intensely—and unapologetically so, even when my big feelings make others squirmy. I believe in this because I’m learning that the deeper my capacity for emotion, the deeper goes my authenticity, empathy, and compassion. 
I relentlessly challenge the status quo and I insistently confront platitudes—there is this thing that happens in surviving…the scales come off, the laziness of cliché is exposed, the meanings of things morph into more enlightened truths. In other words, I don’t buy the easy. The things that matter are things that take effort…and effort seems to be a lost art.

So, for those of you feeling like your surviving has opened your eyes, has created identity shifts, has you feeling redesigned, and has forced the learning of a changed You, I sooooo know the feeling.

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May’s Message

There was a time that I tricked myself into thinking that Everything Makes Sense and Have It All Together and Conclusions were the places where I really wanted to be. And OH! what I sacrificed in that striving.

👉🏼 Now, I’m learning that Surviving is one of the most genuine and authentic places to live. And in my opinion, one of the healthiest. Of course, while healthier and realer, I didn’t say it was **easier**. Because nope. Definitely NOT easier.

👉🏼 Now, I’m understanding far more in Unravel than I ever did in Everything Makes Sense.

👉🏼 Now, I am gaining fuller insights in Undone than I ever did in Have It All Together.

👉🏼 Now, I am deepening my fortitude, resilience, humanness, and capacity for the things that matter in Present than I ever did in the tidied up The End.

So, from one who is surviving to another, I hope that you feel seen, understood, encouraged, and free to explore the same. And as hard as it is to do, keep waking up, keep showing up, and definitely keep trying. 

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Thanks for reading…this was a long one! I appreciate you. See you next month! 💛

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