Crazy Times

"The Challenge of Crazy Times is to Not be Made Crazy by Them."-Ryan Holiday

I've said this to numerous people lately, but the month of December felt to me like it was an entire year. I wish I was just referring to the typical hustle and bustle of the holiday season, but for me it went much deeper, unfortunately. December brings the cancerversary of my initial cancer diagnosis. This year marked year seven since hearing the words "You have breast cancer". This cancerversary brings up so many reminders, or triggers if I'm being honest, of first thinking about what it would mean for my kids to grow up without me. My family to go on living without me. Experiencing for the first time that black pit of despair that seems metaphorical in nature, but it is in fact a place that exists and takes so much work pulling yourself out of, as well as, mortality sucking the life out of me because what was once something that seemed to be way far out on the horizon, became front and center. December also happens to be the cancerversary of my Metastatic Breast Cancer diagnosis, just three years ago. As some of you may recall from my last post, after having no evidence of disease for two and a half years, this fall brought cancer back to the forefront as I had another recurrence. I completed radiation, started a new oral chemo and as I showed up for my December scan I felt like things should be back to working in my favor! Well, needless to say, I was completely shocked and saddened to hear that there is still cancer in my body that needs to be targeted. What I remember most about that day were the tears, questioning the potential of my survivorship, the feeling that I disappointed everyone (like this is all my fault) and utter hopelessness. My world imploded a little that day, but in true 'me' fashion, eventually I picked myself back up, reframed about a million thoughts that were trying to take me down and I just continue to keep moving forward one step, one day, one moment, at a time. Crazy, fucking times.

I showed up for my monthly oncology appointment (one full month since the last appointment) recently feeling stronger, a little more confident with having survived the past month and much more hopeful that this new plan (another new chemo) is what I need to kick this shit to the curb once again. I won't bore you with the details of how the treatment makes me feel or what it was like going to hell and back these past 30+ days, because that's not what I really want to focus on. What I want to emphasize, are some of the moments I've experienced that have helped me to feel capable and worthy of another chance of beating this and well, living. When you're constantly feeling beat down, I think it's normal to feel incapable of getting back up. That was me. Enough was/is enough. How the hell do I rise up yet AGAIN? I wouldn't wish this on anyone. The constant intrusive thoughts of fear, hopelessness anger, sadness.... I'm still working on understanding it all, but I am completely awake and sobered by the fact that there are glimmers appearing for the sole purpose of guiding me to believe in myself once again.

Mere days after receiving my scan results, I went back to my roots and went to one of my support groups. I met a beautiful survivor who had success treating her cancer the same way that I'm now treating mine. This is Hope. A few days after that, I had a friend tell me after I shared my news that I can grieve and feel what I was feeling as long as I needed to, but I had to promise to rise up and fight. Not to give up even though exhaustion was written all over my face. This is Grace. At Christmas Mass I saw my second grade teacher who was also my confirmation sponsor and life long friend. I haven't seen her in years. She told me I am one of her "pocket people". Those rare people that you love so much that you wish you could carry them around in your pocket with you everywhere you go. This is Unconditional love. My oncologist walked into our visit this month holding a copy of a book that I gifted him on the first day we met, seven years ago! I presented him with the book The Obstacle is the Way, by Ryan Holiday. I explained to him that this book, this message of turning trials into triumph and flipping obstacles into opportunity is how I wish for us to fight my cancer. I felt then and am still amazed now at how bold I was at this declaration all those years ago, but it was my strength and mindset that I knew would carry me through all of the shit I had to endure. Him reminding me of who I am and how I embrace struggle is just what I needed to feel stronger than that which is trying to take me down. This is strength and teamwork. I continue to show up for my children's hockey games, wrestling meets, basketball games and I even experienced taking my beautiful daughter prom dress shopping. This is Purpose. I revisited old journal entries and photo albums which remind me that I'm so much more than this illness. I have had and will continue to strive for great achievements that far outweigh the constant feelings of brokenness that I endure. I'm still capable of the high expectations I establish for myself and the world around me. This is Fortitude.

I will continue to keep my eyes open for the glimmers that remind me that I'm staying true to my course. The constant distractions that are these crazy times, in my cancer world and just world in general, will not sway me from living each day to whatever my fullest may look like in the moment and strive to not let cancer define me. My trauma did not make me stronger. I was, I am and I always will be the force that is defined by my willingness to survive turbulent times with more grace, love, strength, purpose and fortitude than even I can fathom. Keep on Killing It my friends and please show up for yourselves and each other in these crazy times.

Much Love-

M 👼

"Eventually, I learned to question if I might have been entrusted with a body and circumstance capable of wearing down my roughest edges to reveal a clearer, wiser heart-a heart made rich by the willingness to consciously meet the details of embodied life, as suffocating as they often felt, and rest naked in my love and my grief. I questioned if I could trust in my own resilience and fortitude, regardless of the state of my body or circumstances, and even find an appreciation for life that was unfamiliar when things were going to plan. Just as a diamond is built after being subjected to incredible pressure, life threatening circumstances provide us the opportunity-perhaps even the mandate-to bring our own creative intelligence to bear within the arc of our personal and relational evolution." -Teri A. Dillion (No Pressure, No Diamonds).

For Dad

Like a Rolling Stone, by Bob Dylan

https://youtu.be/a6Kv0vF41Bc?si=WhFJii9ZelqKZQmt