"If I started out as this celestial being, just energy, and the universe or God or whomever said, "Hey, do you want to go to earth for an incredibly short amount of time, like a blip, and experience every emotion that you could possibly feel as a human...you get to have all these experiences love, heartache, anxiety, joy, euphoria, whatever, all of it. Do you want to do that?" Yeah, I do. And so when I am feeling these intense feelings, it's sort of like a reality check to step outside and say, although this is a very uncomfortable, painful feeling, it's quite beautiful that I have the capacity to experience it. That is sort of something I use to ground myself when I am stuck in a feeling of darkness. -Lili Reinhart
"A feeling of darkness"...yeah, I know that one well. I bring you this post right from the heart of things, scan day. To be clear, I see the light, I feel the light around me, but when I was asked today how I'm feeling about it all, my response was that it's just this heavy, dark feeling that I've had to learn how to deal with. When you are living and surviving with what I'm living with and surviving from, you do the work each and every single day to not let the dark and the dread pull you under. That doesn't mean it isn't there, it just means you learn how to move forward despite it. If I'm being real, I almost daily have to figure out how to basically block it from my direct line of view. This cancer experience of mine has most definitely NOT been a sprint. For me, it's a marathon that I still haven't finished and I often grow tired of. But I mean, there's no stopping before the glory, right? If all of my half marathons taught me anything, it's that you just keep fucking going. I stepped away from my blog in December because that month for me is pretty emotionally charged. I honored my five year cancerversary on December 12th. I also relived the labs and subsequent scan gone wrong, the biopsy of my spine the day before Christmas and my long awaited reconstructive surgery the day before New Year's all just one year ago. Here I am today, processing that exactly one year ago, January 6th, I received my official Stage 4, Metastatic Breast Cancer Diagnosis. It was a lot to digest then, and I'm still adjusting and figuring things out now. It was suggested to me that perhaps having scans on the same day this year as my MBC diagnosis last year means I've come full circle?! My hope is that I will have another clear scan today after the last three good ones and I can say I weathered that horrific storm that started a whole year ago today. I so hope that is the case for me and I so hope I can celebrate how hard I have fought not only this last year, but for the last five. I've learned not to get too confident, but also not to lose faith completely. To some of you that might not sound like the positive affirmation I should be living with in this moment, but for me and many other survivors, that's called protecting oneself and well, survival.
The winter solstice that occurred in December was an opportunity for me to once again bathe in the light while actually physically existing totally in the dark. I enjoy lighting the way for others and always reminding myself that no matter what, I can (we can) and will find beauty in what I often perceive as haunting. Again this year, I placed luminaries out for me and for mom and the other residents at her nursing home. The flickering light brings me much tranquility and makes me feel connected to something much more powerful than myself. Ironically, a snowstorm made the process of setting out the luminaries a little tricky, but also magical. I wrote these words in my journal that night and I'm only sharing them now because I've been carrying a lot of grief for quite some time for both me and for mom. However, even in that grief, as debilitating as it sometimes is, I see beauty and I see opportunity. I hope you can, too.
12-21-22
Dear Mommy,
On this blustery winter solstice, where they say the light is coming...I vow to be my own light and yours, too. I will set into motion the things I've been afraid to. This is my time for both of us to heal, to dream and to be who I want to be. Forward motion, no longer standing still. I love you, mom. You give me great strength.
So, I'm going to go shopping now. haha...it's what I do while I wait for my results and also how I ground. Yes, Dad...it's necessary!! I will update this post with my scan results once I have them. But the reality is, the results are just one small part of this day. Yes, I'm nervous, scared, anxious, pissed, grateful, hopeful and about a million other emotions, but I'm also very happy to have the capacity to feel it all and still be along for the ride. No matter what twist, turn or hopefully moment of ease that might be coming up next, this is me (and you), Killing It on this Friday. Much love now and forever-M
Brighter Days by Blessing Offor
Thank you everyone for your incredible support! I write unsure if anyone will ever see it & you all blow me away. Thank you!!! CLEAR SCANS TODAY! Yay!! I'm so happy & relieved. We are staying the course with daily chemo, monthly infusions & ongoing bloodwork/scans. I'm very grateful for my amazing medical team. Time to celebrate! Nolan bought a cookie cake, haha! Love you all!