hiding

I think I’ve been hiding. Well not really hiding but maybe licking my wounds so to speak. Reflecting. And not aloud. Trying to get my head around last year. As in, what the fuck was that? Building strength and in particular replenishing those inner reserves so I can keep on keeping on. I realised in January there were just none left. In fact I never even realised it. B did. And my friends. Who wanted to know where I had gone. And not only physically. But my presence had gone quiet. And they were worried about me. Its well documented how consciously fighting, dealing with your reality, treating it, makes you feel like you are doing something positive. Something conscious. Something noble to help yourself heal. And unconscious too, by being present in the everyday and just willing your best self to show up at each and every shitty little moment. And sharing with you all, made sure the best person was there, with the presence of you. Truth be told, I wasn’t worried about me, in fact I was that caught up in my inner being, I never even realised how far in I had gone. I think its called regrouping. So, its been a year and a month since my life as I knew it turned out to be a big fat lie.  Well part of it. And I hate lies.  Despite my thinking otherwise I’m only now truly accepting of it all.  Not of the lie, but of the big beautiful truth. The truth of how blessed we all are. How blessed I am. How life is about suffering and illness and beauty and ugliness and lies and truth and fucked up ness and exquisiteness and what makes us unique is not how fabulous our lives are but how we don’t let the fabulousness or lack thereof define us but rather teach us, and help us find a new way of being. That isn’t rooted in ignorance, because as much as we think it is, ignorance ain’t bliss. We are all scared to know because then we can’t hide. I knew I couldn’t be guaranteed of being cancer free, but I chose to believe I was, to hold onto the words I wanted to hold onto, whilst deep down I knew this would always be my story. And whilst I said it, I never accepted it. So, now I really do know, and I’m living my life knowingly.  Accepting that life and it’s difficulties are not battles to be won or lost because how then do we excuse ourselves if we lose no matter how hard we fought? Did we not fight hard enough? Were we not worthy of surviving? Bull crap. We are all worthy, we all just have a different story. And mine is no worse or better than yours, its just mine.  And I’m going to live it the best way I can, because only I can. Fuck cancer, fuck everything that is shit in the world, and the best way to do it is to reframe it into our own unique stories that make us grow up and be grateful for every little moment. I hate the always positive shite as you know, I think I’m too much of a realist, although sometimes I don’t want to hear sad stories, because it breaks me inside a little more each time. And no, its not called denial its called acceptance. Stuff exists I can’t fix. Stuff exists I abhor. Platitudes piss me off. But truth and love and being present. Being honest. Being there. Just showing up and sharing the suckiness that life is sometimes, is what matters. It really just is what it is.

So, what is my current reality? I remain NED. I see my oncologist and my cancer surgeon every three months interchangeably. I’m still not mad about her but hey she’s good. I continue on my meds for the foreseeable future. I have surgery ahead of me to remove my right breast in totality. I need to schedule that because as with anything we are the ones who decide. No one else. And I will do it. I’m just liking being me for a bit. Stuff will be dealt with. And that’s so not hiding.

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