1. I got a counselor and that seems to have worked for the past two years to help heal some open wounds. The internet doesn't do much counseling.
2. I needed to escape my problems of concerns for the future. There is nothing more distracting than a toddler and the demands of the everyday.
3. Posting to the internet is like yelling in a cave only to hear your voice echo. After a while, the loneliness is overwhelming and one has to examine WHY they are so lonely.
4. Life shouldn't be a story. I think we are all so wrapped up in stories. Hearing a story means you connect but I question "does it really?" What if I met a person in a park with my open heart on my sleeve and gave a hug or a smile without a smile? What if I helped a person truly in need? Well, I was that person in need when my Grace was just a babe. People reached out to me and touched me. They didn't tell me their stories. They didn't say they even wanted to hear mine, even though I was so eager to share. Yet they saw me through and through. If you are open in heart and mind, this doesn't scare you off but instead fills you up. Scared is what I often was. I was like a brick and mortar walled citadel. Remove the story and remove the people. Remove the identity and that removes the fear. Then a story can't hurt you.
5. Cancer is always going to be there. There are lulls in between the highs and lows where it is just... good. No need to dwell in tomorrow or dwell upon yesterday. I have learned to be very present.
So why am I writing today? I've found thoughts bubbling to the surface. I put emotions too big to battle into little shoe boxes that I carefully shelved away. Some people think suppressing feelings is wrong or bad. That's not true and not necessary. We put things away so that their power over us is diminished. Maybe the dragon awaiting me in that shoe box will have transformed into a less dangerous snake or even a bunny. My new perspectives have enlightened me.
Cancer. Like all the terrible crap in the world, fuck cancer. I don't feel guilt today for the gift we were blessed with our miracle pain-free survival of our baby girl. But that's just today. It's always there. Never leaves. Sometimes I feel ok, sometimes I feel happy, sometimes resentful. More often than not I feel blessed and grateful for her Cancer.
How can I hate something that shaped me so much? Do I even really hate it?
Look at that face. When I see it, my heart aches and feels so full and empty at the same time. Would I take a kid with cancer versus no kid/healthy kid? Yes, actually. Because God gave me just as much as I can handle. I can almost just barely handle this. My heart, it is ten times bigger both from loving and from the terrible aching.