Surviving Cancer

I look in the mirror
What do I want to see?
I want to see my old self
The me I recognize
Staring back at me

Instead, I see a stranger
Somebody I don't even know
I'm in the same skin
But my old self won't show

I have countless scars
Scars on my skin
Scars you can't see
The scars from within

I have fake parts
And real parts, too
I'm a mishmash of stuff
Me, but brand new

I'm different in more ways
More than just the one
I'm different on the inside too
I feel so unraveled, so undone

I'm lost and I'm drowning
All at the same time
I breath so heavily
Like I'm on an uphill climb

This new me is a stranger
One I must greet
The two of us together
Will make us complete

I am me
But I am a stranger too
Two for the price of one
I know what I must do

I must welcome this stranger
With an open heart
The two of us are bonded now
Never to come apart

Writing poems for me is such a release. I can truly express how I am feeling and get my words out so perfectly without even trying. This poem, that I just wrote, is a true testament to what I am going through. I see little glimpses of my old self, but there is also a brand new person emerging. Sometimes, I really don’t like this new me. I’ve become explosive and moody. Obviously, my husband takes the brunt of these new characteristics. I don’t even think when I just go off on a tangent, an unprovoked tangent, usually.

The other night, we were trying to finish a movie that we had started the night before. The only problem was that the kids were still awake, and well, they were being kids. They were being loud and needy, and Josh simply stated that maybe we should turn it off and watch it later when the kids were in bed. I went off. I literally don’t even know where ReNita went, and who this crazy person was, that exploded, over having to turn the movie off. It was one of those situations where I can not explain why, but I attribute it to this new stranger within me.

Slowly, but surely, I will learn how this stranger operates and hopefully learn to control her. This is not the person I want to be. Women aren’t really meant to live without hormones, so me being without them now, has brought on a whole new challenge. Learning to control this stranger within me, and hold on to what little pieces of ReNita there is left. I want to be that wife, that woman, that Josh married. I want to be that mother, that comforter and nurturer that my children need. It’ll take time, but I will eventually be whole again. Not these two separate beings that can’t figure out which way is up.