Surviving Cancer

Alone I sit
Day after day
Others surround me
Come as they may
Yet, I feel invisible
A fly on the wall
Strange looking in
Feeling so small
A mask or facade
Stripping it away
I appear in the flesh
Live another day
Exposed and weary
Looking for light
Bright days ahead
Finding only night

I have always been commended for being so transparent about my life and my cancer journey. The truth is, the transparency you read in my blogs isn’t the whole story. I often leave out a lot of nitty-gritty details that might be construed as TMI (too much information). I’m done maintaining the idea that I am doing well. Life after cancer is hard. Harder than you could ever imagine. Until you have personally been through something that rips you of your dignity, your health, and your way of life, you could never understand.

At what point, when you are treading water, do you throw in the towel and just let the water overtake you? How long can one live in a constant state of survival? I’m going on 7 years and – I. AM. TIRED.

I run myself into the ground trying to maintain this facade. I am not ok. Every single part of life was uprooted, ripped from the ground, and scattered about. I work less than 16 hours a week, but it sure feels like 40. No amount of sleep is ever enough. Most mornings, I wake feeling just as tired as when I went to sleep. I NEVER feel rested. I rely on caffeine to get me through a day.

Even more so than the physical fatigue, my mental health is taking constant hits. It is a daily battle just to get to work, care for my kids, clean the house, or, in simple terms, be a functioning adult, wife, and parent. I do have moments of clarity and peace, but real life quickly comes rushing back in to remind me that I am still drowning.

My income is minimal, and I am dependent on receiving disability payments every month just to maintain a poverty-level household. I am 35 years old, and have considered moving back in with my parents more times than I’d care to share. I don’t know how much longer we can continue living in a home we can barely afford. I don’t know how much longer it will be before our older, paid-off vehicles break down or need necessary repairs that we can’t afford. I don’t know how much longer I can keep putting on a smile and telling people I am doing well. Yes, my cancer is in remission, but looking well but not feeling well will eventually break me.

Some days I feel as though I could take on anything that is thrown at me. Other days, my sadness, my anxieties, and all of my other demons take hold of me, and I struggle to find the light. Once again, I feel as though I am lost in my own life.

Remember, just because someone looks well and says they are well, doesn’t mean that they are. Cancer NEVER leaves. I may be “healed” or “cured,” but the aftermath of cancer will ALWAYS remain. I am here and still fighting to survive because my daughter and my son need a mother. They deserve so much more than I can currently give them.