From Warrior to Survivor

We are human, everyone has their dark moments, dark days, hell even dark months that’s a given. Before my cancer diagnosis I’d be lying if I said I never had them, but lately my dark days seem more frequent and the good days seem few and far between.

Monday, I had another appointment at the cancer center. This one wasn’t anything serious it was literally just an EKG, but there is something about sitting in a waiting room surround by people with their support system that will send you on a downward spiral or just break your spirit when you’re sitting there alone even for a simple routine test. Today was that day for me. I woke up this morning feeling off, and having to sit in the waiting room, even though I probably broke some sort of record for the quickest appointment there it broke me.

It feels like the minute I switched to Sloan Kettering, people stopped checking in. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t need to be the center of everyone’s life, that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is once everyone knew I switched cancer centers it was as though their concern was gone, like they somehow thought that this new center would take away every ounce of concern I have. Like they would magically snap their fingers and boom everything would just disappear. That in fact is not reality, not even close.

On my dark days, which seem to be more frequent I feel so incredibly alone, and when I try to talk to the people who tell me they are there no matter what, they shut me down and tell me to stop, because it’s not what they want to hear. Do you know what it is like to feel like you’re being swallowed by a black hole and not being allowed to really feel the feelings, the emotions, but instead are forced to stand up with a smile on your face and say “I’m fine.”? It’s like no one wants to hear me when I tell them that I am one tear away from a breakdown. They don’t want to hear about the days when you want to throw the medication in the trash. The days when you see a pregnant person walk past you and this emptiness inside knowing that you will NEVER be able to have those moments again.

It’s these days when I want oh so badly to give up, to stop taking the medication, lay in bed and pray to God to make the pain the emptiness, the loneliness stop. It’s those moments that you cling to hope that you will wake up from this hell, this nightmare, knowing that it’s never going to happen yet you’re still hoping and praying.

Do you know the last time I broke down and someone actually wrapped their arms around me to calm me down? It was on September 26, 2022, when I stood in my bathroom nearly ready to collapse trying to process what was actually happening as my 1-week-old son lay napping in his bassinet. Do you know the last time I felt the support of the people around me? That was on October 23, 2022, when we all stood together and walked with Making Strides Against Breast Cancer.

I’m not saying that those around me are doing it on purpose, I don’t believe that to be the case. I understand everyone has their own lives to live, Hell I have one of my own but what I wouldn’t give to feel the power of the people rally behind me again.

The days seem longer and full of more darkness, and as much as I want to give up most days there is a tiny part of me that whispers “Girl you aren’t done yet.” I’ve allowed myself to have these moments in private, while I’m showering, while the baby is sleeping, while my daughter is in school, and no one is around. It’s in those moments that I feel like I am allowed to feel.

I know what you’re thinking, if your one of the many people reading this saying “I tell her all the time I’m here” go ahead and roll your eyes one more time. I’ve become so good at masking the emptiness that I feel with a smile and an “I’m fine” I can almost convince myself that I am in fact fine, when my heart knows I’m not.

So how dark can the dark days get? They can get pretty dark.