Knowing that the bastard cancer got into my bones is so frustrating. I am thankful it’s not active. It has left scarring on my bones which cause a lot of pain but I’ll be fucked if I’m giving into it.
My surgery has been completed I have the boobs of a 24 year old. I am thankful for that.
I have always seen life as gift so it hasn’t changed my outlook. It has however made me even more thankful.
I am thankful for every morning.
If I have to share my life with cancer and it’s bastard treatments then I will share it with making the best memories and taking advantage of the best situations.
Every time I am knocked down when I get up again I’ll have a cocktail in hand and a smile on my face.
You don’t have to win to enjoy playing.
I’ve been scared of spiders for as long as I remember. They freak me out and make my whole body recoil.
I’ve been scared of cannulas for just under a year. My veins were effected from my very first chemo. My first failed cannula felt like a failure. It was such a small thing but it was the first time my body had let me down. It was a small thing but what it symbolised was big.
The Hospital is like a time machine for me. Certain rooms, smells or faces take me instantly back to a time I’d rather forget. As I type this the ECG room is to my left, when I saw it I winced. The last time I had to go in there I was burnt from Radiotherapy. Not sunburnt, open weeping deep burnt skin the Nurse had to stick the probes on to. I haven’t thought of that day un till now. When ever I’ve need an ultra sound, if I get the room I had when they first told me I had cancer I get a wave of sadness, I can see myself crying and I can feel everything all over again.
It’s not all bad though. The Outpatients waiting room (where I’m sitting now because they have the most comfortable chairs) is my most peaceful place. When ever I’m here to see a Doctor its always good news so I don’t dread it, every outpatients appointment I leave smiling.
Always find your Outpatients waiting room.
Who decided that we should bounce back to what we were before? If that was natural order we would have never evolved.
It is really sad mourning who you were. Some do it better then others. Lets not forget misery likes company after all and a sad version of you is more comfortable then a new you. Allowing myself to feel excitement not fear is a big thing for me. I have always been a glass half full person, I never worried about things before they happened. All I do now is worry about things, ALL the things! It is totally new to me and its exhausting. I would love to bounce back to my former self but I can’t so I have to move forward.
You can’t live with the dead and I feel that part of me died the moment I was diagnosed. What I didn’t see that in the darkness a new me was reborn, like any newly birthed thing its weak and vulnerable. It needs feeding, loving, teaching and protecting so it can grow.
That is how I see myself. As delicate as a newborn. Growing by the day, getting stronger and stronger. I may not be who I was but I am excited to see who I become.
Who knew I was suffering? I didn’t.
I was just doing what everyone else seems to be doing. Their best.
What I didn’t know is not everyone feels how I feel. Now looking back I feel a bit silly about that. I have let myself down. If what I was feeling was a physical, or could be seen I would have been straight to the doctors, like I did when I had cancer. But I didn’t. Instead I have struggled and battled and for the life of me I do not know why.
Mental Health is a labyrinth. There is no blue print or map. No rhyme nor reason. A scary mass of fear and confusion. Unimaginable pain and paranoia. Self loathing masquerading as self confidence. A big fat smile and the need to fix people. Looking selfless making it even harder to be selfish, to take the time to look after yourself. Its a trap, every way you go.
Not everyone is the same, we have different levels. I have never felt that the world would be better with out me. It breaks my heart that anyone could believe that of themselves. What I have realised is that loving yourself is not arrogant. Demanding the best for yourself isn’t being spoilt. That there are no prizes for putting everyone first. For me to get better, I need to love myself.
…..is a one stop shop of everything from Family to Cancer.
Having been a Mum for nearly 16 years my approach to parenting is quite relaxed. I feel so sad that in the last 10 years or so it seems that women/mothers are trained not to follow their own instincts. I am 1 of 7 children and my mum is 1 of 9. Being a Mum has always come very easily for me so having Mia on my own at 21 wasn’t the end of the world. My youngest brother was only 4 at the time so it was just another baby in the house. My Mum is very old school which has rubbed off on me.
I was the Health Visitors worst nightmare. After I had Bertie I couldn’t believe how much had changed. There was no making up a days worth of bottles anymore, weaning was 6 months not 3!! I didn’t abide to any of this. I did what was best for me and my baby.
I completely understand the fear some women must feel and it makes me sad to think they second guess themselves or think that someone else knows better then them. The online pressure of being perfect is another obstacle. I think it’s so important to not stress the smalls, so what if your late on the school run? The world does not end. Your child will not hate you. Take a breath.
They are only small for a short amount of time, why spend that stressed? Please and thank you are important. Writing their own name before they start nursery is not. To make a happy human you have to be a happy human.
Having children does change you. That is ok.
Through my own experiences I want to explore and talk about everything that effects us. Good and Bad.
You get in life what you have the courage to ask for. — Oprah Winfrey