I have had to have a word with myself today. Yesterday was spent falling into low desperate moments of sheer depression. Dark black spaces of despairs.
I’ve felt this inner dialogue with my chemo right from the beginning of this hell. For 6 cycles I led the way. If you’ve read this blog in it’s entirety you’ll agree. Yes it has caused me days of misery, pain, nausea and downright anxiety. The kind of anxiety that claws at your inner being, ripping you apart piece by piece until it leaves you empty. Stranded in your own awareness, gulping for air and the hope that one day. Maybe one day, You’ll breathe clearly again and look at the world as you once did. Through the eyes you once had. With the energy you once relied on to function.
But, despite this brutal silent slaying, I have felt I had the edge on it. I feel it has kicked me, but I have kicked back. Sometimes twice as hard. Sometimes in the face. Sometimes from behind and ran off like a coward. But I gave what I got. I squared up and I never backed down.
I’m in a relationship with something I cannot see (other than the needle every third Wednesday), but something so powerful and strong I’ve had to reach parts of myself I never knew existed to survive.
It’s killed my cancer. It’s killed my healthy cells but up until recently it hasn’t killed my strength. I am now starting to see that it has got the upper hand and has succeed in successfully taking me down. I’m not out. But I am down. Physically and mentally I am down. On my arse. Battered. Going…….
This cumulative treatment has stacked up in me and now, as each day passes I slow. I can’t look it dead in the eye anymore without flinching.
And it knows it. Now, I’m proud and I like control. So, today I wake up sticky in sweat and riddled with anxiety. I had a bad nights sleep which didn’t help. Chemo and I chatted until the early hours. It shut up about 03;38 when I eventually fell to sleep. I opened my eyes at 06:18 am. I was met with the growl of chemo again.
It was ready to ruin my Saturday and take what is left of my mouth with it.
No way could I take this.
So now my thinking looks like this……
I’m going to accept chemo has a louder voice than mine.
But I won’t whisper. I’m still here. I’m still inside so I set the intention I’ll accept with grace, that I’m not going to fell well now for about 6 weeks. I’m going to accept that I have been through the worse and as the home stretch lies ahead of me, I’ll pass that finishing line, not feeling well or feeling myself, but feeling incredibly proud that I stayed in one piece and took on the most aggressive opponent a human being can. I took on chemo and I gave I gave it my best shot.
I don’t want to say it won. Not yet anyway. But I do need to recognise it’s took it’s toll on me. But that’s OK. I am still aiming to have the last laugh on November 4th.
As we part ways for the last time – I will smile, shake its hand and walk away with my bald head held high and my middle finger eve higher.
