Dreamy Warrior

There’s often talk about what not to say to someone with cancer. The focus is always on words, talking, speaking... but what about just listening? Listen to how scared your friend is. Acknowledge it. Let them know it’s likely normal and that their feelings are valid. This is a super scary and blindsiding diagnosis with a super shit prognosis, especially not having surgery. I’m terrified, angry, anxious, stressed, lonely, sad... all I want is to talk to someone about how I’m feeling. I can’t take on your issues, but you know I will. I’m too tired for a visit, but I’ll let you come anyway. Sometimes I don’t have a choice and it’s flung upon me. Sometimes it’s a welcome surprise and other times I just want to run away. I appreciate the concern. All cancer patients do. But I am too tired to put on my social hat. I am too depressed to smile for you. Forcing it makes me even more tired. So please don’t make me do it anymore. All I want is for someone to listen to me, to talk to

My teeth hurt, I’m coughing a fair bit, chest is sore and sternum on fire... not to mention the bad burps too. But it’s worth feeling like shit if I get more days like yesterday. It started bad with a LOT of anxiety when I went out in public (not hospital) for the first time since I cut my hair. I wore a beanie because I get so cold, so I look like I have cancer now .. and it made me self conscious and uncomfortable. My hair has always been a big part of my identity and I guess I never felt how much it was protection too. To hide from the world. To look normal. Untouched by the evil cancers. I had to go home, I didn’t feel well. Nausea induced by anxiety. Then I had my psych appointment and she assured me it was just anxiety. We talked about ways to cope and just generally how our minds work when it comes to trying to be mindful. How scientifically, our brains are wired to constantly loop the shitty thoughts in the back of our minds and we can’t change that. We can work on moving aw

I hate being called a fighter Being a fighter means I’m in a battle A battle means there’s a chance I’ll lose The truth is I lost the day I got diagnosed I’m sick of the positive outlook from people who either don’t have cancer or don’t have the same cancer and situation. “Everyone is different” after all... Nobody else has to live the ‘day’ in ‘one day at a time’ Only me. Nobody else feels the constant pain, chest tightness, despair and absolute heartbroken desolation at feeling zero relief after two difficult chemo sessions. Oh the tumour looks smaller? Good. Why does my GE junction feel smaller too? Eating has only gotten harder. And so has living. And that’s the honest ugly broken truth. No, I’m not ok. Cancer is a fucking bitch.

Today I want to give you everything That I cannot give myself There’s nothing more I want than to be able to feel I try to smile, but my eyes don’t look like me anymore They crinkle downwards in sadness Because none of my happiness is real The world is drowned out By the ringing in my ears I made jokes about losing my hair But it burns and it hurts Yet it’s nothing compared To how I feel about losing it all Losing you, losing me Losing everything All that runs through my mind is how I want to leave this cage of disease But I try to hold on because I worry How everyone will live without me There’s many more colours I want to splash across this world And if I don’t, I know you’ll put my face on the moon if you could The darkness tries so hard to cover me each day So let’s laugh together now, through the tears Because the unknown is staring back at us Let’s make happy memories to keep it away One day, the black dog or the sickness could win That’s when the ferryman stamps my ticket and t

This is so true. I used to look at my friends “5 percent posts” with jealousy/envy and now I’m just tearing up and thinking “you do you bb, I’m so happy for you”. My perspective on life has changed so drastically it’s actually kinda scary! My emotions are all over the place but I am definitely more appreciative of the little things, and overwhelmed by the big things. I cry all the time. Sometimes happy, mostly sad/scared. This is a very confusing and frustrating time in my li fe. Life is already so unknown but now it’s like a dark tunnel ahead and I’m just hoping there’s a bit of light and that it’s not quite “the light” just yet. I’m mostly tired. Tired in general, tired of symptom and pain management, tired of new pains or symptoms, tired of staying positive for everyone. I’m trying. But it’s hard. The best way I can describe it is that I feel a pressure to get well. I know NOBODY means it that way when they wish me well and ask me to stay strong etc... but I can’t help but feel

Yesterday, for the first time in what feels like forever, I laughed a genuine happy/funny laugh. A big one. There have been small ones here and there, but they were always the empty ones. It feels like I’m standing behind a glass wall and I can’t reach out to everything and everyone on the other side. I can watch and they can see me react but nothing real gets through. But yesterday, while resting on my chair, and having a bit of a cry with Stephen, as we often do to “let the weakness out”, I had a painful spasm but Steve didn’t notice and randomly started jiggling my thigh with his hand. I looked at him, perplexed and he in turn was confused at my reaction. “What? You don’t like me jiggling your thigh? Haha!” “I was having a spasm!!!” “Oh.. did the jiggling help?” It was so absurd that we both started laughing through the tears. It felt so good. I want more laughter. I want to laugh all the way to my fucking grave. With both middle fingers up, flipping off death and depress