I've been struggling with this feeling that I should stop talking about cancer. It must feel so redundant to all of you who have kept up with me over the past year and a half. "What? She's talking about cancer again? Let's move on please!"
But it's sort of on my radar. It clouds the lens that I view the world through and effects how I process life. So yep, here we go again - a well known topic for regular readers of this blog: fear.
I wrote this in my journal about a week ago and I'll rewrite it word for word unless it's really incoherent so it's sort of 'stream of consciousness' stuff, nothing too polished.
I have this feeling. It's under the surface of my skin and I think it's fear or panic and if I look too closely at it I feel like it will grow. If I ignore it, maybe it'll go away.
I'm scared to death of having cancer again. If I let myself, I would think about it always. It manifests in weird ways. In the feeling that I'm not doing enough; eating enough veggies, or juicing, or exercising enough.
Just the other day I finally decided that I exercise best in the early evening. I walk or do Pilates or another video and by the time the kids go to bed I'm done and can wind down. Also, it helps cut back on the evening snacking. So, I make this decision and the very next day I'm in conversation with a few people and I mention that it's easiest for me to exercise in the evening.
Immediately a number of them tell me why it's totally not good to do so. Disrupts your sleep, your body works best when you exercise first thing in the morning, it's bad for your metabolism. It was a short conversation, very short, and yet it consumed me. I felt almost panicked that I was doing it wrong. All night I would wake up half thinking about it. In the morning I laid in bed willing myself to get up and exercise. I even didn't shower thinking it would help me keep to the plan. But mornings aren't my time. I've tried, believe me.
Why did that conversation bother me so much? Exercise in the evening is better then none at all right? My conclusion: I think deep down I'm afraid. When I'm supposed to be full of joy in being cancer free - I'm afraid. When I should be moving on with life - I'm afraid. Not always. Not on the surface. Just below, almost hidden.
The other day I was watching a talk show and there was this segment called guys on the couch where the audience gets to ask questions and the guys will try to answer. Usually its relationship stuff but this time it was a mom asking when her 22 year old son would start wanting to spend time with her without feeling obligated. One of the guys on the couch answered her by saying he lost his mom when he was 15. He'd love to hang out with her, he'd do it all the time if he could. And I burst into tears. Sobs. Gut clenching, throat hurting sobs. All I could picture was my own son saying that and I was so afraid it would be true.
Fear. I choose not to fear. I choose to live in peace but sometimes it's minute by minute. Other times week by week. Jesus - put fear in it's place. Replace it with peace that only comes by trusting in you.
Since that entry I've had a great couple weeks. Lots of energy and joy and fun with life. But man if that fear doesn't just sneak up on you in the weirdest ways.