Feeling

Sorry I’ve been completely off the blogging map…really never have time to sit down and write anymore with school. I also never have any energy so I can’t stay up late to write like I used to do.  But, I miss it… a lot. I jot down thoughts every chance I get…I pulled a bunch of them together into this piece.  Just came home this weekend for an MRI, found two small new bumps on my neck that are hopefully just nothing.

I like writing in this style, I just write the lines exactly as they come through my head. Really is just raw thoughts and feelings and it feels so good to get them out of my head.  I’ll try to write again soon.

After something hurts you

Again.

and again.

and again.

The nerve endings just break.

Not just break…they die.

That part of you goes numb.

 

I am numb.

This hurt, this cancer, I am numb to it.

It has become such a part of my life that in a way I feel selfish for wanting it to be over.

 

I’ve felt too much for one person to feel…

and now I know how it feels,

when you feel like you have nothing left to feel.

 

It’s just heavy.

So heavy.

 

Some days I want to scream at the wind for blowing or the rain for falling—but I don’t.

I stay quiet. Being patient.

Because maybe if I’m quiet enough this time…if I don’t get too mad at the cancer,

maybe it will will actually be the last time,

the last time it comes back.

 

I know, I know that cancer is one of those things that was put in my life to break me.

Everyone has that thing.

The thing that is meant to teach you how to pull yourself back together again.

And cancer is my thing.

 

But one day I’m scared it’ll break me just a little too much,

push me a little too far.

And when that happens…

when that happens I’m scared I’ll scream so loudly that I will shatter and break the world.

I won’t hold back anymore,

and I  will scream at that rain for falling, and that wind for blowing, and the light for shining.

 

I know that that day will never come,

and cancer knows that that day will never come,

…the day when I break.

But I can’t help but wonder if that’s what it’ll take.

If giving into the pain is the only thing that will make it go away.

 

My life is summed up by advancing then retreating.

I feel like I’ve learned my lesson,

I know how to pick up all of my broken pieces.

Cancer has changed me—for the better.

But I’m beginning to wonder

…how many different people do I need to be before I can finally just be?

How many times must my world be spun for it to finally just be still?

 

 

CC