Archive for November, 2013

There’ve been times, especially this year, when I thought I might not make it through. The truth is, I haven’t always wanted to be in this world. That’s hard to acknowledge, but it is what it is. Losing myself like that scared me badly, but it was also the catalyst for crawling my way back, stumbling over every rough spot, finding that flicker of light.

It isn’t a graceful journey, but it’s beautiful.

I don’t have much left really, I’ve spent all my money – what was supposed to be a cheap break-year that I could recoup from turned out to be a massive financial drain. Appointments, specialists, independent testing, alternative therapies. I made my choices. I’m in ‘partial remission’ which was unexpected for my situation at this point, so I think I made a good judgement call. I’ll probably have to sell my car and get something cheaper, I leased out my good horse to minimise costs without ripping my heart out, Craig will have to wait to sign the house over because I can’t cover it.

I have my son, I have my sanity, I have my friends and family.

Faith, Hope and Love.

Life just seems like such a trip sometimes. I’m 28 and I haven’t done anything. I’m 28 and I’ve done so much. I’ve done everything backward to other people I know, and that’s fine. I had a baby after being told not to hold out too much hope for children. I was diagnosed with cancer six months later, two months after buying my first house. Now my son is 6, and it’s just us, as I pick myself up yet again, go back to school – chemo brain and all – and try and make a life for us.

It’s amazing how I always get another chance.

I’ll probably always regret the way some things have ended up. I’ve lost people I care about due to my own inability to relate to their normal while mine has been so left-centre. When I’m hurting and scared, and people with good intentions try and push me towards something I don’t have room for, I tend to react explosively. But I’m learning.  The most meaningful relationship I had bar the one with my son disintegrated quite spectacularly, and that still hurts intensely when I let it, but I’m also edging towards a sense of acceptance.

I know it’s taking a lot longer than what people say, but I’ve had a lot to contend with in the meantime.

Most amazing is that I actually like bits of myself now. I can be strong and brave, funny and kind, when I have to be. When I’m having a good patch and handling life, I’m nice to be around and people like me. I have the best group of friends who try to understand me, make me nutritious meals, tell me to get more sleep and who have drenched my son in love as he’s struggled with increased awareness that this family isn’t like his friends’, because his mother is sick on a regular basis and there isn’t a permanent person to pick up the slack.

He went through this horrible acting out phase – above and beyond the usual six year old boy thing, and I was so shattered I couldn’t even write about it, but now he is even more beautiful than he was before.


Life is nothing like I thought it would be, and I’m so blessed.


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is how this feels.

It’s warm (yes, I’m discussing the weather after being a bitch about that). I just had a major breakthrough health-wise. I kind of want to write something, swim in the ocean, lie in the sun, eat whole foods.

Pretty much how I felt almost a year ago, rocking up here with my kid and fur-kids. Totally spent, stripping off those outside layers. I have until January to salvage what’s left of this year, and then I have to go ‘home’.  Well, back to what I’ll have to make a home, because it’s really the only place we have available to us.

I’m fucking terrified, when I stop and think about it. I didn’t really think I’d ever go back.

Maybe it will seem like this year never happened, and I can just kinda slip back into my job, studying online, coffee with other mums. Maybe I’m too different now, and I just don’t know it yet. I know I have like, three friends up there who have stuck by me. I have no idea about the rest.

God, I’m so glad I was here to fall apart. I can’t imagine what it would have been like up the hill. Totally unbearable I’d guess.

Maybe that is what I’m scared of – I go back, take on a mortgage, take responsibility for myself and Bailey and build us a life together, and something awful happens. I came here needing rest and strength and ended up in the hardest year of my life. I’m gritting my teeth writing this, and feeling so weak, but I. can’t. handle. much. more.

And I have some massive decisions to make.

So now that I’ve hashed all that out, I guess the question to ask myself is, ‘what should I do now?’

Try and build some strength. Make the most of this treatment break, nourish my body, allow myself to feel while I have time and space.

Walk everyday, write everyday, drink water, detox and declutter.

Accept what is and make the best of it.


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