A Path I Never Chose

My heart is so damn heavy I can barely breathe around it. It’s not just sadness. It’s grief, it’s rage, it’s this crushing weight that shows up every morning when I wake up and remember, oh yeah, I’m still sick. I’m still losing.

It’s one step forward and two steps back, and I’m so tired of falling. With my DNA markers changing, and being triple negative, I don’t even get the same chances most people do. Starting out at stage 4, I have no chance of a cure. My fight has to be uglier. More aggressive. My body doesn’t get the “standard” options. It gets the desperate ones. And I’m the one who has to live in it, feel every side effect, feel every hope get ripped away.

I had a good scan. God, I had a good scan. For a few days I let myself be hopeful. I smiled without forcing it. I made plans in my head. I let myself believe. Then the next scan came. It’s in my neck now. My chest. It’s spreading. Just like that. Right after I let my guard down. The crash from that kind of hope is violent. It knocked the air out of me. The sparkle in my eyes didn’t fade, It went out. I saw it die in the mirror and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

I’ve been smiling an being hopeful for so long I forgot what it feels like to just break down. I say “I’m okay.” I make jokes in the infusion room. All because I can’t stand the idea of the people I love hurting because of me. I’d rather choke on my own pain than see it on their faces. But I can’t do it anymore. I’m not okay. I’m not strong. I’m not brave. I’m a 36 year old woman who is terrified and furious and so, so sad. Nothing is going how I planned. Not one thing. And I hate it. I hate this body. I hate these scans. I hate that hope feels like a trap now.

I’m scared in a way I didn’t know a person could be scared. It’s bone deep. It’s every-cell-in-my-body scared. Because this isn’t a bad chapter. This feels like the end of the book, and nobody asked me if I was ready to close it. I keep screaming “why me” into the dark and the dark just swallows it. No answer. No reason. Just this. This path I never would have chosen. This path that’s chewing me up and spitting me out. Over and over again.

My body hurts in languages I don’t even have words for. Fire. Lead. Lightning. Empty. And then there’s the other pain, the one that lives in my soul. The one that happens when it’s quiet and I realize nobody, nobody, can feel this the way I do. It’s the loneliest thing I’ve ever known. I’m trapped inside a body that declared war on me, with a mind that keeps replaying every dream I won’t get to live.

So if I’m mean, I’m sorry. If I’m distant, I’m sorry. If I don’t make sense, if I snap, if I go completely silent for days, or just start crying out of no where...please don’t take it personal. I’m drowning. I’m grieving my own life while I’m still in it. I’m mourning a future that was supposed to be mine. Some days the anger is the only thing keeping me warm because everything else feels so cold.

I don’t understand. I don’t accept it. And I am so tired of pretending I’m some warrior. Most days I’m just a broken, terrified human who wants a cure she wont get. Who wants to stop counting tumors and start laughing again.

I had to get this out of my head. My head is a dangerous neighborhood right now and I can’t live there alone anymore. So I thank everyone who comments on my posts!

If you care about me, if you hear me stay. Even when I’m so hard to deal with. Even when I’m not the me you remember. Thank you for witnessing this with me. Thank you for not looking away. This is as real as it gets. I’m doing the best I can with a heart that’s shattered and a body that won’t stop taking things from me. I tried so hard to stay ten toes down I swear I heard "wow your so positive". "Your a inspiration". Until now, and I'm so sorry I let the light in me burn out.