One Year

It was a year ago, today that I sat in a small room in my oncologist’s office sobbing, as I was told there is no cure. The horrible news I had received in the emergency room just a couple of nights before was confirmed. My cancer was back and I was now stage four. Jesse and Violet were in the waiting room as I shook with horror and near-disbelief. How could this happen? I was in remission! I had been cancer-free for over three years! I was better! Since then, I’ve learned a lot about breast cancer and even more about myself.

This past year has been nothing short of tumultuous. Much of it has been documented herein. I had originally intended to write a book, but inspiration has been lacking as of late. Right now, I’m just trying to get through each day, replacing negative with positive, retraining my brain to think differently. I’ve been working on a new diet, one that is supposed to help combat the cancer, but with Jesse out of work, I haven’t been able to afford it. I know that’s a temporary thing (as everything in life is temporary, even life itself), so I’m taking it to mean that until that is resolved, I just need to work harder on my positive thinking. A big part of that has been about returning to Krav Maga. I believe I missed about three months, which was a devastating blow to my mental health. My PTSD began to rear its ugly head and every day was a fight with my own psyche. While I knew that creating and maintaining a positive mental space is essential to my survival, when physical pain becomes a daily occurrence, it’s a lot more work and you fall down a lot more often. Since the cancer has grown in its existing locations and spread to my intestines, I’ve had to rely on heavy narcotics daily and I started radiation on my spine just last Thursday. I am currently in the middle of my week off from chemotherapy, so the sickness hasn’t been as severe. Mornings are still hard, but I’ve been playing “The Secret” on Netflix almost daily and that helps me turn things around most of the time.

Last Wednesday evening was my return to Krav. Mr. Eric was awesome as usual, and since the class was odd, I had two partners and I adore them both. My instructors, classmates, and East West Martial Arts in general, have all been extremely supportive and encouraging in all of this. It was like returning home. There are more limits to what I can do than there were before my spine started hurting, but radiation will knock that down and training regularly will build me back up. I need it. Krav Maga has become one of the most powerful tools I have against depression and PTSD. I’ve noticed that the longer I go without, the worse everything else seems to get. When I go regularly, I can function. And so, I have resolved not to allow that kind of absence again. I can’t afford it, though I have scaled back to basic classes until my spine has improved. Mr. Eric agrees that it’s a good idea.

I’m in an odd place, mentally and emotionally. As I learn to balance my energies and build positive thoughts, I have been experiencing a sort of yo-yo effect. There’s a lot of back and forth almost daily, but I know that with practice and mindfulness, it will get easier. Terrible things are happening in the world and in America lately (insert rant about the devastating election and its results here), which weighs heavy on empaths like myself. We feel EVERYTHING and when explosive emotions happen on such a large scale, it’s like being bombarded from all sides and it gets so very heavy. I’ve had to really watch that. It can destroy my entire day if I’m not mindful. I also lost a “friend” recently because he/she did not agree with a choice I made regarding the use of my daughter’s image on a t-shirt. That stung badly until I could absorb the situation completely and come to terms with the fact that this person simply wasn’t who I had raised him/her up to be in my head. Then I could analyze it for what it was and realize that the problem was not with me but with the other person and that he/she isn’t worth that kind of upset. I cannot afford to let the judgments of others impact my happiness. As an empath, this is vital to my survival. Even further, I do not intend to just survive. I intend to thrive. 

So Seymour...we meet again.