One year ago today I was diagnosed with Cancer. Freaking cancer. Stage THREE CANCER.
Today I’m angry. Today I’m heartbroken. I’m mad at how my life has changed. How my body and mind are forever different and there are things I still can’t do. I’m mad that I have radiation tattoos that will never go away, a scar where my port was, and an abdominal scar that always looks back at me in the mirror. My body and mind are suffering every day dealing with the repercussions of chemo and radiation.
I’m pissed that I spent so much time waking up every single day knowing that my body was trying to kill me. Every single day I get sick to my stomach. Every single day I wonder if it will be my last. I’m heartbroken knowing any day it can come back. I’m pissed I had friends who never showed up. I’m mad I had to do it all alone mentally. I’m pissed that nobody will ever fully understand. I’m heartbroken that the old me is gone.
Every damn day I wake up, I’m still cancer girl. I will always be. I know my odds of it coming back and what that could mean, and I’m mad about carrying that burden. I’m angry that I’m left with survivor’s guilt. I’m mad that people tell me how strong I was when I wasn’t given a choice.
I could say all the things people want to hear, about how I never gave up, how hard I fought and continue to fight every single day, and how thankful I am to be here. But not today. I’m not looking for sympathy. In fact, I hated my cancer for making me be “obvious” to people. This is the truth. This is the ugly side of cancer that nobody sees. I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled weird and cheerful self tomorrow, but not today. Today is for me.