Further Thoughts

Last week, the treatment plan which will hopefully rid me of this alien thing within was mapped out, along with all the caveats, ifs, buts, possiblies, maybes and hopefullies which I accept are par for the course with cancer. Guarantees in the cancer world are few and far between. It was a strange experience and one which is becomIng more surreal as time moves on. Yes, we are all going to die but I now feel like the condemned man in his cell. You know it's going to happen but when?

I'm told I have a high chance of reaching five years and then it'll officially be in remission but I am also told that I have a fair chance of it turning up somewhere else sometime. As long as that somewhere else is nowhere near me then I can accept that! To be honest, the oncology visit really brought it home to me. I have friends who have suffered with, and succumbed to, potentially fatal illnesses and I've seen them bear it with courage,  positivity and fortitude. Their example is inspirational and yet, I cannot be like that. Maybe it's because it's early days but I'm being a total wuss about the whole thing. It's not so much being scared, it's the inability to plan, strategise, control or basically nail the little shit. I do not like losing yet I don't even know exactly what I'm fighting.

Perhaps I'm using it as an excuse? For several months now I've become more and more reclusive and this means I can justify that to myself. I dread the thought of going out whereas, once upon a time, the sheer joy of strolling, looking, photographing was a delight. Now, of course, if I say anything about how I feel then people say nice things and supportive words. That screws me up in two ways as, not only do I feel people will think I air these feelings just to hear praise or something that strokes my ego, but also I find the idea of praise toe-curlingly uncomfortable as well as predominantly undeserved. This is stupid, I know, for I accept that I can and do create some reasonable stuff. I seem to be heading more and more into self-destruct mode, sabotaging any pleasure in life (and I fully accept that there is plenty) and punishing myself even more.

I guess I need to get out there but, as a brilliantly perceptive blog (see here: http://www.iamkb.co.uk/2016/01/stop-being-silly-other-things-you.html) suggests, it ain't that easy. A lot of people still perceive me as the cheery, cheeky chappie absolutely brimming with confidence but that veneer costs an enormous amount in energy and I just don't have that any more. I read many memes and quotes that are totally apposite yet I can't publish them as then I'll be one of these unhappy people who are feeling sorry for themselves and almost inviting sympathy.

Take this for example;

“The loneliest people are the kindest. The saddest people smile the brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they do.”

I do try to be kind and I do hide behind the smile. Not sure about the wisdom  bit though!

I'm also not sure as to the reasons why I write this other than, if I don't, it'll just whizz around inside my head gradually getting more and more distorted. I also need it to be seen as then it achieves validity. I know I will probably regret publicising it but it needs to be done in the hope that I can climb out of this pit.

Kathy B, whose blog I referred to earlier, talks about celebrating small victories. Perhaps this post might be the first of many that will eventually win the war.

One final quote:  “It was not the feeling of completeness I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty.”

― Jonathan Safran Foer