I need people to understand that I know what is best for me.
Unfortunately, I did not plan on getting sick.
My illness does not make me any less of the person I am or choose to be and if I allow my illness to do that, then it wins and I lose.
Every day I wish and hope that I can live a normal life and not have to worry about getting sick today or tomorrow, but I know that is not the reality of my situation. I have to be careful and watch out for my health because my immune system cannot always keep up with the things I want to do. I have to worry about taking medication religiously. Things I have to worry about, normal people with good health do not have to worry about.
But, I am fortunate to still be able to do what I want to do.
Things could always be worse.
If I feel like I am capable of doing something, people need to stop trying to force me to take care of myself better. Do they not understand that I know this? I try and I try. But, to be reminded of my own struggle by people worrying for me does not help. I want to remain positive. I want to remain normal. I know some people may worry about me constantly and I am grateful for that, but if tomorrow were my last day at least I can say I lived it the way I wanted to.
At least, let me have that.
For those of you that do not know, I am living with chronic myeloid leukemia (CML). CML is a type of leukemia in which your white blood cells are overproduced and eventually produce immature blood cells that do not allow your normal ones to function well. I am in remission as we speak and I take medications daily to prevent the genes of my cancer from replicating which prevent the cancer from becoming worse. I am living with it and the key word is “living”. That is what matters and some people need reminding. Like I said, it could always be worse. I appreciate and love my life despite the struggle of trying to keep healthy all the time. I only hope people can see it from my point of view, too. Maybe one day others will understand that I am struggling more with the way they deal with it than the way I do.
I forgot what dealing with anxiety was like, up until recently.
Awakening anxiety is like drowning in a hail of emotions you do not understand. Well, I think there is some form of understanding but you are definitely just minutely grasping it by the tips of your fingers. It is also profoundly deafening, even at its most docile moments. It wakes you from a deep sleep and from that sleep, you still lay so uncomfortably even when your bed is as warm as a mid-day sun ray touches your skin.
The reason being for my anxiety is because I have been dealing with a form of emptiness. This emptiness feels similar to neglect and/or replacement. It itches underneath my skin and eats me up on the inside. It is related to insecurity or lack of security and assurance. Deep in my mind, I am uncomfortable and writhing from the discomfort.
What do I feel?
Someone else is creating memories for me and in place of me. Someone else is taking care of my responsibilities. Someone else sharing the space that is mine.
Am I being selfish at this point? Can I help it even if I could?
I feel as if my personal space has been invaded a little. Reality or not, now, I am not just the only girl. It feels less intimate to me that I can find something so special elsewhere.
Truth is, this is all very subliminal if you have not caught on already.
I am not writing to be petty. I am not writing for attention. I am writing so that instead of allowing my eyes to tear and flow heavy with hurt, at least I can put my feelings to words and make them feel lyrical and distant.
For eyes to see and minds to understand, this is how a human being feels about anxiety and insecurities. That is all. But, overcoming this is not a difficult obstacle, and I understand that. The only way to deal with pain is to get through it.
It is so hard to deal with voids, even if temporary.
Listening to a minder wander silently
Through a deep serenade of anxiety
Spiraling madly into a chaos so dark
Feeling so lost and left in satiety
Creating hope like speckled spots
A light in the dim and dark lots
Deeply tracing pessimism
Filling void after void with good thoughts
Coming out of a battle within
Balanced like a yang to a yin
Engulfed by good and soaring high
And this is where happiness begins
At a loss for words
For the lost in turns
What our hands once held
And in our hearts once burned
Oh, how the seasons have changed
It hurts to see the souls crying
In a season that is cold
And the earth dying
How empty are the tombs
Where our memories are left
The void feels so heavy
A goodbye, A grand theft
But in the darkness of the night
Comes but the still silence and pause
You continue to be a light
And for this I write words with beauty and cause
I am at a loss for words
When at lost in turns
Forgive my aching heart
As it yearns, it yearns
I am at a loss for words
When at lost in turns
Forgive my stomach
As it churns, it churns
Until the moment the skies part their clouds
The shade stands still and tears steadily flow
Words will be spoken so tenderly
And our love for you will be known
I think it’s fair to say that I have had my fair share of grief in the last few days trying to cope with the utter shock of Donald Trump becoming our president-elect. In the last few days, I denied it, I was angry, I bargained, I was depressed; Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief did not entirely prepare me for this. As I come to the edge of my depression and sadness, I still cannot seem to fathom accepting that it will be okay to watch children grow in a country that is so divided, full of ignorance and hate.
I want to learn to accept, but I know it will take time.
As everyone is entitled to their opinion, these are very much my own and I hope that you may respect that…
You’re on the verge of mesmerizing phantoms
The dead eyes realize the power of their gaze
And their heavy tongues wasted in dry moans
And in sequence, the wasting sighs play like a phase
A tantalizing dreamer can only hope
For a chariot will take away all her lost faith
To the spiteful darkness she will hide
But in that darkness she will find peace to cope
How sad it is to see the simple pleasures of adoration
Fade into neglect and silence.
What an empty solace by hands of ignorance.
Awoken by the pains of love,
Broken by the suppression,
Divided by the uncertainty;
Woes, the chains of a saint martyred by their heart.