I decided a while back that I was going to commit to posting once a day. I have that much to say and that much to process. Then I started feeling fear of judgement over sharing my personal private thoughts about this journey of healing and chemo thrown into the mix. That's pretty crazy, right? I mean the whole purpose of doing this blog is so that I can "self-medicate" by writing out what bothers me. So I had to dump fear because he's a bad boyfriend.
I love writing, it's something I'm really good at and it comes fairly natural to me. So, I should be able to enjoy something I can do well because there are a lot of things I cannot do so well right now. It pains me that I get worn out from standing chopping STEAMED vegetables. Do you know how easy it is to chop steamed vegetables? It hardly takes any effort, normally. But that's the kicker, what was normal is no longer a part of my checklist of things I can do with ease. That's why this writing has become so important to me. It's more than just sorting through the aftershock of emotions, it's a reminder to myself that I can at least do something. I get so bummed out that I can't function like I used to with so much energy. People remind me that I'll go back to being able to do things without struggle, like before, but it feels so distant. It feels just out of reach. And the small bursts of energy I do get I've learned to use conservatively so that I'm not spending the next week in bed. This isn't a pity party by the way. This is the ache in my heart to do and be more. I hate the thought of being treated like I'm sick. People get all weird and think you can't do stuff for yourself and they usually tend to overcompensate. I include myself in that too. When my dad was sick I would offer to do more for him than he would have liked. At the time I had more energy so I kinda forgot what it's like to feel how I feel now. It's like a natural inclination to want to help, at least for me it is. I get so frustrated that I can't help clean or pick up more around the house. I suppose that I should tell myself, "hey, you're going through chemo, what do you expect?!" But I can't answer that normally. In my head I'm still the go-get-em Solider that was Johnny-on-the-spot, now I'm Celia-feels-like-a-sloth. I'm laughing as I think of the Zootopia scene at the MVD. I guess that this is just another season of learning to have more grace with myself. It's like learning to work with what I have. Learning that as angry as I feel on any given day for being so out of control, there are still little things that I can control that are good. Speaking of, I did make a soup tonight, with the help of my sister that turned out amazing, So, yay for that success!
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