Oh, hey there!
Wow! It’s been quite a long time since I updated the ol’ Boo! I sure hope that everyone out there is doing well. Are you all having a nice summer/winter? (That’s me being all clever and recognizing that some of you are in another hemisphere!)
I’ve just had a full on meltdown watching this BBC show, Call the Midwife. I’m talking a full on crying, have to keep pausing the episode because I’m flipping out so much, many tissues crumbled around me kind of meltdown. I bet you can guess what the episode was about? Yep! You guessed it. It was about a man who had cancer. This is something very interesting that I have noticed within the last say… eight months or so. Let’s say a year just to be safe. I have a lot of trouble watching films/shows where someone has cancer. Especially if I know they are going to die. It’s strange, really. I try to process what thoughts are going through my head as I am weeping in front of a screen but I can’t seem to pin them down. It’s more a feeling. A tremendous, heavy, desperate feeling of sorrow. That’s the best way I can describe it.
I had a little crying meltdown recently when I was sharing the work I have done so far on the Boo Cancer book (more to come on THAT hopefully SOON!!!!) with a friend of mine. I was simply going over a timeline of events as I want them to be in the book and talking about each little point on the timeline et voila! Crying meltdown. I’m talking can’t speak, can only sob type of crying. And all I was doing was talking about when I had cancer!!
When I was going through treatment I felt I was handling it like a champ. Well, like the best champ that I could be considering I had cancer. Even after treatment I felt I did a pretty good job of sliding back into life. Granted I felt a bit lost, as if I had to figure out who I was all over again, but still, I wasn’t crying hysterically if someone with cancer was in a film or on a t.v. show. I think there is a part of me that, in order to protect myself, pushed down a lot of how very heavy and awful the disease was and how scary it was to know that here I was with a disease that kills people. I myself have lost people I know to it. Then there was the moment when having a double mastectomy came up because of that darn BRCA2 gene. And then having my ovaries removed. All things that I still think about, albeit carefully and in my own time.
I think somewhere along the line there was a great deal of sorrow that was pushed deep down inside me which now comes out in these silly moments which are usually accompanied by orchestral strings and good lighting. I’ve had the disease. I know how serious it is. I know how awful it can make you feel. How scared. How utterly alone even when you are surrounded by people. And how suddenly you can go from being a young woman going about her life to someone who has to think about her life being shortened and what that even means.
I think I need to be a bit more careful about the things I watch for awhile. Then again, it’s good to feel. I’ve never been one to shy away from honoring the feelings that come up inside of me. Maybe it’s not a bad thing to have a (HUGE) cry every now and again over something that is indeed sad no matter which way you look at it. Yeah. Maybe that’s the way to look at it. It’s okay to feel scared or sad about something I’ve had first hand experience with that was both scary and sad. It’s okay. I’m going to go easy on myself. Better to feel something than to not feel anything at all.