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I talked to my psych again. She wanted me to tell about the person I was before I got cancer. Which was hard. Because it reminded me of my old life. Little old me. The curly care free silly dreamer that turned into a neurotic sad little bird.

I told her I believe I'm not depressed, during our previous appointments, that I am just sad and anxious. But today she sort of made me think maybe I am. When I came home it was quite a shock to me. I hate labels. But I suppose it doesn't really matter whatever the fuck I'm calling it. It is what it is. I feel what I feel. I already came a long way accepting my feelings and I firmly believe positivity will not save you. I hate to break it to you but in my opinion it's true. You have to accept your negative feelings, make room for them and listen to them. Give them a voice as well so they don't become a silent panic within you.

I started an art journal which feels really good. It's mixed media, so I draw, paint, scrap book etc. etc. It feels good to have another outlet next to photography and writing. I also became a member of postcrossing. Which is a postcard exchange project that invites everyone to send and receive postcards from random places in the world. So I'm really trying to seek distraction. 

 

So accept all of your feelings but also make sure there's a spark. Things that will make you happy. I know 'happy' is a word that some days do not apply. But try. Really try to find things close to you. Think of picking up a new hobby, or blow life into an old project. Because you need that strength, that energy, to keep going and going. We can't quit. We can't give up now. Up we go. 

P.s. My hair diary is updated.