Here comes the story of the hurricane

Everyone has a story to be told. Sometimes struggle is part of that story.

How do you feel about your home? Is it your home sweet home? Did you decorate it, picked out the furniture and the colours? Do you have lots of happy memories that make you smile. Do you picture yourself growing old in that little corner in the world that is yours. Because after all, there is no place like home?

Now picture a hurricane totally destroying that same house. Everything you built is gone, destroyed. Not just the outside but on the inside as well. Every little detail that once made you feel safe... is now gone.

That is cancer.

Exactly two years ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer and it was a big fucking hurricane. So no this is not a cancerversary because I hate that word. Treatment might be over, but I'm still stuck in the middle of this crazy dystopian story. Trying to pick up and dust off, some of the pieces. A hurricane leaves quite the mess. That place, that used to be so solid, is now trembling. It is still burning. No longer do I recognize it. So lost and confused, where to begin?

Recovering from cancer treatment isn't just about the outside — it's also about healing your soul. It is an emotional struggle. I read last year's post and realized I have come a long way. I am not where I want to be... but I will one day. Progress is progress, no matter how small. I think I finally feel/understand that now.

For a year and a half my life was all about getting through treatment. These days I embrace my good days, and as for the bad days I try to let them be. They say grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.