The answer to "Why Me."
I used to think I was "bad-ass" because I was this "strong" individual who never got her feelings hurt, never wore her 'heart on her sleeve,' I'd never let anyone hurt me. I wouldn't cry in front of anyone...that was a sign of weakness.
And I wasn't weak, I was strong.
...hahaha. Yeah, right.
If I had put in the emotional work, I would have realized that dating a sociopath who constantly told me any feelings I had weren't valid was probably the root of this. I should have worked through that, but instead I just shut down.
Say whatever you want. Call me a bitch to my face, call me fat, make fun of my outfit..."I didn't care."
I think I'd get in a good cry every 6 months or so...but (embarrassingly enough) I'd have to put on some sad sap of a movie where someone dies (Siri, play "My Heart Must Go On" by Celine Dion), get in a good cry...and I was set for the next half of the year.
And then things changed. I finally became an adult...I put in the work, stopped keeping things bottled up inside constantly, acknowledged my feelings when I felt them. And what do you know? It's a lot better on your mental health when you let down that wall and let the right people in.
I was debating on putting this out there, but I said fuck it...this is my blog so buckle the fuck up.
Jk. IDK why I said buckle up...thats slightly dramatic. Anyways.
I still have pretty thick skin. I'm crude, I'm fluent in 2 languages (English and sarcasm), I definitely have a sense of humor that can only be described as DARK, and I have a tendency to make people extremely uncomfortable if they don't share my brand of humor.
(Shout out to Austin, Danielle, Andrew and Becca...y'all know what's up.)
Anyways. The thing about putting yourself out there, like I have, is that you are going to get plenty of feedback. And feedback is simply another word for someones opinion. Which, as we know...can start on one side of the spectrum and end on the other.
Clint Eastwood style. "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly."
So, up until a few days ago, I had received nothing but good and great feedback about my blog.
And then I got a message through the Wix blog platform.
I had to chuckle, because when I died my hair red, my best friend Austin goes "ew I don't like it."
I told him..."A) I don't care because *I* DO, and B) I've gotten lot's of compliments on it."
His response? "Well duh, no one is going to tell the sick cancer girl they don't like her hair...or what's left of it."
....We both started laughing. We have a very weird insult based innate love for one another. Best friends for 11+ years. Also....he is literally David from Schitt's Creek.
Yup. They even have the same clothing as well as the same personalities. #ewdavid
Getting side tracked again. I swear, just start calling me Dory.
So I chuckled, and went about my day. TBH I didn't fully read the message, I skimmed it and just knew it wasn't good.
Later that evening, I had this voice in my head telling me "Um, hello? You HAVE to read it. What did that skank say about you?"
...Okay, full disclosure, I would normally never use the word skank (yes, even with my colorful language), but seeing how I've been binge watching Vanderpump Rules from the beginning as prep for the upcoming premiere...that "voice" in my head sounded exactly like Stassi Schroeder.
So if you've seen VPR, you get it. The skank thing.
If you haven't...
So I sat down at my computer, and I read the message.
Remember earlier how I said I have thick skin and for the most part don't let stuff upset me too much?
How would I describe this message. Hmm. Well there's this thing called "constructive criticism." It was that, just remove the word constructive.
I had my first moment where I understood how certain celebrities have a "don't read the comments policy." (And NO I'm not comparing myself to one).
I sat and I just started crying. Not hard, but that like stare off into the distance with tears rolling down my face crying.
Like, I'm a 28 year old woman letting a stranger legitimately hurt my feelings. I feel so pathetic saying that, but it's true. There are times that things are said that are untoward that you know, make me uncomfortable...but I let it roll off my shoulders and let it go.
But this...this just made me sad.
But it got a smile out of me, I wanted to call Austin and say fuck you...look! People can be mean to the sickie cancer girl.
But I wanted to.
I was told I was self serving, attention seeking, and extremely selfish. How could I make everything about myself all the time...when there are so many people in this world dealing with problems, I'm not the only one in the universe going through something, and I need to stop acting like it. That's basically a summary of the 4 paragraph message I received.
Now, before I continue, this blog has taken me 3 days to write. I keep writing and rewriting, because there IS a message I want to convey, but I don't want to come across as self serving.
So after I composed myself, I just got irritated. This is MY blog. It's literally my personal diary that instead of using pen and paper, I use a computer and overshare my life with family, friends, and complete strangers.
I honestly wasn't expecting that many people to read it, which was fine with me...because I was doing this for ME. I had way too much time alone to think in-between dr appts and treatments, and I love to write.
So, on August 13th, Death Row Delights was born. Ironic, almost a year to the day of my diagnosis.
But, like I said...as I have a tendency to do, I overthink things. And the anonymous username that sent me that message...got to me.
Maybe I was whining too much. All my posts recently have been about hospitalization and not being able to walk and all the depressing shit that comes at the end of the line.
Then, I became indignant. That's bullshit. I am in no way thinking that I am the only person going through something. And to think that's my frame of mind, is just ignorant.
I read an article last week about a single mom (her husband was killed by a drunk driver) with 4 children, with a terminal brain tumor that has less than 2 months to live. I thank God every day I don't have children of my own that I am going to be leaving behind. I have a roof over my head, and food on the table. I read a story today about an army soldier killed in Kenya. He was from Chicago, and wanted a better life for himself so he joined the army to pay for college. He was 23. I could go on and on, but to say that I think I'm the only one on the planet with "problems" is unfathomable to me.
Now this is specifically the part I'm referring to that I am in no way trying to come across as self serving.
Since my blog has picked up a more and more traction, I have received so, SO many messages from all of you. I've had people reach out saying how much they connected with what I say, because they are dealing with chronic pain and some days just want to scream "FUCK" at the top of their lungs, but can't for the obvious reasons of having young children and not getting fired from their job. I've had a couple messages from people saying how I have inspired them to be their authentic self. Saying how I've changed their perspective on the world. I had someone reach out to me saying someone close to them found my blog, and decided to get clean and sober...because they realized they had a chance to change their circumstances, while I don't. I've been flooded with messages from people who either have cancer, know someone dealing with cancer, or know someone that lost their fight with cancer, and my ability to make them laugh and cry in the same sentence helps them cope with what "we" are going through together.
When you're diagnosed with cancer...there's a lot of "why" and "why me" going through your head. Just...why.
Well, all I can say is, based on every message received (minus one)...I think I found my "why."
And honestly, that makes things so much easier.
"You just do it.
You force yourself to get up.
You force yourself to put one foot before the other,
and God damn it, you refuse to let it get to you.
You fight. You cry. You curse.
Then you go about the business of living.
That’s how I’ve done it.
There’s no other way."
And guess what? Today I put one foot in front of the other, and took 10 steps without the walker. I'll take that as a win. xx.