I’ve thought a lot about “my story,” and who will tell it. It’s a tough pill to swallow knowing my family history literally ends with me.
It’s overwhelming to think about. Friends tell me I can still be a mother by either adopting or marrying someone with children. There are many issues with these two scenarios, so I’ve highlighted the top three:
- I’m single and not about to adopt a child when I can barely provide for myself and mounting health needs/issues.
- The thought of dating is off the table for at least another year or so due to chronic pain, fatigue, and zero sex drive.
- I don’t even know if I will still be alive in another year or what other illnesses will befall me as long-term side effects keep popping up.
The point is I will NEVER have a human legacy who inherits my long lashes, quirky personality or bubbly laugh.
I was looking at old family pictures this morning. Though my mother and I physically do not look-alike, I found two pictures of when we were little, and we have identical facial expressions and seated position. It makes me laugh, yet weep.
Life can be very hard; for some more than others. I’ve often questioned why I have to carry so much weight on my heart and soul. I don’t want to be Hercules or Wonder Woman.
I don’t know where my resilience stems from. There have been more dark moments that I care to fully acknowledge in my life thus far, and also many beautiful, delightful and charming moments.
This is not about being clinically depressed. This is about the ups and downs of grief. This is about MY reality. I’m still grieving over what could have been, what my reality is and how difficult thinking of the future and making plans can be at times.
There are moments when I think, “What’s the point?” of telling my story. Who really cares?
- Chronically single
- Medically barren
- Breast cancer survivor
- Only child
A therapist told me to keep posting pictures on social media from my scrapbooks and photo albums that I have so lovingly put together over the years that fully capture the really magical, humorous and exciting moments since childhood. I was doing just that to make my digital legacy mean something but stopped as life post-cancer became too much again.
The only constant in my life is the essence of me remains the same. It’s solid. It’s my core.
- Cancer couldn’t kill it.
- Depression can’t kill it.
- Grief can’t kill it.
- Pain and fatigue can’t kill it.
There always seems to be a storm brewing, edging its way to the forefront of my mind. I could really use a season of calmness in my body, heart, and mind.
Reality truly does bite.
Until next time,
6 thoughts on “Reality Bites”
Beautifully written. I think your words and your spark will be your legacy 🙂
Aww…thank you so much! Hugs!
I am not as young as you are..I will he 52 on Nov.25th but as a person who is having to battle breast cancer for a second time along with a multitude of other health ailments…I find your blogs very real and telling…some people will NEVER understand the pain, isolation…thank you for authenticating what so many of us deal with Everyday!
Thank YOU for taking the time to read my blog! Hate the beast snared you again. I’m determined to shine a spotlight on the pain that soooo many of us keep private because it’s so intense and isolating. You’re NOT alone. Hugs!
Wow, my sentiments exactly. Its quirky but so raw and real and yes, each of our realities post cancer bites. I’m sorry about you not being able to biologically be a mom and I fully understand your daily struggles as they are so familar to me two years post treatment myself
Hi Marie! I apologize for my late reply. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my blog and for the beautiful comment. Hugs, my fellow warrior!