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Complexities of Grief and Joy

Warrior Megsie 1 Comment

The complexities of grief and joy existing in the same space make me a tad uncomfortable and anxious. Though I’m usually an open book about everything, there were certain experiences from 2021 and the beginning part of this year that I couldn’t openly discuss without jeopardizing my career. I’ve moved forward into what I hope is a safer and more inclusive position professionally but the intense damage to my mental and emotional health are still struggling behind the smile and natural energy I show the world.

While having weekly therapy sessions has definitely put a dent in my bank account, they have been worth every cent and more. How do I know this? I’ve had over six people in the past two weeks tell me they can feel a difference in my energy. My face isn’t pinched. I’m not crying uncontrollably. My smiles are more genuine than not. These aren’t even people who know me on a deeper level either.

If I’m smiling and possess a bright aura, shouldn’t I be filled with immense joy and grief should be on the back burner? Well, yes and no.

The huge chunks of grief stem from “surviving” breast cancer and living in a country that doesn’t value people who look like me. Just when I think I’m over certain dreams that my breast cancer stole from me, I get hit with a hurtful wave of the reality of what is physically no longer possible, like kids. Is my grief irrational when I get irritated talking to friends on the phone who have toddlers that constantly interrupt the call? It’s not my place to say anything since I’m not a parent but it makes me irrationally irritated that I can’t have a conversation without them having to talk to their little one at the same time. Then it reminds me that I’ll never have those kinds of conversations with a mini-me or teach them how to say excuse me when I’m on the phone the way my mother taught me.

I’m also still reeling from the suicide of the former Miss USA Cheslie Kryst. She talked a lot about the microaggressions she experienced when practicing law on her TikTok. Daily microaggressions more often than not come from white people. They can truly harm a soul in a way that is so covertly insidious that half the time you think it’s all in your head. You blame yourself for being too sensitive and begin to doubt your intellectual ability and capacity to hold it together because you never want to let them see you cry and even show how much they’ve hurt you. Why are my Black tears never comforted or believed like white women’s tears?

While all this grief, hurt, and trauma continues to engulf me, I’m also filled with a different kind of joy that I’ve never experienced before.

I’m going to end here and will write more about this different kind of joy in a separate post because I want to spend time on the truly good things I’m manifesting.

Until next time,

Warrior Megsie

Ode to Grief and Stage IV

Warrior Megsie 1 Comment

I confess the holidays and life, in general, seem more difficult this year. I’ve been pondering why. That’s when I realized my grief is deeper.

As the countdown for 2019 begins, I think of the loss of fellow warriors this year. This was the first year where some I’d met online and in-person from various support groups passed away from metastatic cancer. I had felt such a connection with these women. I had watched the progression of their metastatic cancer.

There was one survivor in particular whose death continues to hit me hard. Her name was Christy.

She was feisty.

She was graceful.

She was gentle.

She never lost her sense of humor.

She never lost her essence.

She never lost her compassion.

More importantly, as the end was near, she gently passed away on her own terms surrounded by her loved ones. I have never had a bird’s eye view of the progression from life to death in such a dignified way.

What struck me the most is I’m not immune to this happening to me. Metastatic cancer can happen to anyone. 

It’s brutal.

It’s painful.

It’s death.

While I have loving friends both near and far, I still have a difficult time relating to anyone outside of the cancer world. I can’t just“get over it” because more long-term side-effects keep presenting themselves in painful ways.  I’m crushed that my life post-cancer doesn’t feel like much physical healing has occurred.

Then I look outside of my physical and emotional pain and see the beauty and amazement of new opportunities that have come my way that never would’ve happened if I had not gone through cancer. Finding my writing voice again has been the greatest and most unexpected gift.

I had stopped writing for six years before I got cancer. My voice was gone. Then getting breast cancer, though utterly traumatic, has given me purpose and a voice again. I have such a passion to remain an advocate through writing and speaking.

As the New Year approaches, I do feel more hopeful than I did last year. I don’t know how much time I have left on this earth, as none of us do. After my friend Christy’s death, I am determined to seek more joy and continue to give be a voice for those who haven’t found theirs yet or don’t know how to express it.

I still have days of utter sadness, grief, anger, and frustration. Yet, I also have days of beauty, joy, laughter, love, acceptance, and new opportunities. I hope to find that delicate balance one day.

This quote continues to bring comfort as I enter 2019…

“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”― Oscar Wilde

Reality Bites

Warrior Megsie 6 Comments

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.

Reality Bites.

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.

Reality Bites.

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.

Reality Bites.

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.

Reality Bites.

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.

Reality Bites.

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.

Reality Bites.

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,

Warrior Megsie