Tacos, Titties & Therapy

I’m no stranger to depression and anxiety; it’s been a battle the majority of my life. I’ve written about it quite a bit in the past. It’s funny to now be in a position where I am desperate to live rather than the opposite. And even more hilarious is that all those years of fighting have prepared me to battle cancer.

You’re taking this really well…

Besides “you’re young” and “you have a long life ahead of you,” I get “you’re taking this really well” most often. Yes, I am, I think. A lot of that is because I’ve been pretty good at hiding/suppressing those types of emotions. It’s not that I’m fake (or it doesn’t feel that way) . . . it’s just, I’m still able to function “normally” without tipping off everyone.

This does NOT mean I’m calm and collected all the time (although neither of those words describe me, generally!). Like the lung biopsy – holy balls, that was hard. Getting the diagnosis in the first place. Oddly, those moments pass relatively quickly. I have them, they’re hard, and I find a way to make something weird out of it. 😉

But I have a harder time accepting the outpouring of support than I do the diagnosis. It’s the thing that stops me in my tracks the most, having to talk about it. It’s hard to even type this part of the post, if I’m being real. Growing up in an environment where people couldn’t accept me for who I was made me tough and independent. But it gives you a real mindfuck, let me tell you. It has carried over all these years.

I didn’t shed a tear going into the CT scan for a lung biopsy without sedation, but telling my therapist about an email one of my attorneys sent me calling me a “badass mom” made me sob for a moment (I don’t think I’ve ever sobbed to my therapist).

Candidly, I hate the fucking spotlight. I can speak up if I need to, but it’s not something I enjoy. So part of this is having to deal with that.

lol boo hoo poor me ?

I make light of it because I’m an adult (sorta) now but it’s been my entire conscious life that I’ve felt like a disappointment to people. And now it’s…

I don’t know what to do with it, really. At the end of my life, I’d always hoped I’d have a positive influence on someone, or have made a difference in some way.

All those things I did throughout my life, things that made me different or stand out from others, the hard things I’ve been through seem to carry more meaning now. There’s a huge chunk of me that still lives in that old reality, but it seems farther away. It probably says a lot about me (and what I’ve been through) that knowing people care about me gives me more anxiety than cancer. ?

If you know me well, that probably doesn’t surprise you. I can say 100% that there’s no way I would have made it to 36 without taking care of my mental health. And now I know it’s going to help me fighting this asshole of a tumor. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to give you some advice:

• If you have feelings, see a therapist. Everyone benefits from therapy, I cannot stress this enough. It’s hard enough to be alone inside your head, get some validation and support. And keep seeing therapists until you find someone who gets you. YOU ARE WORTH IT.
• Go see the damn doctor. Don’t wait on that mammo or lump or weird symptom.
• Live life authentically. You’ll never regret standing up for yourself, showing up for a friend, or putting yourself out there.
• Get vaccinated! ‘Cuz people like me can’t and I have to rely on other people.

Bet you didn’t see that last one coming!