Well here we are again. October. Breast cancer awareness month. Where everywhere you look you cannot escape those damn pink ribbons, pink shirts, pink ads. EVERYTHING pink. And while, to an outsider, someone who has not had first hand experience of the nightmare that is breast cancer, the pink overload may seem like just a sweet gesture to honor those of us who have had to endure pure hell. I know some beautiful warriors embrace the pink. But I know of a lot more that start getting PTSD the closer October gets every year. We cannot look anywhere for a whole month without being reminded of our nightmare. I am one of those people. My Facebook feed is full of every other ad showing something to buy that pertains to breast cancer. Every where you go shopping there are signs and displays to remind you of that time in your life when you wasn't sure if you would be alive in a year. A time in your life you would love to never be reminded of again.
For me, a now 2x survivor, it only enhances my PTSD. Also both of my diagnosis came in November, two years apart, so in general this time of year is very hard on me. And then to look around every corner of my life and see the pink shit thrown in my face, almost as if taunting me. You beat me twice.... think you can do it again? That is my daily demon. Will it come back again. If so, the odds of beating it that 3rd time are not real great. Of course this time they said they got it.... again. Just as I was told they got it all three years ago as well. So you just never fucking know. And this, my friends, is the reality of a breast cancer survivor. Not pink ribbons, bright shiny happy colors, or anything that resembles any sort of fun.
Breast cancer survivors have been through more surgeries than most people have in a lifetime. We have been ran through every scan machine and have sat in more doctor's offices than we care to count. Sitting there praying to God that the cancer is gone, or hasn't spread, or just isn't there at all. We have had multiple poisons put into our bodies to kill the cancer and hope that it doesn't also kill us in the process. We have been burnt so deeply that more than likely there is some type of permanent damage to the bones, skin, heart, or other organs, along with the massive nerve pain that may never resolve. We have lost our hair, our breasts, and in some cases our reproductive parts as well, due to our cancer being hormone fed. Thus the need to remove anything in our bodies that could possibly produce hormones to feed the beast.
This October for me has been extremely hard. With the combination of just finishing up treatments for my second battle in the midst of Covid, while getting sober, it has been the loneliness time in my entire life. I now, for the first time in my life understand people who feel hopeless and alone and like no one cares or understands. I am living it. I am very thankful for my mom and my sister. And I get it. People have their own lives. As we grow older, people have their husbands and children to rely on. Most people's friends are now their spouses and children. Friends are for people in their 20's and 30's. I neglected my relationships and family a lot in my life to nurture friendships when I should have been doing the opposite and I may not be alone now This is a lesson I have learned the hard way and now I have to learn how to make a new life for myself. And I know now what relationships are worth nurturing. Life is hard right now. I live alone, I work alone, sobriety voids a lot of friendships and invitations, although I am okay around alcohol, it seems to make other people uncomfortable. And you add Covid to the mix and it's a perfect storm. I know it will get better. But I also know that I am going to have to make some hard decisions and changes.
I left town two weeks ago to just get away. Off the grid and a much needed change of scenery. I just returned home and I realized I only missed my big bed and TV in the bedroom LMAO! There was absolutely not another thing that I missed in two weeks about this town. This tells me I am ready to move on. Being here seems to no longer benefit my mental health. There are a few things that were holding me here. One was my oncologist that I love. I returned home to a letter in the mail stating that my oncologist is retiring at the end of November. As if 2020 wasn't bad enough, I'm now losing my one doctor I had full faith in. So staying for my oncologist is now not an obstacle. My last obstacle is of course the most important, my job. But I have been working from home for almost a year now with no problems at all. Hopefully that may continue to be an option for me. But right now those are still conversations that will need to be had if I truly decide it's time to move.
So 13 more days of Pink PTSD and we can move on to the holidays, which is usually a whole another type of PTSD. LOL But thankfully, not this year! The whole fam bam will be on the beach this year for Christmas and I couldn't be more excited for a real vacation!
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