Remember the time I had cancer?
Well, I do. And I don't. I remember that I had it. I remember the high points. I had a lumpectomy and 15 chemotherapy treatments. My hair fell out. I moved to St. Louis for 6 weeks to do 30 radiation treatments. But the important stuff, the stuff that really matters, has become foggy. I'll catch a glimpse in my mind's eye of "Chemo-Beck" on the couch or in the bed. A fleeting memory of aches and pains and fear and worry and vulnerability creep in every now and then.
For Kelley, it is clear and just like yesterday. For me, it almost seems like someone else's story.
When I was sixteen, for Christmas my mother gave me a journal. The inscription inside reads "For those days when talking just isn't enough." It is filled with the musings of a whiny teenager and numberous folded sheets of paper, poems and story ideas, proof that even twenty years ago Beck had deep thoughts. It's painful to read though. Not because the entries are tragic but because the problems I had at sixteen that tortured me enough to write about have long since been resolved, and generally weren't real problems to begin with. But when I wrote about them, I'm sure I thought my world was falling apart. I don't need to read about them though. That's actually part of the beauty of writing. Having the ability to talk it out, cleanse your soul, walk through it with freedom to say how you really feel, even if it's wrong or misguided. And then walk away from it with the securtiy of knowing what you've poured from your soul through the pen in your hand is there until you decide you don't need it anymore.
October 4, 2011, my book, Me And The Ugly C, was released on http://www.amazon.com/ and http://www.barnesandnoble.com/. It is available to be downloaded as an eBook to any eReader, Kindle, Nook, to an iPhone, iPad, or computer. It is also being formatted now for print and will soon be available by Print On Demand on amazon.com (hopefully by Christmas). What's it about? Well, it's about me. What it really is, though, is that sixteen year old's journal, just written from the heart of a thirty-six year old.
I was speaking to one of my clients recently about the book and in conversation mentioned that my kids had yet to read it. That's when I heard my daughter's voice behind me say quietly "I don't have to read it. I live it."
Yes, Baby. You did.
I suppose my point is that I have learned throughout my journey with breast cancer and my visits with other fighters and survivors, through heart to heart talks with clients as I hold their hand in mine, while I do their nails, that everyone has their own trials and tribulations. No one is excluded from heartache or worry. But neither are they excluded from joy and blessings and fulfillment of dreams. It's just that life happens so fast, we don't always notice it all. Everyone has a story worth telling. Me And The Ugly C just happens to be mine.
So I encourage you to give yourself a gift. Buy yourself a journal. Open a fresh notebook. Pick out a favorite pen. And on those days when talking just isn't enough, write your story. Give yourself permission to lay it all out, the good, the bad and the petty. And when you've put your woes in words, close the chapter and move on. I suspect that when you take the time to reread where you have been, it'll give you a little insight into how strong you really are and how far you've come.