It’s been a bit over a year since I last posted anything on here. A year that have been absolutely wonderful and horrible at the same time.
Only 19 days after my latest post I got the news that I’ve been waiting on for the last 3 years, I finally (again) got the hear the words “You’re in remission”.
This time it’s been lasting. One year in remission today. Who would have thought?
One of the more fun things at university right now is our 5 minute poetry writing sessions/exercises. Literally we have 5 minute to produce a poem of some sort that we have to present in front of the class.
Here’s one of mines with the theme “winter”.
I can see my breath whirling in front of my face
Hearing the crisp snow crackle beneath my boots
Smelling that specific winter nights air, embracing all my senses
Tasting the coolness of the air in my mouth, drawing it deeper into my lungs
Touching every individual snowflake whilst I enjoy this cold night of winter.
I’ve been writing on this post forever, for several months in fact, debating with myself over and over again if I should post it or not.
I’ve written about some very personal things over the years, things I probably never would share in real life. I’m normally a very shy person, and to be honest emotions and things that falls outside the “this is normal emotions boarder” have never been something I like to spread around me.
But, as always, as with everyone, we suddenly – I have suddenly – reached a phase in my life where I’m trying to make up for a lot that have been haunting me for years.
It’s easy to think that being diagnosed with something as life altering as cancer would change your view about great many things in life, that it’s some sort if miraculous awakening that makes you throw away everything else. That everything else suddenly feels less important, that you from now on only can see the happy-cheerio aspects of life and that it creates some sort of drive to from now on only do good in life.
I’m sure this happens to some people, that being close to death makes them make a great deal of changes in their life. That something as disastrous as cancer makes them into a better person or whatever to call it.
This unfortunately did not happen to me. I can, and I will never be happy for the nearly 3 years of my life cancer has been taken from me so far. It have not changed me in any positive direction, if anything it have just barely worked as a big block that have provided a temporarily shield to emotions and “problems” that I’ve been covering up for as long as I can remember.
I often come across blog posts and articles about people claiming that battling cancer have been the catalyst they needed in life to make the changes they always wanted/needed to do. I respect those people with all my heart, but it have also lead to me feeling worthless, for not being able to rise up to their standards. I feel guilty for not being able to be grateful for my second chances, that I’m not able to make something good of my life. That I haven’t started to climb the road to help other people, to do volunteer work or in any way dedicate my whole being for the sake of greater good.
This is not meant to be one of those self-pitying posts (sorry if it comes across that way), I know I’m doing the best I can to get back on track, and I’m incredibly proud over myself for the changes I’ve started to make in my life – for the old skeletons I’ve started to bury – one by one – during the last couple of weeks. Skeletons I have decided I will share over the next couple of days, as soon as I can find the words enough to describe them in a not-to-ranty way.
So, if you have managed to get past this first “introductory” part – Welcome once again to my mind and thank you for continuing to follow my journey wherever it may take me.
scif1sara.wordpress.com 