Beauty in the break down

Yesterday I had a breakdown. It started early in the day. There was no trigger, I just was in a funk. I cried on my way to the class I've been in for work, and cried the first few minutes of class. I had to get up and leave the room to compose myself. I texted a friend, complaining about a few things on my mind, and she did her best to console me. I managed to regain composure, and made it through the rest of my work day.

It didn't end there, though. As soon as I got in my car, I started crying again. And not just a few tears here and there, I let loose and it was just shy of an ugly cry. There was snot, gasping for breath, and desperately searching for tissues. Before driving away, I texted Danielle to vent about my breakdown, and how hard this is. Then I just wanted to get home, so I drove off. I hid behind my sunglasses so no other drivers could see me - it was my shield while I drove home to safety. Eventually I remembered one of my other new years resolutions - to ask for help when I needed it. So, I put in my headset and just started calling people. I tried about five people, and no one answered. By the time I reached number five, I left a sobbing voicemail. Not my shining moment. I was almost home, so I gave up trying to find someone to talk to. But about five minutes from home, Alicia called me back and my tears just kept flowing. She asked what was wrong and I let it all flow out. Some of the things that came out...

I've gained 10 pounds since starting chemo.
My eyelashes are falling out.
My eyebrows are thinning.
There are lines across all of my nails, basically a tally mark of how many chemo sessions I've had.
I can barely look at myself in the mirror because I'm so unhappy with what I see.

And these are only a few of the things that hit me. I have scars left on my neck from when I had a bad allergic reaction after my first chemo - so more marks to remind me of what I'm going through. I can't blow-dry or straighten what's left of my hair, because the treatment I'm doing to try to preserve it advises against that in order to protect the remaining hair from falling out. My scalp is dry and itchy, and causing dandruff, which I can't stand. I gave myself a nose bleed the other day simply from scratching my nose too hard (the chemo has made me anemic, and nose bleeds happen at least once or twice a week).

Alicia and I talked for about 10 minutes, and I allowed myself to just be with my feelings and cry with reckless abandon and embrace the shit storm that was engulfing me. I put on my pajamas, picked up Maggie to cuddle with, and watched Sex and the City while eating double stuf oreos for dinner. Later in the evening, one of the other friends I tried calling returned my call, and we talked it out. What Alicia, Chris, and Danielle had in common was that they all reminded me that it's okay to not be okay. I'm trying so hard to live life as normally as possible, without interruption, but the truth of the matter is that life isn't normal right now. I'm adjusting to what life with cancer is like, and embracing the constant changes and struggles that come with chemo. It's not an easy task, since each day brings new burdens to try to overcome, and yesterday the walls that I've tried to build up to protect myself, but mostly everyone else, came crumbling down on top of me. Because the mistake I've been making is worrying too much about everyone else, and trying to protect them from my pain and struggles. I'm trying so hard to be strong for everyone else, when in reality, I have people that are here to be strong for me when I need it. It's always been my way - to worry about everyone else more than myself. I put other's needs before my own, and right now that's only hurting me more. I know that no one really knows what to say when you tell them you have cancer, but simply having people there to remind me I don't need to be strong all the time, and to put myself first, and do what I need to do for me made all the difference in making me realize the reality of how much I'm hurting myself by not taking care of myself emotionally. Doctors all tell you to make sure to stay active during treatment, to at least take walks, but I think the mental health aspect isn't quite as emphasized, but it's equally as important.

I woke up this morning with swollen eyelids, and still a little down, but nowhere near the level that I was yesterday. I needed that good cry. This situation sucks, A LOT, there's no denying that. So, I'm warranted a few breakdowns and not being strong 100% of the time. I think that's a big part of the strength people keep telling me they see in me - I'm going to have moments where I falter and fall, but I refuse to stay on the ground. Every single time this happens, because it's happened before and it will happen again, I'll embrace it, accept it, let the tears flow freely, but then I'll eventually get back up. I remember when I decided to try to be more positive, I posted something on Facebook along the lines of "It's okay to have bad days, so long as I don't unpack and live there." and that still holds true. The bad days are just going to be a little different, and possibly a little more difficult than anything I've experienced before, and I'm learning how to deal with these emotions effectively as they come. This is the hardest thing I've experienced this far in my life, and I am not indestructible. I'm only human.

I keep telling people that I can't wait for this to be over so I can have my life back. But there's no way to speed time. It will keep moving forward as it has been, and when infusion #6 comes, I'll be ecstatic. For now, though, I just have to be patient and keep taking everything one day at a time. I will continue to drink 2-4 quarts of fluids a day, get my blood drawn, try to be diligent about washing my hands and using hand sanitizer, and making my way to all of my doctor's appointments and blood draws. I've already endured and overcome so many things that I never would've thought I could - biopsies, surgeries, and giving myself injections, among other things. Making it through chemo will be added to that list in due time. Eventually, I'll be able to look back at all of these things that I've gone through and I will be proud of them and who I've become during this journey.

Only 3 more infusions (9 weeks, or 52 days) left to go. But, who's counting? :)

Me and Maggie during last nights sob fest/cuddle session.