Breast Cancer Has Been Very Good To Me

"Every act of conscious learning requires the willingness to suffer an injury to one's self-esteem.  That is why young children, before they are aware of their own self-importance, learn so easily." ~ Thomas Szasz

Even sugar couldn't help me yesterday. I was in a black mood all day.  When I got home, I had a card from an old high school friend of mine.  She included one of those holiday update letters that people seem to like to send.  It sounds like things are going well for her and, though I'm certainly glad for her, it further damaged the day.  It hasn't been a good year for me.  That goes without saying. I don't have any business comparing myself to her or anyone else, though.  Things are what they are. 

I'm feeling better today.  Nothing has changed, of course, but I'm not interested in questioning too much for fear of slipping down into the darkness again.  I really hate that.

I've been thinking maybe I've lost some weight in the past couple of months.  I never weigh myself.  When I started working out regularly, I actually gained weight by adding muscle mass.  I can always judge more accurately by how my clothes fit.  I put on a pair of jeans this morning and they were a little loose, even though they were just washed.  A month or so ago, I had trouble getting into them.  

I'm never hungry anymore.  I guess that's been going on since I finished up chemo.  For a while, I chalked it up to radiation, but it's been five months since that was over.  I know when my stomach is empty for too long, but I don't ever feel hungry.  It makes it difficult to tell when I've eaten enough...or too much.  After lunch, I didn't feel like eating the rest of the day.  I made myself eat a tangerine around 6:00 p.m. because I definitely didn't get enough fruits or veggies earlier.  That was all I had, though.

I generally end up feeling a little sick after I eat, so I'm really never particularly interested in food.  I'm not sure why it makes me not feel well.  My mom speculated this morning that maybe I've been worried about the upcoming surgery.  (Surgery countdown:  17 days)  I've definitely been anxious.

For a while now, I've been working hard to silence the little Fascist inside my head.   It's some remnant of my childhood self that really marshaled all of my personal forces to successfully escape from the kind of life my parents had.  I had tough expectations of myself.  Any misstep was cause for severe self denigration.  If I wasn't perfect, I was a terrible person.

The little girl in the brown shirt still thinks she needs to monitor my behavior.  Not only does she punish for current imperfections, she also has a very long memory.  I can still drift into "I'm a terrible person.  I hate myself." very easily, even for things I did when I was 8. 

However, every day now, I remind myself that I'm worthy of love.  I'm worthy of the same level of kindness I extend to everyone else.  When the little Fascist pops up, I'm more able now to stop the accusations. 

It's a sad thing that I've only recently been consistently aware of that voice.  For years, whenever my mind was unoccupied or whenever I wasn't completely pleased with my behavior, the haranguing began automatically.  I'm hardly ever completely pleased with my behavior or, if the behavior is okay, my motivations are questionable. The nasty little voice was a constant companion.

At some point, I would notice that voice, but I wasn't necessarily able to stop it.  I didn't necessarily believe that I should stop it.  Hey, it worked for me for years.  Why stop now? 

I'm stopping now because I have breast cancer.  Breast cancer has been very, very good to me. I'm a lot kinder to myself.  I've had a lot of time to sit around on my sofa and listen to whatever comes up in my head.  I don't need that voice anymore.  It's no longer critical that I work so hard to be a good person, a hard-working person, to be completely beyond reproach in every way.  It took this catastrophic illness to recognize that.  

To revisit the beginning of this post, I'm alive.  I'm not in pain.  I know for right now that I'm doing the best I can.  In some ways, it hasn't been a bad year at all. 

America held hostage day 1782

Bushism of the day:

"I'm the decider, and I decide what is best.  And what's best if for Don Rumsfeld to remain as the Secretary of Defense." ~ George W. Bush, Washington, D.C., April 18, 2006