Wednesday, December 16, 2015


In the last month, I have been in the hospital about 3 weeks; divided by 3 differerent visits.  I am fatigued like I have never been before for several reasons.

Some reasons you may know, others maybe not. I have been wanting to write anout everything, but just haven't had it in me.

A part of me feels like it has given up. This isn't just something I have noticed, others have, too. I have been asked my reason to live, and have come up empty. All I am doing is strugglingto live/survive.

I have been told to "live," but when mostly all my body wants to do is sleep, and other not so great things are going on, the idea of that is more torturous than liberating or helpful or affirming. 

I went to the grocery store yesterday, and it knocked me out. The limitations have made me sad. They've also frustrated me.   

It seems almost silly to write about anything at this point. I released a friendship of sorts the other day because it couldn't be more clear there was no understanding or empathy for me/my situation. That alone was bad enough. But any time I tried to explain how I felt, I was accused of "drama."

I do not need that. I could possibly deal without the support, but having someone further kick the legs out from underneath me does not work. 

I realize the person may not be able to handle facing what I face, but I am not in a position to handle that right now. I can barely handle it myself.

I can barely handle anything right now.

Friday, December 4, 2015

Watching is not the same

You may work at a gas station, and watch people run out of gas. You may watch their reactions. You may think you   understand how others in that situation feel. 

Odds are, most have no clue, and you thinkinging you do only removes you from  oossibility of truly understanding, and keeps you from allowing and appreciating what another experiences - defaulting to what you rather see for another rather than what their reality truly is.

My laying in bed is nothing more than my ability to barely move. It isn't laziness or sadness,or...any number of other seemingly negative connotations.  

Just beause i am out of the hospital without a scar, ir does not mean I am ok. I wish more people could unswerstand thst.

Sunday, November 8, 2015


On my way to treatment last time, I ate a Wendy's single burger. It really helped my stomach settle; that and the medicine. 

On my way back, I felt really sick. It was getting close to medicine time, but I also decided I was craving Wendy's. By the time I had both, I was feeling so much better.

Last night, I had barely eaten, but I was was craving...Wendy's. So in the middle of the night, guess where I went?

I am not sure if it is the childhood comfort food, or something else, but I am grateful for the relief it brings on some level.if it wasn't fpr the fact that I just took some heavy duty medicine, I might even be out there now.

Friday, November 6, 2015

The Boxes

No one cares - until it is something that affects them DIRECTLY. Until then, it is "someone else's problem." There is  often very little compassion or empathy or understanding or anything remotely helpful when it comes to things that are problematic, and do not fit the expected mold. Try to go against the mold, and you may be sorry. But go with it, and you might give up a piece of your soul, and be even be mocked for it.

These words likely carry little, if any, value because the value mostly hits the minute a person finds him/herself on the receiving end of having a need that does not fit another's perception of what is perceived to be what is "supposed" to be. Up until then, the words exist in the air. Until then, all kinds of justifications can show up. Until then, a lot can sound a lot better than it comes anywhere close to truly being. Situations and words can even be spirirtually twisted to sound good.

So many things to give us every reason, but be compassionate, understanding, giving, empathic...

It is very hard to live in a world in which I rarely ever fit the mold. Worse, it is harder to live in a world that all too frequently forfeits  opportunities to stretch ourselves  and love others - especially those in great need. 

There are times my questions for being here, alive, are very personal. But there are times, the questions are much greater. It is very hard to live in a world of people who all too often see past the pain that is right in front of them. It is very hard to live within a world that says to only focus on the positive as a way to supposedly bring more, while a lot of sadness, despair, and other similiar things exist in such incredible amounts.

Maybe we are meant - like David with Golaith - to stare them down. Maybe we are supposed to do something about them. But, instead, we act as though if we look the other way it does not exist. If we look the other way, we can see the shiny things. If we look the other way, only what we see is what will be. 

All the while, we forget, or do not realize, that what is behind us can sneak up, and change our reality in a heartbeat. Until then, though, it is all too easy to judge others. It is all too easy to go with the accepted parameters. It is easy to go with the flow, as long as you are a part of it.

But beware the minute you are not. The thing is, the deafening roar of change will likely be upon you long before you ever realize who you are, how you are, and what life has become has all changed in such a way that not only do you no longer fit THE box, others will still desperately try to put you there, or perhaps worse, they will just ignore you because you no longer fit.

Even worse will be those who will ignore these words all together because their proposed reality seems off base, out of touch, easily allowing the silence and ignorance to continue.

Yes. This is written by someone in need. That, for some, makes it easy to criticize or ignore. But why would someone not in need address a need - especially since there is often a blindness to it?

But where there is blindness there often is also deafness. It is what makes me wonder how we cross lines without really crossing them? And yet, it would seem we may have some who can and do.

I do not know how much longer I have in this world, but it would be nice to see the people in it shift so we were more about helping each other than trying to "win " by seeing how many damn boxes we can seem to fit, or appear to help others squeeze into.

Sunday, October 4, 2015

The Illusion of Help

It is Pinktober, and I am seeing a lot of backlash from those dealing with breast cancer. Pinktober has become an event that permeates everything more for the purpose of an economic bottom line than the purpose of helping human beings who really need the help. 

However, the reason the former works is because there is the illusion of the latter.

There are so many pieces of a cancer experience that relate to the experiences of others. Is it an exact correlation? Often it is not, but that is no reason to disregard it, although we often do juat that.

I saw a TED talk in which the speaker said we should stop trying to measure and compare levels of pain. "Pain is pain." I would agree. So often people will compare themselves to me, and find one of us lacking. Which one will depend on their perspective.  

They might feel badly about how they feel about their circumstances because "it's not cancer." But it is whatever it is for them, and all that relates to that, and that is all that matters, really.

I suspect part of the reason things like Pinktober "work" is because people want to "feel good" about helping another, but in the least inconvenient way.

To find out that much of the prevailing pinkness doesn't help those who need the help would take too much effort. If they say it helps, it must, right?

I think I previously wrote about a commercial I had heard about how walking a lot miles was going to help another. When I heard that I was like, "what?" 

But I deal with cancer.  I deal with the constant idea that others have that there is so much help "out there." I deal with the effects of the illusions painted by many companies and organizations that they actually help.

And, as tough as this is for me to say, this extends somewhat to the whole "prayer" thing. I saw something in relation to the recent Oregon shootings that I immediately related to. One might think how could there be a relationship, or that painting a relationship was inappropriate. But there was a piece that was relateable, in the same way that "pain is pain."

It said something about how this person did not want to hear any more about "thoughts and prayers," they wanted someone to DO something. 

It was a bold statement for anyone to make. It is one I wish I could have boldly said. It is one that I bet many others in many other situations that require actions and some sort of doing that receive the prayer default probably wish they could also say.

This is not to minimize, or put down prayer. But to point out that people have elevated it to a place that often leaves people hanging. If everyone is praying for "someone" to help, and they are not that someone, who is going to be?

If the people who can make a difference default to prayer, and do nothing, then who is going to? The problem, in some part, is that prayer appears to be doing something, because we have allowed that "standard." 

We can get by by using it because we also let others slide, and use it, too. And if it starts to be questioned, we can't use our "go to" any more. We actually have to do something different.

I guess how "doing" something is defined would be something to consider. Is prayer something that is "done?" One might argue the answer is absolutely a yes. So if we go with that answer, my next question is, is it enough?

When you know another is in deep need, is it enough to stand on the sidelines cheering them on? When you know something is not right, and you could do something to directly impact that person's situation/reality, and you don't, why not? Do you argue that what you would do, could do, wouldn't matter? How about letting the person in need be the judge of that?

I think there can, at times, be a collective "shrug" when it comes to the situations of others. If is easy to shrug when the situation does not involve you. It is easy to minimalize, rationalize, ignore all kinds of things that do not directly affect you.

I was in a very different place in regard to life's dilemmas pre-cancer. Tragedies tend to inform. They often serve as wake-up calls for those closest to it. The trickiest part is when those now "awake" try to awaken others who are still asleep, and would prefer to stay that way. No one likes to awaken to a nightmare, and feel helpless.

Feeling helpless is no excuse not to act, but we use it as one. We use it as a way to keep our distance. We pray and leave things up to God, so if things don't work out, I've done my part, and it's not my fault.

To move outside of prayer is to move into a world of repercussions, judgments, realities we'd rather not face. We might find ourselves disappointed, or disappointing others. It means taking a risk. It means going outside the comfort zone. It means extending ourselves, sharing ourselves. 

It means sometimes what others want and need (food and shelter) is more important in that moment than our Starbucks Latte. It means maybe one less night out a month. It means looking at the fact that you have a nice home that stays at 80 all winter, and there is another dealing with cancer who can't pay their heating bill. Could you maybe lower the thermostat and help that person out? Or maybe you even have the means to help them out, any way?

It sucks to see the reality other people face, but that doesn't mean we should ignore it. It also doesn't mean we should help every, single person who asks. 

The biggest problem I see for a situation like this is that those who agree with me are likely to be those who have some kind of need. And those who do not have the kind of understanding a major need creates run the risk of walking away from this thinking about what I said, but then doing nothing different, because there is no pressing need to. As a matter of fact, it would be do much more comfy to go back under the covers, and go back to sleep.

Whether or not that happens, who  knows? Some people have good intentions. I am just not sure where empathy shows up, when it does. And I am not sure why it doesn't.

I think empathy is the bridge between someone like me, and someone who has no clue what it is like to be someone like me. And sometimes the bridge is never built, and other times it is not crossed.

Life is interesting, though. You never know when you might be awakened, and unable to go back to sleep, and desperately wanting and needing others to wake up, too.

Sounds kinda like a bad thing, doesn't it? I am not sure it is. Will have to think on that a bit...

Saturday, October 3, 2015


In my dreams a couple nights ago, I dreamt I told someone I never minded working hard, it just was hard now with the way I feel.

I had found my way - not on purpose - to where they moved a department to. Someone was surprised it was my first time there. Where I was was seemingly part office, part my college, part hospital. 

I felt like I was on the run. And, at some point, I was wearing a hospital gown, and after I pulled the privacy curtain, two doctor-like people showed up. 

I wasn't there for anything, so I knew that whatever they wanted to do wasn't for me. I tried to show them the bracelet with my name, but the name was wrong. I tried to tell them there was a mistake, but they were acting like I was wrong, and I needed attention, and when I was refusing it, that made them come after me more. 

As I was running away, a woman gave me some sort of tracking device that I just threw away from me. I couldn't seem to get away. At some point, "it" was over, and I saw a piece of paper that said I was something. I can't remember the word, but it symbolized "rebel" and not good in the eyes of the law system. As a matter if fact, it put me on their "suspect" list.

I was disappointed. The woman started to talk to me about going forward. I guess I was "free" to go, other than the fact that I was now seen to be this thing. 

I was also upset, and I said she did not know who I was in my heart, because if she did, they would not have labelled me that way. There had been some point (I think prior to that) that I stared her down, and told her that no matter what they said, or tried to convince me of, or was  convinced of, I was not going to change/see things differently. I said that what I wrote was for perspective, and to inform.

They were definitely making me question who I was, and my reality, and it was really scary, even more so because they seemed so calm, measured, assured - even friendly and caring. 

I am not sure how to take this dream. A part of me does feel part rebel. At the same time, I worked with someome spiritually this past week, and it shook up a part of me in a big way. Things I believed/took for granted, I can't any more - much to the discomfort of a part of me who has likely believed the stuff most of my life - if not all of it.  

Friday, October 2, 2015

They Do it Any Way

I once worked for a company that was financially struggling. Because I knew that they were, I asked them to please give me some warning if they weren't going to need me any more. It seemed to me a reasonable request.

After a long Labor Day weekend, I had just bought my monthly commuter ticket, and went to the office, like I always did. The ticket, by the way, not cheap, but worth it travelling into NYC as much as I did.

Well. I get into the office only to be told, "Effective immediately, we don't need you any more." Given I was technically freelance, there was no severance, no Unemployment. No nada.

And I just paid for the damn monthly ticket I no longer needed. Although they did tell me I was welcome to use the office, if I needed to/wanted to. 

I gave it a few days, and then decided to go in. The date? September 11. 2001. I never made it. I don't think I even made it into the city again that month.

I was sharing this because I recently heard of a number of people who came back from hiatus only to find themseles unemployed. Why do companies - which are made up of freaking people - do these kinds of things? No one would want this done to them, and yet they seem to think nothing of doing it any way.

This wasn't the only time something like this happened to me. Interesting how I always heard that I should treat "companies" right, but they could treat me any which way they wanted to.

There were a few things I missed here and there about having a JOB, but that lack of mutual respect certainly wasn't one of them.

Monday, September 28, 2015

All I Can Ever Ask

I have been sleeping a lot. The Vicoden has a tendency to knock me out. As opposed to not being able to sleep, I suppose it is in some, odd way preferable.

But the thing is...it is disorienting. I don't really know what time of day it is, other than when I look, but even then I might be surprised to see it is nine in the morning, but it feels like afternoon. 

This isn't just an occasional thing; this becoming the all too normal norm.  

On top of it all, I am taking Vicoden every 4 hours, or so. Oddly, if I fall asleep, I wind up waking up at just about that 4 hour mark. There are times before that mark I am uncomfortable, but I try to stretch it a bit, without winding up in the deep end of pain.

Tonight I would have loved chicken fingers for dinner. But I have run out. There are other things I have run out of, too, and really should get to the store. Being back on chemo is around the corner, and it will be good to have some pre-made food. 

It all sounds good, but making it happen - well, that will be the trick.

In between everything, I keep trying to tell   myself it will be ok. That I will be ok. It is not an easy conversation I have with myself. While Vicoden is helping with the pain, it is causing other issues, and I am concerned about it being paired with chemo.

A part of me, I think, is in denial. It is about the only way I think I can get through this right now. Even writing this, and admitting to it, is making me emotional.

At least, though, I had set out to raise $500 to try an alternative type of treatment that I will do in conjuction with chemo, and thankfully, the funds for this month were raised. I will need to do it two more months, at least, and am not looking forward to asking, but did see how asking gave me something I had all but given up on. So I will need to find whatever it takes in me to extend myself again closer to the time I will need it.

There are moments I am just so incredibly appreciative of those who step-up. It means so much to me when so many - the majority - just get silent. 

I am so grateful for these step-up people. I could never have made it this far without them. 

At the same time, I am terrified. I need help more than ever because I can't do as much as I was doing. If silence is golden in my times of need, what is going to happen if I get to a point that I can't take care of myself?

It is really hard to convey my situation, if I do not choose to speak of it certain ways. But it truly could be getting to a point of life and death, and that is why the alternative I mentioned above is so crucial. 

Will it save me? Who knows? But I have to at least try. But if things deteriorate, I am just not sure how much trying I will be willing to do. The pain more than sucks. Why I have the pain in the first place sucks even more.

It is very difficult to not be terrified in the midst of terror. I guess that is partly why I am writing what I am, in the hope that I can deal with it, release it...something, anything - other than letting it do what it has been doing - other than trying to bury it.

It really sucks that pretty much every freaking thing I do requires thought, and maybe even a bit of planning. Things you take for granted when healthy, become like a boulder to get around, over, or to be carried. Even standing up and walking often has to be contemplated.

Not sure why I am bothering to tell you these things. I suspect there is a diligent part of myself that really hopes that somewhere along the line people will have an "a-ha!" and suddenly I will be flooded with empathy and tangible help, instead of the words that mean nothing that so many offer that they somehow think help. 

I keep thinking somehow they have to know that posting some damn meme on Facebook about cancer often doesn't do a damn thing for someone dealing with it. But to admit it might mean having to admit to being helpless, or not knowing what to do, so it might be unlikely to be seen for the mostly ineffective thing it is.

Believe me, though, if you truly want to be a help, and not feel helpless, there are likely to be some tangible things you could do, if you just ask the person what s/he wants/needs. It may take more than a few strokes on a device, but will likely be infinitely more appreciated than a graphic or a few generic words.

In raising $500, one person alone asked 3 different people who did not know me if they'd help to the tune of $50 each. Her personal request got results. 

I know others have asked, only to be told no, or shot down. So I know it is no simple matter. I also know complete strangers have given me more than many who know me longer, better - many of which have given nothing. Nothing. Despite requests for even just $1.

I realize there are complex dynamics in situations like these, but really, they should be quite simple: a person needs help: help them. Of course, you may mot be able to do it every time, with every person, but I'd be willing to bet most people can do more than they do - especially if they're doing nothing. And it doesn't have to be a grand event. It might just be something small - but to the person in need it might just mean everything.

My current requests might just mean the difference between life and death, and I'd say that you can be more significant to a person than you may realize.

To those who have helped in any way, please know I thank you. I value any offering of any size. I think nothing less of a person who gives me $1 than a person who gives $100. I also do not think less of anyone who chooses to remain silent in regard to me/my situation/my requests. They have their reasons, just in the same way that someone who gives has theirs.

I feel the need to say this, as I am afraid I may in some way offend someone, or come off wrong in what I have said. As I acknowledged, things like this are complex, and I only say, and share, the stuff I do as perspective on a topic that is rarely ever addressed.

If you are doing what you can/the best you can - in relation to anyone - that is all I can ever ask.

Ps If you want to help me get a jumpstart on next month, you can at Heartsgiving.com  Thank you.

I miss "normal"

It's 4:44 am. I have been awake about 20 minutes. It has been a restless night. I was dreaming about having a "normal" head. What that means, exactly, I am not sure, but in the dream, I was feeling as "normal" as I might have years ago.

It has me thinking about the life I took for granted. The sunrises and sunsets I did not fully appreciate as I made my way to and from work. It has me thinking about the "busy-ness" of my life, having to think about what I would do for lunch, where I might stop for breakfast, the anxiety of potentially being late for work. It has me thinking about late Friday nights that led to Saturday morning sleep ins. It has me think about how wonderful it was to be paid. It has me think about the few times I got really sick and wound up on my butt, and how wonderful it was to feel better, although I never probably fully appreciated the "getting better" part.  

I am so tired of feeling sick. I am so tired of being tired. I woke up to discomfort, and the results of using MOM last night. I went from not going to the other extreme. 

I think I feel better now, but it's hard to tell. I took some more Vicodin. Vicodin has been my friend around the clock since it showed up, and is likely the reason for having to use MOM.

I saw people annoyed last night that they could not see the moon because of clouds. It must be nicer than they realize to be annoyed at something like that. 

People dealing with life and death issues were less likely to be among the annoyed. In my case, I looked, couldn't see it, and shrugged. There were other things to focus on/concern myself with. 

It might seem that I am judging them, but it is more that I am sharing a perspective. When you are caught up in living life a certain way, you don't always recognize the good stuff, and it is all too easy to complain about stuff not worth the effort.  

I miss having other things to focus on beside pain, going to the doctor/treatment, supplements/pills, going to bathroom, drinking enough, how I am going to eat, and sleeping.

Saturday, September 26, 2015

A dream

I had a dream last night. My grandmother, who has been dead for years, was alive, but in a coma-like state, dying. My sister was sitting with her until I got there, and she left because "tomorrow is going to be a long day." The  implication was that my grandmother was going to die the next day.

When she left, my grandmother seemed to "wake up." It  it appeared to be a miracle. I had heard of people perking up before dying, and hoped that this was not that.

I was so happy she was alive.

I had other dreams, too, that I can't quite remember...just bits and bobs work their way through my consciousness.

Friday, September 25, 2015

My First Time Using a Trimmer

got tired of my Heat Miser hair. For the first time ever, I used a trimmer. This was the result. You can't really tell, but there are many thinned areas on my head, so I won't be out in public like this for a while. The new chemo apparently doesn't have the hair loss side effect, so I guess my hair will grow back.

I look happier in this picture than I actually feel. It has been quite a day, and I have taken my first Vicoden. Oh. What. Fun. I was concerned about masking the pain, but apparently, if what I take stops working, that is the way the docs know things got worse. Lovely, ain't it?

My plan is to take as little as possible, as infrequently as possible. Just knowing I have it, though, I have to hope is a good thing. Other times I will be trying to use Ibuprofen, and hopefully that will help, too.

(For anyone who doesn't know...this is Heat Miser)

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Going Through Stuff...

I am in pain. And not just physical. I wrote a letter to my mother last night that I will never send. 

There were moments I was acutely aware of irony as well as my lack of empathy and compassion. But I just did not give a fuck.

I allowed whatever came out, and a lot of it really surprised, even shocked, me. I had no idea of the crap that was inside of me after all of the years trying to moderate and cope with the issues that have arisen in relation to my mother and my life.

Our relationship has never been an easy one. Even times things seemed better were only preludes to my feeling worse. I suppose it could have something to do with the fact that things were never fully healed, maybe only partially, or at times the numbing strength was stronger.

I don't really know. It just seems to be the largest onion ever. 

I have wondered how much of this cancer dance has to do with my mother, and family. Much of my physical pain is near my belly button. Every time I consider her, the pain intensifies, and it is not limited to just her, either.

I am not sure about this cause and effect thing, but I am not sure I can discount it, either.

I am feeling emotional, angry...sad. Someone on Facebook spoke of an exercise in which they wrote a letter to someone, and then turned it around, writing their response.

I did not want to consider my mom's response. In my anger, she did not deserve a voice. She did not deserve compassion, understanding, empathy. She deserved nothing.

I also did not want to take away from what I was feeling by going to "her side." I have already done that too much, at the cost of not recognizing my own feelings.

I will not linger in this crap, and I will not re-bury it. It needs to be let go, and I will do just that, when the time is right.

A part of me wants to scream, "I fucking hate you..." and a lot more. I want to share it, but am acutely aware how public this post is. There is a reason I am not sending her that letter. I have felt a lot of ugly stuff. Heavy, dark stuff.

Stuff that is likely more about me than it is about her. She doesn't need to have written confirmation of how I feel. 

I have often told people I know how they feel about me, and they don't need words to confirm. Even though I wasn't conscious of this stuff, I wonder if she could feel my anger and disdain. It is apparent to me now that I apparently do not think much of my mother - at least when coming from the place the letter was written.

I am grateful that this stuff has come forward. I just wish it hadn't taken so long to get here. I wish I had a punching bag to beat the crap out of right now.

I share this to share my process, and what is going on with me. I am in awe of the flood of emotion that came pouring forth. I do not share this to have anyone give me her side, or have anyone try to fix me/things. If you are inclined that way, thank you, but please don't. I will get there when I get there.

I hate even saying this stuff, but if I don't, I think there is a good chance unsolicited, unwanted comments will show up, and I am just not "there" at the moment. 

People often think public sharing is an invitation for their opinion/input. Probably it's at least in part because we have people looking to "engage the readers." Articles and blogs often end with, "What do you think? Let us know."

Then there are those who see problems as things to fix. Why else would someone share their problem? And those who see fixing a problem as loving another.

It can be good stuff, but most likely it will do its best work when it is welcome. In this world, it often seems that the default is perceived to be "welcome." Maybe for some that works.

As for me, most of the time unsolicited help is not wanted, and often anything less than helpful.

Harsh words, perhaps. No one is supposed to say these things, even if they are "true." It just comes off bitchy and ungrateful and other delightful things.

Well. I am not meaning to be harsh. Just wanting to be clear that I am only sharing, and not looking for help. There is a big difference, and it would be great if we could be clear with each other, honest with each other, and not have it be looked at in a negative way.

Am I being defensive? Perhaps. But I also feel like I need to be right now. But I also think this is a conversation that is often so much easier to avoid. 

My guess is, though, that many more people would speak up and out if they felt it safe to do so. Unsolicited stuff often makes the idea feel most unsafe.

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

I Noticed Something...

WARNING: This post may be TMI for some. I recommend you only proceed  with an open mind. 

I noticed something about when I feel pain. If I can bring myself to an erotic place, and especially if I orgasm, the pain I feel is greatly minimized.

I figured it must have something to do with the hormones in one's body at times like that. Upon investigation, apparently it is a "known" thing, and has a lot to do with endorphins.

(I found this while looking https://www.sharecare.com/health/sex-orgasm/how-orgasm-help-relieve-pain)

It is a paradoxical place to be, feeling awful, and seeking pleasure. It certainly takes focus and concentration, as the pain is wanting to be known. But it can so be worth the effort.

It's too bad I can't walk around in a constant state of arousal :p Having said that, though, I can't help but wonder how this knowledge could be put to better use. It would seem to be a better/safer choice than many drugs.

I recently got a prescription for Vicoden, and to say I am less than thrilled is an understatement. But the pain has been more than I can deal with way too often. It can't do my body good to be almost constantly hurting.

Thank goodness the endorphins, and how they bring the closest thing to peace I get these days.  

Those we speak of

I just saw something that tells of criticism of Tracy Morgan for not being in touch with the family of a close friend who died in an accident he was in. The criticism extended to Tracy also not mentioning the friend, or his family, at the Emmys.

I have no idea why things have been the way they are, but I can't help but wonder, if Tracy was as close to the person as it seems/sounds, how difficult it must be to process his death - on top of every other traumatic thing he has had to deal with.

We all think our opinions and pains and perspectives are warranted. But when we judge another without knowing the depth of their experience, I suspect there is a good chance we may be dealing more with our own selves than those we speak of.

Monday, September 21, 2015

Eggs and Orange Juice

In the world of comfort foods, the combination of eggs and orange juice does something for me. I would almost include toast, but I rarely ever eat just plain white bread any more, toasted or not. Although just thinking of it is sounding better than I might have thought it would.

I am not sure why that is, exactly. Maybe because growing up more often than not I ate cereal, and eggs and toast were special occasion or for the weekend. 

Maybe I somehow felt special. I do not really know. It is just one of those things apparently.

So why am I talking about this at two in the morning? I just made myself an egg, and complemented it with orange juice.

I do not like eating at this time of night, but my stomach was not happy, and after what happened earlier, sleep has been a slightly scary proposition. I am fairly wide awake.

Probably not a great thing that I am laying in a dark room lit by a phone screen. Well. At least it complements the food that I just ate at a not great hour.

Chicken Fingers & Jesus

I was in tears earlier. This has not been a good day physically. I posted something on Facebook, took something for the pain, and went to sleep. 

When I woke up I was doing better. So much so, I made these Chicken Fingers. Energy-wise it took pretty much all I had, but I was grateful I had it. They turned out rather yummy actually. If I can get around to publishing an update for my recipes, I think I'll need to include the one for these. 

They were perfect with homemade Honey Mustard Dressing (so easy to make). And now I have some in the freezer for another couple of meals.

The way I felt earlier today makes it very hard to want to keep going. It felt, I felt, helpless.

When I get to a different place, it is amazing how different it can feel. Compared to before, it is a big difference.
I question how it is that things "work," but it seems like such a futile exercise.

We want to know how things work, so we can make them work, but I just don't know it works that way. I Googled, "how did Jesus heal?" and I did not get a straight forward answer. 

The fact is, though, if you believe in Jesus, you know he DID heal. You know he also overcame death. Does it really matter HOW it happened, or just that it did?

At the times I am suffering, I would love to know the how. I would love the suffering to stop. Pain is greedy for attention. In pain, there is nothing else. It can be blinding.

I could deal with discomfort a lot better than I can deal with pain. 

Whenever you are aware of me, please see me without tumors, without cancer, without pain. See me living - and enjoying - life. I realize the reality I share doesn't look like that at the moment, but I can - you can - always hope for a healing shift.

My newest thing? I keep telling myself, "My body is always healing itself." I figure this is a good thing to think, as it requires no particular state to start from. A healthy person can tell themselves the same words, and it "fits."

So, if you will, imagine my body always healing itself. 


I was scared...

I was scared I was going to die at the hands of something I was handling.

I was dreaming, only asleep about an hour. In the dream I was handed something that did not seem so scary at first, but was then told that they were dangerous. It was as if they'd explode. 

I LITERALLY took off running. Out of bed, down the steps, into the kitchen. I was at least half asleep, terrified, and don't know where I was going. I just had to get away. Thankfully I was wearing something, and did not run outside.

My heart was pounding. I couldn't catch my breath. I woke my friend up. He asked what happened. It was hard to explain. Everything was OK, at least kinda.

Hard to wake up and be clear about "reality." 

What a metaphor. What a "reality."

Not sure about going to sleep now. Thank goodness I did not hurt myself. 

Thursday, September 17, 2015

Last Night...

I dreamt Donald Trump was fading away. 

I awoke to hearing this morning he did not do so well in the debate?

Will be curious to see what happens. Even more curious was that, if I remember right, he seemed to be choosing to back away...or at least, seemed OK with what was happening.

Something to Think About?

Did someone ever do something in relation to you that you found annoying even though...at some time, or another, you were likely just as guilty of doing something similar? And, further, you recognized this inconvenient fact, but we're still annoyed?

If so, you know a bit about how I am feeling at the moment.

It is all too easy at times to be caught up in one's own stuff to be aware that someone, over there, is going through their own stuff. In general, it happens. But I think the times I find it most annoying is when someone comes at me in a "business" kind of way. 

These days I am not thinking about business stuff, of anyone's. Many days I am tired, and in pain. It is hard to think of anyone/anything. I have often been one to try to help others, but this is where I get torn. If I can't think about your "business" stuff, then perhaps that can also translate to I can't think about "you." That sounds uncomfortably selfish and self-centered.

But it's not like I don't think of others, at all. I also think about the instructions for oxygen maskuse on a plane. A person who will be helping another needs to help themselves first. We can't necessarily help another, if we don't help ourselves first. And yet, many times a focus on ourselves is labelled selfish.

Selfish. In a bad way. Rarely is selfish ever considered a "good" thing.

At the same time I am asking for support, I am contracting. I am pulling away. I am not actively engaged in the things of others. I have even considered unliking a number of Facebook pages I liked just to be nice and supportive to cut down on the "noise," at least for now.

I feel like much of external life is a distraction. I can't help but wonder if I am supposed to be focusing on me more. I can't help but wonder if my focus on others has taken me away from me. This is not to say I believe that this is how my life should have been, or should be, but rather to question how much the focus on others may have been a distraction technique.

Have you ever noticed how a lot of stuff that has you look at you, has you look at you through a business, or other person, context? What would it be to focus on you, for you? Probably pretty uncomfortable. It can be uncomfortable even in the "other" contexts.

Is it possible to know who you are without a context, or a reflection? So much of who I have come to acknowledge myself to be has come through experiences and interactions with others. What they said or did had me step back and consider stuff. This reflection then resulted in a deeper understanding of myself, and where I stood, and wanted to stand.

Could I have figured these things out without it? I am not sure. You don't often realize something until something (someone) says, "hey, look!" Without things that have happened in my life, I may not have ever recognized the times I did something that was unenlightened or came from fear, or was based on a misunderstanding.

Sometimes it takes someone or something outside of us to show us our blind spots. Recently someone told me that I DO have the right to hate my mother. That is such a strong, powerful statement. Who would ever say that?! She also took it a step further by telling me I could choose to release her from my anger and hatred. That would allow there to be no judgment on either side.  

To say these things puts me off balance. Becoming conscious of things is rarely easy. Often they're at odds with what we've been told "should be." I have a better shot at a "should be" with my mom this way than trying to force it in some way. It is likely why I am so at odds with myself about her, and have been, most of my life. I was trying to "force" it with no "real" foundation to build upon. That is probably why times things seemed to improve, the wheels just fell off.

I will leave you with something to consider. Before you put on your business hat and make an unsolicited call, before you send out your unsolicited form business letter, try to find out what may be going on with a person. Before you offer a sales pitch of a product or company as their solution, consider you might be one of more than way too many. 

Most people dealing with an illness do not appreciate feeling like a walking target. The approach, while likely well-intended, is often not as well received as you may like. I have gone to networking meetings offering a service for others dealing with cancer. What I get back is often those who want to interact with me not because of what I have to offer, but because they hear "cancer" and figure I can become a customer, and use what they got. It has been disheartening.

It is also difficult to receive those unsolicited calls and emails. I am never sure how to respond, and I have started not to. Since they obviously have no clue what is going on with me, I am guessing they'll never notice what I do/don't do. It is not the way I prefer to do things, but these days it just feels like there are times I need to come before being polite for polite's sake.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Not wanted

A few years ago, several really, I sat down and wound up writing what I think mother felt when she was pregnant with me. While there will be those who will be dubious about how accurate it might have been, there would be others who would likely be more willing to give it credence, as there are those who believe a baby is aware.

What I wrote was full of pain and anguish. I felt she was even angry, and that she did not want me. Since I have spent my life trying to disappear and hide, somehow it would not surprise me if what I got was accurate. I certainly have not felt wanted by many in my life. My grandmother is one I likely felt that way with, but given the litany of concerns she had, and that we had as a family, I know I had an underlying current of worry that I was making things harder on her, and that maybe she'd be better off without me.

I am not sure, as I think about this, that I have ever felt "safely" loved and wanted. Even if something hinted at it, I think I have been insecure in what I felt. To make matters worse, there have been times I somewhat took a leap, only to have the rug pulled out from under me.

Yesterday someone said I do not use the "L" word freely. It is like it really means something to me. When I say it, it would seem it really means something, and I really mean it. I never really thought about it, but that makes sense to me. Why give love to someone who may not really want me, to someone who can just get up and walk away - like so many have done?

My mother walked away. She was told that living with my grandparents would be good for me. She listened. If she felt the way I think she did about me, my guess is that that wasn't too hard to do. I could, of course, be making this all up. However, I'd say there are pieces that ring true, even if the whole isn't all that accurate.

How does one deal with feeling unwanted, and therefore unloved? How does one heal the pain? 

People tell me they love me, and it is uncomfortable for me. Those who were "supposed" to love me weren't present. Unconsciously it might seem that a person who loves me leaves me - or was never really there in the first place. 

For me, another saying they love me often gives me a sense of uncertainty. When are they going to leave? This is not something I really ever thought about until now. But I suspect there is some truth to it.

Often being the "odd" one, or the outsider hasn't helped me to feel all that welcome in the lives of others, much less their hearts. The pieces seem to come together so incredibly well. What is in that that I am supposed to get? I suspect it may be more obvious to an observer than it is to me.

All these thoughts are bubbling up, as I have been having pain quite close to my belly button. I suspect there is a connection between the two. Life came through that place. When I think about being in the womb, it is not a welcoming place. It feels dark, and unsafe. And if my first relationship and "home" did not feel safe, or make me feel welcome, is it no wonder many others do not, either?

I truly feel like I have been walking around on pins and needles most of my life. I have been uncomfortable in my skin because I have never felt good enough. If I had been "good enough" I would not have been such an outsider. Something was apparently wrong with me since I was picked on, and never seemed to fit in. I was present in the world, but it never really seemed that many around me wanted me to be a part of their world.

This isn't absolute stuff. But it has been a big theme of my life. It has been the source of a lot of pain and sadness in my life. Besides crying, I am not sure what to do with all of this at the moment. I am guessing there is something to be done. There is such great pain in my body. Great pain regarding the source of my life, and my life itself. Maybe this is why I have been feeling angry at my mother?

I know ultimately this is a good thing...but as for right now...

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Sunday, September 13, 2015

Field of Possibilities

There is a video with Greg Braden that I have referenced before. In it, Greg show a video of a woman dealing with a cancerous tumor. In the video, through an ultrasound image, you watch the tumor disappear - in 3 minutes.

I was watching that video, and YouTube brought up another one that I am really glad I watched. For one, Greg tells his audience what the Chinese words spoken mean: "already done" and "now." He speaks of how the practitioners do not deny cancer. Instead they accept it as a possibility, as there is a large field of possibilities, of which cancer is one. They accept it, and they also choose to create a different possibility in their acceptance that the woman is already healed "already done...now."

It meant a lot to me to hear this conversation, as it is one I can align with. Greg says they don't label the cancer as bad, or even tell it it has to go away. Instead they choose a different focus.

When I hear people try to tell me to deny cancer, it never really works for me. Neither does the push to "focus on the positive," as it often feels like it not only rings hollow, but it is just another way of trying to tell me to ignore cancer. Is that what they're doing? I don't really know, but it is how it feels it comes across, and how I often have taken it, and reacted accordingly.

I think in my least negatively emotional moments is my best chance to be in an "already done" space because it is less likely to feel like a denial of what is. At the same time, a negatively emotional moment could also be like a choice in the Field of Possibilities. Maybe the idea of acknowledging what "is so" and then choosing something else is the key. In that way, all bases are covered. I can acknowledge where I am, and also acknowledge that I choose a different possibility.

As you can tell, I am working this stuff out. A part of me still kind of takes issue with the idea that THIS is THE way. If you don't do it right, then you don't get it, and somehow that just doesn't feel right to me. But even if it is not THE way, maybe in the Field of Possibilities it is ONE way for healing and miracles to happen.

I just have to figure out how to get the feeling of "already done" in the midst of the pain I feel. Those two things are at odds with each other. Maybe it means taking something for the pain so it stops speaking as loudly as it does.

Although the other day I talked to the pain, and it talked back. Numbing the pain of something that feels it needs to be heard may not be the most ideal route to take. Can I be "already done" if there is stuff I need to deal with? How do I deal with that aspect of things? Maybe I can be "already done" with tumors and cancer, and find other routes to dealing with the things I need to deal with. If there is a Field of Possibilities, I do not see why that could not be one.

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Damn Illusion.

Today's illusion tells me I am not feeling well. Today's illusion has me frustrated with how my brain seems to be blipping. I left water running yesterday, and this morning left milk out.

These illusions feel very real, and are in striking contrast to what I have been working on creating. 

Last night I dreamt that I embarrassed myself by something I could not control, and had lost my job (2 unrelated things that happened about the same time). I think I was where I had worked, and I just started to breakdown crying. It became deep sobs, as I crumbled to the ground. There were people around, but no one came up to me. No one said anything. I was left alone to fall apart.

Interesting dream.

My awake illusion says I feel crappy. I also need to go out and replace the milk, but only after I shower, and pull myself together. The illusion says I am tired and feel weak and that bed is where I'd rather be.

Damn illusion.

Illusion and Reality

Staying off Facebook has kind of ended. I have been posting since my recent doc visit. I really have wanted to stay away, but at the moment, so much love floweth from/through there. I have been touched by several people's posts.

This morning I posted the following. Not sure why I did not just post this here, especially given its length, but it felt like the thing to do. So I did it.


Dis-ease is said to be an illusion. I can believe that. After all, the idea that anything is solid is also an illusion. The illusion of solid, though, is often perceived - and experienced as - reality. Does that make "reality" only something that is perceived as real? I have said I will not deny my reality. Perhaps what I should say is that I will not deny that i am experiencing certain things that seem awfully real. They seem as "solid" as the bed I am in, and as solid as the device I am communicating with. But their perceived structure can be disproven. It can happen. It does happen. Still have questions about things. Told someone last night that I believe there are things we do not fully understand, therefore we only embrace what we think we know. I have to believe my questioning is a good thing, and is never a hindrance to my progress as a human, or as a soul. I wrote yesterday about unconditional love of a parent, regardless of circumstances. I have to believe there is love, understanding, appreciation at all times in all ways - regardless of whether I get to stay in this body much longer, or not. I also have to believe if I am "meant" to be here, nothing I say or do - or don't say or do - will get in the way of that happening. I say these things for myself, but also for anyone else they make speak to. There are so many different perceptions and beliefs that people have. I know there will be those who will see things quite differently. It would seem there must be some purpose for this disparity. Life is made up of disparities. There are so many that are opposing absolutes. How is that possible? Only with the denial of anything that doesn't fit the perspective claimed. Someone can just as easily deny our beliefs and reality, as they can ours. I have gotten angry when my "reality" has been denied. I think that happens for most. Does it matter if it is "real" or not, if it feels real? Maybe it isn't so much that we are meant to deny anything, but perhaps we are meant to find whichever truths we can in the midst of the painful stuff. What those truths may be may also vary. But I am working on learning to be more aware of my energies, and more open to love, and a life without an experience of dis-ease. It already exists. The question in my mind is what purpose does this experience serve? I do believe it showed up for a reason. If nothing else, I got to know me in a way I never knew existed. I also got to "meet" some great people as a result. There is so much good that has come, and I am grateful for. I have been in pain and frustrated and angry, and a bunch of stuff, but I am grateful for what the experience of cancer has brought me and my experience of life.

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Saturday, September 12, 2015

I Believe in Miracles...

I am feeling the need to remind myself that I believe in miracles, and that I believe *I* can have one.

They DO happen, and *I* am a recipient.

I just called 800-pray-now. They are available 24/7. I have called 3 times in the last few days. Each time it has been a slightly different reason/feeling I have called for. 

This last time I was starting to cry when I called, and now I am feeling more peaceful. 

I know I have said "if" there is a God, and some may question my belief in one. But, question, or not, I believe in the power of good thoughts and another's support. Plus just because I question, it does not mean I haven't left myself open to something greater than myself.

"If" there is a God, I have to believe S/He understands wherever one may be on their journey, and will never hold it against them - if it doesn't look a certain way. A parent will support their child, even if the child does his, or her, own thing, even if they get into a jam, even through disappointments, even with differing perspectives and opinions.

"If" there is a God, God's love, I have been told, is unconditional. Well. Unconditional means love and understanding and support without the relationship having to be one certain way.

I am not sure healing only comes through life. However, my ego certainly prefers that option at the moment. 

I believe in miracles. I believe I can have one. I believe I am a miracle - a walking, talking, breathing miracle. I believe in love and its power. I feel love. I feel loved.

Which Path?

If there was truly ONE answer, ONE path that ALWAYS worked, you'd think we'd know it by now.

And if there is no such thing...how does one know which path to choose?

My guess? It's the one with the most signs pointing a certain direction. But, the thing is, just because one is meant to go a certain direction does not mean it is a Path of Solution. Maybe in some cases, our path is a different one.

The best we can do is what feels "right," and hope that it is in some way right.

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A Pause?

Have you ever been in a busy place with a lot of people walking? Odds are, most people have been at some point or another. If that place is somewhere where people are rushing, it is a ripe situation for people running into each other. 

If a person is without luggage, s/he may be able to navigate more easily to stay out of trouble. But with luggage, it becomes a trickier situation.

What I have discovered works best for me when someone is coming at me and I am not sure which way they're going is to just stop. I just pause for a moment, and the other person can choose which side of me to go on without the risk of me heading that same way.

(Interestingly when I do that many people apologize to me. Not sure what the apology is for, though.)

My pause is a self-protective action. I don't want to run into anyone. To me, it just makes sense, rather than just plowing through.

As I thought about this recently, it made me think about life in general. Maybe the same approach works when there are many things that seem to come at us. Maybe there are times it is best to just pause before going any further instead of just plowing through.

And the more "luggage" we have, the more it might be a better idea to stop. The more we carry, the more likely we are to have an incident with another.

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Friday, September 11, 2015

What I Need

So. Yesterday I found out the chemo is not working. I was devastated. 

I want to talk about this, but am in some way not sure how. I need my miracle to show up, and there are those who are convinced that it will only show up with the "right" energy.

I have been advised how to address this, and it is, in part, to act "as if" I am healthy, and all is well. It was pointed out to me that someone already "whole" need not be healed. 

It was also pointed out to me that fear energy isn't helpful, and that by sharing information and the reality that the docs espouse is only likely to invoke fear in others. 

I figure it is likely easier for others to think good thoughts for me than it might be for me to do it for myself. I could be wrong, having never been in similar shoes. I guess it would be hard to know how devastating it might personally be to lose someone I care about.

I am never sure what to believe about the idea that "what you think about, you bring about" and that thoughts are energy. All thoughts can't be THAT creative, as there are countless thoughts I have had that never came to have a life.

At the same time, I don't think I can just discount the idea, either. What if something that "needs" to happen only can when it has the strength and conviction of thoughts/belief? 

Do things not given any energy at all occur? I suspect they do. And so do things given a lot of energy. And some things given lots of energy never materialize.

Last evening a few interesting things happened after I got news about my scans. For one, a beautiful woman started talking to me, and told me how her grandmother in her 80s was diagnosed with cancer. She was given 3 months to live. She lived into her 90s, and when she died, it had nothing to do with cancer.

The second thing that happened was while I was on a hotel shuttle. The driver, without prompting, started to talk about miracles. 

The third thing was a song that played on the radio, "This is My Fight Song."

The last thing was waking up in the middle of the night and seeing 2:22 on the clock. I had seen 4:44 earlier in the evening, and often see these types of number sequences. 

222 is about faith, trust, miracles, among other things. How interesting to awaken to that "message."

The person who is offering perspective/help suggested that if you come to me with deep concern, sympathy, or questions about a diagnosis, I should tell you my health took an about face and doctors are stymied and delighted at my recovery.

This outcome is one I have imagined more than once. More than once I have imagined them being surprised at the fact that I am doing what I do, and that it worked so well - despite what they believed.

I have just mixed in other stuff. It has never been my sole focus. It has never been what has informed how I live, what else I say, what I do - at least not in a conscious, intentional way.

How do I deal with telling you all is fine and dandy as I deal with a reality that doesn't exactly seem to fit? On some level it feels like a lie. On another level, it might just help to create an alternate reality.

I used to tell people that saying what doesn't feel true may involve a level of deception, but so what? So what, if what it is can alter how you feel or react in a hood way? But doing it on a personal level is somewhat different than doing it in a more public way.
This person suggests that all communications from me have this OK feel.  For someone who has learned how important it is not to deny things, how do I do that? I really have to have an altered mindset to be able to come to it as authentically as possible.  

It is not like it needs to be perfect, as the  repetition creates a new groove, way of thinking in the mind. And that, apparently, is the point.

I have contemplated creating blog posts that act "as if." I can't help but wonder, though, if it might be confusing for some to read. It could certainly add to good energies, if people believe it. But, somehow, I am not sure that is the way to go.

I also considered refraining from publicly blogging for a bit. It certainly would be less likely to confuse anyone. I could do like when I wrote my book, and write offline, and share after the fact. 

What I need more than anything for the moment is people's love and good thoughts. Fear coming from anyone isn't going to be helpful. Prayers. Good thoughts. Those are good things.

I want to be careful, though. I never want to deny wherever a person is at. I told  someone today that I have learned to get through stuff. I don't stay "there," but it doesn't mean it doesn't keep showing up to get through.  

That is all I could ask of anyone. Please just do your best to love me, instead of feeling the fear that you could lose me. 

I am doing my best to get through this, and truly want an embrace of the miraculous. I would love you in that embrace with me.

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

If I Could...

Recently three different people have tried to tell me the reason I feel the way I do is because I am not active.

I am annoyed.

I am annoyed because what I feel sometimes is not what I feel all the time. Some days I move more easily. Some days my legs do not feel like lead. 

Granted, I am in no shape to run a marathon at any point, but I am not consistently only one way. If I was, maybe I would give their popular and common theory a chance. 

When I ask them to explain to me the difference - they can't. I can. And it's not their damn theory. It's the damn chemo.

The chemo sometimes hits me like a freaking freight train. Out of no where. Without warning. 

It is much more worse right now than it "should" be this stage of the game. It is so incredibly frustrating to not be able to move freely. I tried to vacuum earlier; within moments, I was sweating. Profusely.

I am so tired of people's well-meaning speculations. You try to move when your whole body feels like lead, and the best you can do is shuffle your feet to get where you are going.

If it was "just" inactive muscles, then using them would make them stronger. When my body feels full of lead, they barely function at all to be able to do anything repetitive to make them stronger. They just stop working. 

Imagine not being able to lift your leg. Imagine wanting it to move, and it not. Imagine being on a staircase and that happening. Imagine having to put everything you got into coaxing that leg to lift, and move, and carry you.

If you can imagine these things, you can imagine why there would be times I would try to avoid the steps, if I could. Other times, when I can move more freely, I welcome the activity of the steps.

Then see how you feel when you start to move more easily, and then *BAM* you get hit by it again. You would probably get pissed, too, by the things people say that are just so damn obvious, right?

Then see how you feel when you start to move more easily, and then *BAM* you get hit by it again. You would probably get pissed, too, by the things people say that are just so damn obvious, right?

But you'd likely just be more pissed by how you were feeling than anything else because there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it. It wasn't what you wanted. It is not what you want for yourself. You hate feeling it and experiencing it. You don't go to bed because you want to, you do it because you have to.

And you know on some level your inactivity makes your active moments less than they could be. What others say isn't totally off base. It just isn't the answer to everything you are experiencing that they think it is.

I am so tired of others who have no clue what I am dealing with telling me what I can do. If I could, dammit, I would.

What happens when you have no more to give?

I was watching a show with Jane Seymour exploring the lives of two of her Jewish great aunts. Both aunts were greatly affected by Hitler's Regime in the Second World War. 

One of them was split up from her husband and children, all of which ultimately died. She was able to be united with her sister, only to have likely committed suicide close to when her six month visa was running out, and she may have had to return to a place that might have meant certain death.

This woman had survived so much. Jane seemed astounded that she would get through the mess of life and pain, only to decide to end it all.

In thinking about it, I think I can understand why. For one, she must have been exhausted emotionally and physically. To have to return where she came from would likely compel her to push for more survival energy than she had available. 

Another piece? She knew what Hitler was doing with the Jews. She may have thought that if she was going to die, she'd rather do it on her terms. She picked a beautiful spot/field to end her life. I am sure it was more "appealing" than the gas chambers.

When I think about cancer and dying, I wonder what it would be like to preempt what I am told the end is like. A part of me would rather just go to sleep "forever" than suffer miserably, at length.

I suppose there is the possibility of unforeseen, positive outcomes, but there is also the risk of something absolutely horrendous.  How in the world does one know which way is the best to go? 

There will be those who think preemptive strikes could not be more wrong. But, if one is given the option to in some way take care of themselves, why is that so wrong?

I can't imagine the horrors of those caught up in every aspect of Hitler's devastating actions. Avoiding being a fatal victim of it must have been quite a stressful feat.

After a while it is very hard to keep going, and this is said from someone who has not dealt with anything near as tragic as those I am speaking of.

What happens when you just have no more to give? I imagine it is something like when my body can just barely move. It doesn't matter how much I want it to, or how much I think it should, or that others think in some way it could, sometimes I just have nothing.

I am thinking there comes a mental fatigue point that is not unlike what I just described.

I feel like I have flirted with it more than a time, or two.

So many tell me, "stay strong," and yet there are many who also tell me they don't think they could do what I have done. Inspiration is great for the observer, but can take one hell of a toll on the person whose survival actions inspire.

I am sure no one in a crisis does anything  more than just try to survive. I am fairly certain it unlikely anyone like that sets out to be an inspiration, or tends to even think themselves one. 

They are just trying to survive.

And sometimes the thing a person has to hold onto isn't much. What is there when there seems to be nothing to live for?

Jane's aunt lost her home, her husband, her children, her lifestyle, and saw nothing but utter destruction. I could all too easily see how difficult it would be to choose life, especially one that might quickly, violently end.

I know there would be those who would disagree, but she may have given herself a gift by what she did. 

Hard to do anything...

Was so sleepy earlier. I could not stay awake. Maybe if I allowed myself to sleep, I'd wake up and be able to do stuff.

Well. It ain't workin' as well as I might like. In fact, it is barely workin' at all. 

My legs feel so heavy. It is so hard to walk, to stand.

More than one version of right?

I feel incredibly weak today. 

This far away from chemo, and my legs can barely carry me. I bent down to get laundry out of the washer, and it took more than one try, and everything I had to stand again.

This is so not good. I so did not want that last treatment. Things like this tell me why. This, and the rashes I've had. This, and my hands getting all red and blotchy and itchy. This, and my stomach never being Ok. This, and waking up most days with my eyes glued shut. This, and barely being functional.

Yesterday, yet another person tells me I can do stuff, despite how I feel. So frustrating when people think they know things they really have no clue about.

Do I want to be like this? Hardly. And when I can do things, I do. And when I can't, there is nothing more frustrating. NOTHING.

This same person tells me that I need to get on my knees to God. Candles need to be lit, an hour needs to be spent, and I need to tell God what I will do for Him, if he answers my prayer, and I am well.

Nope. Nope. Nope. I say. I am at a point in my life that I refuse to believe that if something does not happen it is because I have not in some way done it "right." 

If there is a God (how does anyone really know if S/He exists?), then God and I have "spoken" many times. I have cried, asked for help, begged, asked for understanding more than once. If there is a God, God knows my heart. God knows what I would do for others, if I could. 

As soon as I was declared cancer free I was  "out there" trying to see what I could so for others. My blog speaks to me wanting support and understanding for people dealing with all kinds of issues. 

If there is a God, I have a hard time believing that S/He has egoic reactions to things. People believe God is much like humans. Demanding. Revengeful. Needs things done its way. Do things "my" way and be rewarded. Acknowledge me. Acknowledge my power. If you don't, you'll be sorry.

If there is a God, and God loves us, I would think it an unconditional love. I would think God would understand that we are learning and growing at all times, and won't always do things just one way.

Is a parent who loves their child only going to love their child only if certain conditions are met? For some, that is definitely the case, but for others the love is unconditional, and the child will learn how best to be themselves in the world with the support of their parents. And it could look any number of ways - not just one.

When love is at the core of things, there are unspoken truths and understanding. Not everything needs to be said, or will be spoken. The hearts of those who love each other speak their own language.

If God exists, God knows all about me. God knows my soul's desires and purpose. God knows what I want. If God exists, and it is up to God whether I live or die, I have a hard time believing God will say, "Since you did not do this, this, and that, and because you didn't do this thing that way, your time is up."  

My friend said my "if" talk made me sound like an atheist. I told him I did not need the things I said to be used to label me. 

Do I absolutely believe there is a God? Apparently not. But do I absolutely believe there isn't one? No.

However, I do think we sometimes put casual relationships where there aren't necessarily any. In some cases, we may even attribute something to a wrong cause, and yet feel we could not be any more right.  

Is God the cause of everything? If so, God could also make us a cause of our own life. Maybe that good thing that happened was because of what we created. Maybe we are meant to take credit for it.

If everything was as much about God as some people think, then why are we here? What is the point if it is only about God? God doesn't need us.

I am sure there are some reading this who have answers to these questions, and to you they make perfect sense. I do not share these thoughts to convince anyone of anything. I do not share them to get into some kind of debate.

I often do not have open "God" conversations because they often become religious debates in which neither side will win over the other. One argues "apple," the other "kumquat" and there rarely is a workable middle ground. It winds up being a head-butting exercise that isn't very helpful at all.

I share these thoughts because it is what I think about. It is what I deal with. It is what I question. I share them because it is my journey. I do not share them to be convinced of anything.

Funny this "convincing thing." My friend calls me stubborn because I am uninterested in doing what he suggests. When one uses "stubborn" with a person, the implication is that the person is in the wring somehow. 

I have spent a lot of my life questioning myself. Could someone else, or something else, be more right than me, and where I am, and what I believe?

There are times I "gave in." There are times I tried something that wasn't "mine," and it did not seem to be a good thing in any way. Many times it just wound up compromising me.

I do not stand where I do now just to be stubborn. I am a lot less reactive than that. I just know emphatically what works and what doesn't, and what feels right, and what doesn't, and I have become unwilling to compromise. 

I do not let the label "stubborn" to manipulate me into going against myself. Calling someone stubborn is such a great tool of manipulation, isn't it? Well. At least, in my case, it used to be.

I do not know what THE answers are to anything. The best I got is my ability to be in touch with how I am feeling, and respect it. Along the way, I would also hope that meant I would respect where others are in their journey. And if something different worked for them, then it doesn't mean either one of us was wrong. There could just be more than one version of "right."