Ew, David.
FRIENDS! First of all the name of this blog has literally nothing to do with what you’re about to read, but now that I have your attention, heeeey. If you’ve been here before, you’ll know this is not the first time that I’ve taken a blog break and usually would start this out with something like “it’s been a minute guys” referring to a few months or so. Well, it’s been almost three years so I guess that makes this a hot minute? TBD. I always told myself if this felt like work I would leave it be and come back when I wanted to, and that’s exactly what I did. Look at me keeping myself accountable, YAS QUEEN.
There have been so many things that have changed since we last spoke so I’ll just do a sweet little summary for you. Professionally, got my dream job - also lost my dream job due to Covid-19. Spin studio closed also due to covid *yikes* but I’m now using the time to work on my personal training certification, and excited for what’s to come with that. Personally, stopped ghosting people and while have not been nearly as active dating due to a variety of things including not freaking wanting to, have spent a lot of time learning about myself and what I really want in a partner *crowd goes wild*. Also, started going to therapy and let’s talk about it okay? Therapy is SO normal and wildly important because we can all be better people, so like, why not? While every session is sometimes almost cringe worthy because, feelings, putting the time in has opened me up to a LOT and has hands down made me a better person, friend, sister, and daughter. Lastly, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and Schitts Creek which I feel no need to explain because IYKYK.
So I’m back, but like, the question we’re all wondering is why? Well, there’s one other big life change I neglected to include in my three year summary because it’s the only reason I’m here in the first place and requires it’s own paragraph, or twenty. May 26, 2020 my entire life changed. I’ve never understood what people meant when they said your life can change in a day mostly because I’ve always thought impactful things could happen in one day, but your entire life didn’t change that exact day. Well, it can. I was driving home from a socially distanced lunch with one of my besties and got a text from my dad to call me as soon as I could, so without thought picked up the phone only to hear that my mom had had a long seizure while at work, was rushed to the hospital, and they had discovered a brain tumor which turned out to be terminal brain cancer. I felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me, it wasn’t possible. I just spoke with her the evening before for several hours, she was fine, there was no way the words I was hearing could be true. But they were, they are, and my life is forever going to be different because of it.
I’ve thought a lot how I’d like to structure this blog post because there are lots of questions that I’d want to know the answers to, especially if you’ve never gone through something like this. So, I’ve decided to keep all the logistics about my momma on her caringbridge, which I also write and will link below. I post weekly/monthly/as needed updates about our day to day, her treatments, etc which allows me to make this blog about the emotion and vulnerability that goes with having the most important person in your life become a kind of sick that you don’t necessarily recover from.
Anyone that knows me, knows I actually fear the word vulnerability *hello therapy* and have become so practiced in shoving my emotions into a trash bag and throwing them into a closet I literally needed to metaphorically buy a house with bigger closets until I decided it was time to confront this not so great coping mechanism. I was recently talking to a friend who very kindly shared with me that I’m not easily supported, especially during a time in life when I absolutely need to lean on those I love. She’s right. I’m much more comfortable being the one to support others, it brings me immense joy yet somehow the thought of leaning on others can be almost crippling. I guess being too independent is actually a thing. The truth of the matter is that I’m not really afraid of anything bad happening should I cry or open up to friends or family, I’m just so well trained to choke back the tears that even the thought of not being okay in front of anyone other than myself in a dark room overwhelms me with so much anxiety that I instantly shut the idea down. While this tactic has worked relatively well for 28 ish years, I’m finding I need to make a change, for my loved ones, and most importantly for myself. What I do know is that I best process my ups and downs on paper. Writing out how I feel allows me to process the emotions, so I think it’s time that rather than just hysterically sob to my journal I share them with all of you. I’d like to say the reason is so that maybe someone going through this feels not alone, and while I do very much hope that’s true, it’s mostly for me. Let’s start excavating, shall we?
The past three months have been the worst kind of roller coaster. Some days, and I would say this is about 80% of the time, I feel like I can rock anything that comes at me which often looks like 56 loads of laundry, 967 dishes, cooking all the meals, grocery shopping, and driving to appointments - essentially a full time maid but I don’t mind because that’s what’s needed. The other 20% of the time, someone could look at me and I might want to fight them. I could hear a song and suddenly am hysterically crying for an hour, or seven, you get the picture. This drastic space between emotions is absolutely exhausting. The energy it takes to be positive and create normalcy in your own life while something like this is going on quite literally takes everything out of you. Yet, when my friends call, I’m hanging in. It honestly makes me sick that when I’m asked how I’m doing the only words I can seem to blurt out are “We’re all hanging in” like WTF Avital? You’re a mess, you’re constantly sad, angry, terrified while simultaneously trying to hold it all together. The thing about having this diagnosis come during a global pandemic is that I get to very carefully pick and choose how I exert energy. I choose when to schedule a zoom call, answer the phone, make any kind of plans so that I can guard my feelings and only share the “good”. I recognize maybe that’s not right, but that’s what works for me, for now anyway. Truly the only “me” time I get in a day is when I workout, so sometimes I double up to get that post workout glow you might see on insta-stories. It’s genuine, short lived bliss, and I have grown to prioritize that over almost anything else aside from Momma related needs because it feels like movement is the glue that holds me together.
Since I seem to be unable to say this aloud, I’ll share this with you. I’m scared out of my mind. I’m scared my mom will never see me find “the one” and be loved. I’m scared if I choose to have kids they will never know their grandma. I’m scared she’s going to miss the rest of my life. Every time I think those things my eyes fill with tears. When I start to get into these deep feels I always write down the moments she has been with me for, the things she’s taught me, and the lessons she’s instilled in me and will continue to do so for as long as I have the gift of her physical presence in my life. That’s the ugly crap that no one wants to talk about but is an everyday reality for me. How do you even tell someone those things? It’s heavy. It’s hard. It doesn’t seem to get easier.
This next paragraph I’ve thought a lot about, as in whether to include or not, because I’m not sure I can find a way to say this that doesn’t come off a bit harsh or maybe insensitive. I’ve decided regardless it’s important to share because there really is no handbook for someone in this situation OR trying to support someone in this situation and I just want to share my experience as honestly and truthfully as I can. First things first, there is literally nothing you could say to me to make this better. I know that. I know that when someone reaches out they have no idea what to say, hell, before May 26th I had no idea what to say. It sucks and no well wish, prayer, or here for you dulls this kind of pain. One of the first people I called when I learned the diagnosis was one of my best friends from college who has first hand gone through this herself because I thought she would know what to say to make it better, as if. She gently said that she had no idea what to tell me, but she knew what not to say and I’ve come to realize how important that is.
There is so much anger and confusion when you receive a loved ones diagnosis and hearing things like “everything happens for a reason” or “such a blessing you lost your job” is an instant trigger. I’ve never negatively reacted as I know it’s coming from a genuine place of love, however, the assumption of how people perceive life experiences isn’t yours to make. So, I guess my ramblings above are to hopefully serve as a gentle reminder that we all see life differently and although you perceive a life experience one way, that’s just your opinion. Again, I don’t mean any ill harm to people who have said the things I’m advising against but like I mentioned, there is no guide book for anyone directly affected or trying to support someone in this situation so be kind and if you don’t know what to say - offer unbiased support.
WOOF. That was a lot to take on, for me, and for you. If you made it this far, thanks for taking the time to hold space for me, I appreciate it more than you know. I don’t have some grand finale ending because this is far from over. My intention would be to keep sharing, an open diary if you will, but we’ll see where the roller coaster takes us. To all my friends who have been the most incredibly supportive humans over the last few months, I’m sorry that I’m so hard to be there for. I hear you, I’m working on it, and most importantly, I love the f**k out of all of you. Until next time. Xoxo
