Over and Over and Over and

It’s been a few months since my last update. I wish I could report that is because all has been well. But that is not the case. I have been trying to go over, under, or around three gigantic boulders dropped in my path. It has taken me some time to chip away at them and get them to a manageable size. A size I can hold in my hands and turn over and examine and discuss, knowing they can’t crush me. I have experienced so much I will be splitting this into three separate posts. 

Along my cancer journey, many hidden gems have enriched me, changed me in a good way, or helped me to a new understanding of myself and my experience. One of these gems I have just more fully acquired is understanding how I process “setbacks.” One of my shrinks, some of us need a couple ;-), pointed out I was in a stage of grief. I was realizing I would never be my old self. I would not participate in many activities that I loved, and that defined my life. I was devastated and disoriented. No more hiking, dancing with friends, buzzing around everywhere, having fun, traveling! What does this leave me? Who am I now? What can I be? This is not just something I could suck it up and digest in one enormous bite. I need to allow myself to go through stages or steps of grief, very similar to Elizabeth Kubler Ross’s famous stages of grief:  denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. After going through the last several years and continually adjusting to my reality, I see this has very much been my pattern. But each time, I did not see it as a necessary process. I thought I would be forever stuck on the stage I was in, paralyzed. It helps me quite a bit to understand I am moving forward and not sinking. 

I don’t exactly go through denial, I know it is true. Instead I become absolutely paralyzed. It is more than I can process. I shut down and can’t talk or think about it. I sleep to escape, then gradually start peeking out from under the covers.

Anger is next and I get pissed! I had been sure I had hit rock bottom and was on my way up. How could this possibly be happening again? I am physically and emotionally completely beat down and exhausted, I can not handle this. I will find a way, there is something out there. I start reading professional medical journals.

I have already made enough bargains for several life times. I can skip this, I have nothing more to offer.

There is no way out, its happening. With this realization comes a very dark, very deep depression. I am barely able to function. I never realized it before, but at this point I am near the end of processing my grief. I start pulling my nose up, I have always found that door, the door with the light behind it. I can find it again.

The final stage for me, is what I am doing now. Yanking it out of me, externalizing it by writing about it. Don’t let the door hit you on your ass.

Boulder number one. This boulder was entirely psychological. I have already been discussing it. I have been confused and disoriented. How much of my old self was left? How did I get here? This is not my beautiful life. This is not my beautiful wife. 

So all that is gone. Is this possibly a good thing? Was I a chaotically overgrown tree in need of severe pruning to allow new growth, and sun and air? What could this now enable me to experience? I joked with a friend that all these experiences had enriched me enough. Fuck Nirvana, I wanted gritty life. I pass on enlightenment. 

However, maybe the ability to indulge endlessly in thought and sensation was something few people had the luxury of experiencing. Perhaps I should open myself and embrace it. Maybe I was moving houses, from a physical address to a cerebral and spiritual address. Perhaps I should go bald again. I think an orange monk’s robe would work well with my green eyes. Laundry would get quite simple.

Then along came boulder number two, crashing hard. BOOM!