While in the midst of my two month cancer temper tantrum, something radical occurred. I don't remember if it was mid kick or scream or during one of my symbolic body-hurlings to the floor. Either way, it was pivotal. Suddenly, it was as though I looked around and no one was really watching anymore. The drama show had ended but someone forgot to tell me on their way out the theater doors. Not even a mopping janitor was left or a bored sleeping patron sitting in the nosebleed section. I was alone, I was tired... and I wanted to go home. The four year old in me quickly wiped away the crocodile tears. I hoped the reviews would be good as I did give quite the performance. Oh, and wouldn't you know something else happened...I was happy.
Wallowing in my own misery for that long made me feel like such a has-been and I was finally ready to through in the towel. I think the ceasing moment really came when someone flat out told me how negative I was. He was so matter-of-fact I felt sorry for him and even worse for me. He didn't know me all that well but what he did know of me was pretty crummy. It made me scared to think that someone could perceive me in this light when I knew deep down inside that wasn't my true essence. "But...but..." I stammered coming up with my best excuses for acting like a pouty child these past few months. "I have cancer and they pump me with drugs and it's poison and I can't go out as much and sometimes I feel awful and I have bills I can't pay and I'm going to lose my hair & I have nothing happy to look forward to for so long and there are no guarantees and what if x,yz and woe is woe is woe is me." I felt sheepishly small. I realized I was entitled to every excuse I had stated and then some but that it made me look uglier than the cancer itself.
And so then and there I vowed to change one of the only things I could: my perspective.
Wallowing in my own misery for that long made me feel like such a has-been and I was finally ready to through in the towel. I think the ceasing moment really came when someone flat out told me how negative I was. He was so matter-of-fact I felt sorry for him and even worse for me. He didn't know me all that well but what he did know of me was pretty crummy. It made me scared to think that someone could perceive me in this light when I knew deep down inside that wasn't my true essence. "But...but..." I stammered coming up with my best excuses for acting like a pouty child these past few months. "I have cancer and they pump me with drugs and it's poison and I can't go out as much and sometimes I feel awful and I have bills I can't pay and I'm going to lose my hair & I have nothing happy to look forward to for so long and there are no guarantees and what if x,yz and woe is woe is woe is me." I felt sheepishly small. I realized I was entitled to every excuse I had stated and then some but that it made me look uglier than the cancer itself.
And so then and there I vowed to change one of the only things I could: my perspective.
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