This I Know

This morning, I sat in a training meeting, only half paying attention to what I was hearing. I was leaning on the table, my head resting on my hand, and my fingers wandered, as they often do, to the knot on the right side of my neck. I can actually feel my cancer... or a small part of it, anyway. It's an odd thing, really, to touch a part of you and know it's just... wrong.

So much about me feels wrong lately.

The past few weeks have taken their toll. Last night, I sat here, feeling completely empty, deflated, flat... like a balloon that had lost all its air. Today, my boss asked me no fewer than 6 times what was wrong or if I was feeling better yet. All I could say, each time, was "I'm fine." I heard her tell someone else that I don't lie well (it's hard to lie believably about how you feel when you wear your heart on your sleeve). A little bit ago, while watching something funny on YouTube, a laugh turned inexplicably into The Ugly Cry. I wasn't prepared for it at all. Neither was my poor dog, who flew off the sofa and rushed to my side, to kiss my tears away.

I've been working on not avoiding painful feelings as they arise. I've always been good at rushing to find something to distract me when some unpleasantness comes to mind or heart. But I know, all too well, how that simply prolongs the pain.

So my job right now is to simply face it; to let it wash over me and through me; to sit with it until it subsides.

It's hard.

It's exhausting.

And I'm worn out.

I decided to take this weekend to breathe... to regroup and gain some perspective and balance. I'm going to go to bed early and, hopefully, sleep (I've been dealing with a bit of insomnia and a few nightmares of late). And tomorrow, when the weather is supposed to be nice, I'm going to spend an extra long time at the park with my fuzzy boy. Then I'm going to go to the gym and I'm going to sweat. And then I'll clean out my disgusting car and my messy bedroom, as the disorder in my surroundings isn't helping the disorder in my head.

On Sunday, I'm going to set some goals. I need a plan... direction... a target.

I'll be OK.

This I know.

You know how I know?

This morning? In that training meeting? When I took my hand away from my neck?

This is what I saw...

... and still I rise.

I rise. It's what I do.

Yeah. I'll be OK.

This I know.