That's when it happened. I ran across a picture I don't remember ever seeing before. I think my cousin Chrissy may have taken it last summer (pre-diagnosis). Here it is:
Nothing special right. Sawyer even has a weird look on his face, I'm wearing a plain 'ol t-shirt. Cute picture, but nothing particularly spectacular. But something about it sent me 'into orbit', as my mother-in-law says. When I came across it, I stopped and just looked at it for a few minutes. Slowly, my eyes filled with tears, and then those tears were streaming down my face. After a few minutes, I was just about sobbing.
I look so genuinely happy there on the beach with my little guy. Carefree even. I have hair. I have all my body parts intact. I know I'm not a supermodel by any means, but I look so good in this picture. Good as in healthy, happy, content, free. The girl in this picture knows nothing of the struggles ahead, no clue that her life is about to be turned upside down. (I wish I could go back and give her a heads-up, some kind of warning, Honey-hang on tight, the ride is about to get really bumpy). When I look at this picture, I feel a real sadness in knowing this girl doesn't exist anymore. I feel like that carefree attitude may never come my way again. The girl in the picture has totally disappeared. I know it's not true, I know it, but sometimes the thoughts creep in that I'm like half a person. Emotionally, physically, broken in half by what the devil has taken from me. Like your favorite bowl that got chipped and the missing piece is never to be found again. The bowl might still be cute, but it's always going to be missing that little peice. Imperfect, but able to maintain it's use.
The girl in the picture is gone, for good I know, and sometimes I look in the mirror and don't even recognize the girl left staring back at me. My hair is growing in, but still really really short. It's exciting and exhausting all at the same time. By exhausting I mean, my head and my hair are a constant discussion with everybody: friends, family, strangers even. I know people are genuinely happy for me, and just want to talk and share that excitement with me. Heck, I'm excited too. But I think part of my meltdown last night had to do with always trying to give off the vibe that I am confident and strong and feeling good, etc.
People say I look great, and that is sweet for everyone to say. But the fact is, I am still not at all comfortable with how I look. Somewhere deep down inside of me, I feel awkward and weird and unpretty, if that's a word. I can't help it. All it takes is a weird look from somebody in the grocery store, or the gas station, and I get so self-conscience. I asked a man in Walmart the other day if I could reach behind his buggy to get some Honeycomb, his reply was "Sure, yes sir". Thanks Buddy, that's just great. It takes a lot to be nonchalant about being practically bald. It's not a pity party either. I think I want so badly to feel like I did about myself before cancer and it's just not going to happen. Things are different, and as a result, I feel different.
After I had my emotional breakdown, I got in bed to relax and started reading a book my mama gave me by Beth Moore. Right there in the front was this passage:
I waited patiently for the Lord,
he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire;
He set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand.
He put a new song in my mouth,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear
and put their trust in the Lord.
- Psalm 40:1-3
I might have been in that pit, back when I was diagnosed and going through treatment, but he pulled me right out of it. I might have been feeling a little down last night, which is OK, but this passage pulled me up again. I guess life will always have it's ups and downs, no matter what. I just hope that what ever happens in the future, I will always be able to find a place of peace, which is where the Lord wants me to be.
I don't mean for this entry to be a downer. I really don't. Overall, I am still happy about where I am right now, but sometimes, you just have to feel what you feel and go with it. Sometimes it involves having a small (or medium-sized) emotional breakdown, but that's OK. As long as I don't dwell there with those thoughts and let them overtake me.
I'm sharing this very personal stuff, and I know it's OK to do so, because my sweet friend Marci also has a blog and has been very brave lately in putting her struggles out for the world to see. If she's brave enough to do it, I can be too. Maybe my private thoughts will help someone else, as her thoughts have helped me.
Thank you to everyone who still includes me in their prayers. It means the world.
Love ya'll,
Elisha
No comments:
Post a Comment