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I have never done well with pain, suffering, and sadness. I typically avoid sad movies or I want someone to tell me who is going to die so I could buffer myself and be ready for that scene in the movie. I can remember being in college and it always hurting my heart to have to go back to school after weekends with my family. So much so that when Sunday rolled around I would get up eat my breakfast and typically leave because I didn't wanna be there all day wallowing in the sadness. The struggle was real and I have typically always lived my life kind of that way, feel a little bit of pain, run away, and avoid the pain. Try to be funny, light-hearted and find the positive parts of life.

The funny thing about living with metastatic breast cancer is that you can't run away from it. It is October I am having my 3 year anniversary.  Knowing the average life expectancy living with MBC is 3 years. That thought is like a noose around my neck. Is this my last year of living???? Lots of days it feels like a balloon just hovering above my head. Some days it feels like a lead balloon wrapped tight around my neck. I'm coming up to that "last year". What's gonna to happen? I am living in such a place of push/shove. Where will I be? What am I going to do? Hurry up kids grow up fast so I can see it. Slow down, don't rush children you have the rest of your life set before you. Can you see the push/shove? Ugh it is a direct hit to my already fragile heart.

I know I am trying to live my best life. Some days I live in a state of denial, like it's not really happening. Then I read about somebody that has progression or has passed away and I realize that this is my reality. I can't run away. Being 3 years into this shit show, I thought maybe my energy would be coming back or that I would just learn how to live with it more gracefully but I'm definitely not graceful. I am blundering around like a fat blob. As I drive to work I wonder, is half a life better than no life? I can't do all the things that used to do. For instance before my diagnosis. we had put our house on the market. I spent hours painting, cleaning and staging. Just praying for that stupid thing to sell and of course I get cancer and we take it off the market. I look over the house now, all that hard work is gone. It is a pain in the butt. It really needs to be be deep cleaned again. Things need to be fixed and repainted and I realize that I don't have the energy or the stamina. So this house, our tiny starter home is the forever home. I haven't been able to quite figure out how to live with that.

Metastatic breast cancer crushes dreams. As much as I read about people becoming better people because of the diagnosis some days, most days, I don't fall into that category. I Freaking hate metastatic breast cancer. It sucks on my soul. It makes life harder to live. It makes it harder to balance work, house duties, family and play. I frantically go on vacations trying to capture this positive energy and to live life in the moment, It doesn't change the fact that I can't run away from this. I can live in denial. Then the guilt of not living in the moment and and doing something special in case I die rears its ugly head. Yes, I know we could all get hit by a bus (I hate that phrase see my this blog post). But MY bus is at that red light waiting for that light to turn green. I pray to God everyday that that light just stays red forever. If you look at the statistics that is not the reality. Some days are harder than others.

Apparently, today is one of those days. I remember at the beginning just wanting to be happy and to just live. That living was enough. It is amazing, the mental issues that you had pre-diagnosis creeps back in. You get desensitized to being terminal, those other worries and icky feelings return. Self loathing for being overweight is back in full force and losing weight is that much harder without the energy. The grief cycle is definitely in full force. It is definitely not linear. It is a circle and I feel as if I am on a merry-a-go-round. I want off. I feel so lost. I can't breathe. I don't know if it is PTSD from October the month of celebrating 3 years of living with cancer. HA! Not a celebration, no it is grieving. Cancer sucks. This is not pink. This is not easy.

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