When mum got diagnosed with the cancer I knew it was going to be tough. I knew I would inevitably struggle. I reduced my coaching hours and I stopped taking on more online clients for a bit. I then got preggo and then had a miscarraige. And again. I knew 2019 was not going to be as 2017 or 2018 had been. I knew it was going to suck. I knew I would need to see a therapist.
I've always loved the idea of therapy. I always wanted an excuse to go, but I never felt damaged enough. I didn’t think I was traumatised enough. I assumed it would be too high maintenance of me. Too dramatic. So when trauma happened. When the drama actually hit the fan. I felt justified to go.
And the very shit that held me back from starting therapy any sooner, was the very shit that is the forefront of our sessions. My fear of not being enough, off setted by my fear of being too much. It’s a head fuck. Always have been.
As the years has gone on. 6 months into mums diagnosis, i’ve had this feeling. This feeling of grattitude. That I still, despite this fuckery that is cancer and a miscarraige, that I love my life. The weirdness that life does just, inevitably carry on. I thought to myself “wait… this is meant to the worst year of my life" which of course. It is. But I thought it would “feel" worse. I thought i’d be in my bed eating ice cream covered in snot till the end of time. I begun to get quite proud of not letting it stop me in my tracks. I have been happy with how philosophical I am. Matched by my mum’s positivity about it all. We had this. We got this. We were strong and powerful and we were not going to let cancer steal our life, our joy, our time.
And then the therapist says (on repeat) “I don’t think you have processed this. I think you are desensitised, as is your mum” Ok. I think. “well I am just choosing to be grateful for what we DO have” time. Each other. Love.
“yes he says. And that’s great. IF you were digesting the actuality of what’s going on. You are grieving and yet you don’t look sad. Sad things are happening but you don’t express any feeling”
Que American Phycho thoughts. Omg. I’m null and void from emotion. I’m cold. I’m a serial killer 😭
I’ve spent years saying i’m emotional. I’m vulnerable. I’m open. I’m an empath. And this man is telling me i’m desensitised. And have been from a young age cos i’ve had people lead me to believe i’m “too much”
I sit there for 4 sessions not understanding. I AM emotional. I fucking am. Of course i’m sad. Look at me. Mum has stage 4 lung cancer and I am sad. It IS sad. Of course i’m sad…
The clock ticks as we sit there silently. He looks at me. Judging (without judgement) analysing me. I keep eye contact. Looking away would prove something to him. Know idea what, but I know it will give too much away. He will decide I am Christian Bale about to go on a rampage and section me. I keep looking back at him wondering who will give in 1st and look away, talk, breathe…
I accept my fate. I look away…
2 sessions later. After weeks between seeing if I am actually “feeling" anything. I say to him “I feel numb. I know I am sad up here” I point to my head. “but I don’t feel it here" I point to my stomach.
Tbh i’ve felt more anxiety than I have sadness the last few months. Which is my default apparently. I squash sadness and therefore over use something else. Anxiety my drugmotion of choice.
It’s sunk in. The realisation that perhaps i’m not doing as well as I assumed. I’m possibly not as philosophical as I imagined. I’m instead. Just good at blagging it. So much so i’ve blagged to myself.
Fuck.
The last 2 week’s have been interesting. Random moments where I catch my sadness. Most of the time I feel it. In my gut my heart and my head and then it’s gone as quickly as I notice it. But the more time goes on… the more these moments happen. And the longer the sadness stays with me. And there it is.
My fear that the sadness wont go away.
Mum seems to be getting more ill. But we can’t tell if it’s side affects of treatment Or if it’s the cancer. Is it side affects from the 20 thousand medications she’s on or is it the cancer? Why can’t someone fuxking tell us? Is the maintenance not infact maintaining it? So I don’t know. Is it the therapy that’s making me aware of my emotions, or is the reality of what’s actually going on, syncing in?
Maybe both.
This weekend. My business I run with my friend, Kettleboobs was at Happy Place. Ferne Cottons festival and it was such a wonderful event for us. It was right up our street. Our ethos and our vibe. Our mission as a company is to remind everyone that we are unique, one of a kind and imperfectly perfect. Just like our boobs. We want people to find Joy in their differences. To be accepting and kind to ourselves and enjoy our imperfect tits, imperfect lives and our imperfect stories.
Mum came today. In pain. Her chest hurts. Her legs hurt. She was in tears last night In pain. But she came. Because life goes on. Like Lauren Mohon reminded us today in her beautifully articulated talk. When she got the news she was dying, she knew she had to start living. Which is what mum says. And living doesnt have to be climbing mount Kilimanjaro but perhaps, just sitting in the sun watching inspiring people talk on stage at a festival. It made me so happy to see my mum out and fighting her fears. She went and spoke to Jonny after his talk. A fear she fought and did it anyway
I got emotional as Lauren came over to mum and gave her a hug cos she knew mum was a fan. She took the time to chat and make the effort. It’s like a connection you have with cancer. An understanding. She got it. She got my mum's pain. Her thoughts. Her fear.
There is nothing worse than seeing your mum be vulnerable, goin through something like this. 11 therapy sessions down. The emotion of that keeps overwhelming me. But listening to people like Lauren and Bowel babe and thrivers of cancer, you feel so much more supported. You feel less alone. Less lost.
So this is a massive thank you to Lauren. For making mum feel, I dunno, alive… for giving her a hug and taking the time. You are a true gem.
Please go support Lauren. Her insta girlsvscancer is bloody awesome. Her energy is so fucking awesome and catching and it’s a wonderful cause.
So i’m on my way home, writing about how I’m feeling (my therapist will have a field day) As I like to discuss how i’m feeling as a distraction to the actual feels. He says. But fuck it. If i don’t write about it. And I don’t express it. I’ll burst.
So whilst I may not quite be there in being IN my feelings. I’m learning. I’m trying to find my way to let the sadness be. But at the moment. I am just in grattitude. For my mum. For our time. For our love. For the connections we are making. For this weekend. For the talks. For the sunshine. For friends. For not letting cancer stop her. Stop us. And just be grateful for this. What we do have.
I can cry tomorrow. Today. As Jen Pastiloff says “We have done love”
