I’ve though about writing this post many times now, but it never really felt like the right time, or I was too angry/sad/whatever to really not sound like a total asshole. So I decided that today I will try and get at least some of these thoughts out, hopefully in the most respectful way possible. As always, there’s no offense intended, just the honest and undeniably raw emotions of a girl again fighting for her life.
Growing up, my house was never particularly religious. We didn’t really go to church unless it was maybe for a funeral or a Christmas gathering with family. We didn’t say Grace before meals, or do anything like that. My parents were (and are) incredibly accepting of whatever we wish to believe in, and just because we didn’t practice a relgion as a family didn’t mean that we ourselves couldn’t pursue what felt right to us, or at least explore the world of religion around us.
Like many, we, or at least I, was aware of the concept of God and Jesus and all that. But it seemed to strange to me to have so much faith and belief in people/powers like that. Honestly, I’m still incredibly ignorant to a lot of this stuff, which is pretty embarassing especially because so many of you, my supporters, send up countless prayers for me on a daily basis.
I don’t really even know where to go from here– there’s so much I want to say but don’t know how or in what order. So be prepared for a potentially even more scatter-brained post than usual!
Just because I’ve never directly believed in the common belief of God, doesn’t mean that I haven’t believed in something. Sometimes my beliefs fluctuate… I think there very well could be a “higher power” if you will, I think that maybe it’s not a person, but an energy or a… life force, maybe? I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think it’s crazy to think that there’s something bigger than us out there. When things are going well for me, I think that’s usually how I choose to see things. Either that, or maybe I just roll along through life not really putting much thought into the matter. But when things really get shitty, that’s when I really start delving into the possibilities of who or what could be “behind” the situations I’m going through. It’s almost like I go from not really believing in anything to believing in everything– every religious figure from every religion, every higher power that might influence what situation I’m in. I go from not praying at all to catching myself sending up prayers to Gods that I don’t usually believe in, in the hopes that they’ll hear my pleas and find it within themselves to answer my prayers even though I only send them my prayers when I’m in need. Does that make me a selfish douche? So be it. But the way I see it is that these figures, or powers, are there to help us. To give us something to believe in, and they will help us when we’re in need… even if that’s the only real time we turn to them.
When I think of religion, I usually associate it with God and Jesus and, forgive my ignorance, but all those sorts of figures, but mostly those two. When I found out I relapsed back in February, I was pretty pissed. I was pissed, I was terrified, I was confused. Instead of asking “why? Why me? Why again?” I was more angry. Furious, really. Furious at these figures that I never really believed in until shit went south of me. I had a bone to pick with this God, with this Jesus. What kind of fucked up game were they playing with my life? Lulling me into a false sense of security for 10 months only to surprise me with a relapse after I’d fought so hard and gone through so much.
They were the first ones I turned to. Like, what the fuck?! Who does that to a person?! I knew I wasn’t the only one going through hardships, but for me, this was my life that “they” were fucking around with. This was my family “they” were impacting. How dare they??
That was a weird place for me to be. Stuck wrestling with how and why this shitty event could have happened. I’d already been calling myself a survivor, planning for my one year re-birthday. Planning trips and gatherings, applying to schools again. Returning to normal. And then WHAM! (little Deadpool reference there 😉 ) the air was taken right out of my sails again, throwing my life into a spiral of what ifs and what to dos all over again. But after the initial shock and fear wore off, I went from being resentful of whatever had “caused” this shittastic event to asking for help from the powers I had been so quick to despise. Maybe that’s human nature, but I’d be lying if I didn’t feel sort of shitty about that. Like, “fuck you! … oh, but also please help me?”
I guess the point of this post is that, although I’m not sure what I believe in, I’ve started believing in just about everything that can potentially help me. Sending up thoughts to powers beyond my fathoming. And along with that, I wanted to say another thank you to absolutely everyone who is praying for me, sending me positive thoughts and altogether keeping me and my family in mind. The culmination of well wishes works wonders, and I’m not kidding when I say that I can feel the goodness radiating my and my family’s direction. I’ve come to realize, maybe even more so just while writing this post, that above everything, I believe 150% in the power of positivity. Whether that be in the form of prayer, good thoughts, good energy, good company, what ever it is, I can feel it. I can feel it in my heart, I can feel it in my soul. I feel it all around me. It’s a power beyond anything I can describe, and I’m again at a loss for words for how much all these thoughts together are impacting me, and how much I deeply appreciate them. It’s miraculous. The world works in mysterious ways.
I decided to write this post for a couple of reasons. I’m feeling like I’m a little scatterbrained at the moment, but I’ll continue regardless of potential repetition. When I settle down from being angry at the powers that may be about my situation, I become even more open minded to the idea of religion. I have a Rosary that was blessed by the Pope, I have Holy Oil that is supposed to work wonders. I have other trinkets from other religions that I hold onto and try to pull goodness and strength from. I have stones and essential oils that I believe can help me. I have books I read to give me strength and encouragement when I feel I have none. But more than all of that, I have people– and entire army, really– behind me pushing me on and encouraging me. Supporting me. Loving me. Praying for me. Giving, giving giving time from their busy lives to keep me in mind, to come hang out with me.
I also decided to address this topic today because, although I still have a long road ahead of me (that’s a line I’ve used several times before in earlier posts), this morning was a great one. The CBC they drew this morning came back, and the peripheral draw showed that there were NO LEUKEMIC BLASTS! I’m only on day 5 of treatment, but hell fuckin’ yeah! Treatment, I’m sure, played a role, but I think that the continued outpouring of love and positivity worked perhaps even harder. I was told going into this, this “high intensity” chemo that things wouldn’t be easy, and who knows, maybe the hardships are still down the line a ways, but for now, I’ve been doing remarkably well. And that, I entirely attribute to all of you. All the countless people sending their thoughts my way.
I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a million times– thank you all, from the absolute bottom of my heart. I wouldn’t be where I am today without all of you behind me. I am beyond humbled, and I have so much love, gratitude and appreciation for every single one of you.
Thank you!!! And here’s to the next leg of this wild ride 🙂