Tag: thoughts (Page 5 of 6)
I received an amazing message today. It might not sound quite so amazing to other people, but it has made me feel so happy and empowered and excited. I was talking to my friend about all the things I want to do – travelling, different and unusual things, spontaneous things – and this was his reply:
“You beat fucking cancer there is fuck all on this planet you can’t do!“
I hadn’t even mentioned cancer to him but he straight away tapped into why I want to do all this stuff, without me even having to say anything. He got me, and he said exactly what I needed to hear. And now I feel so empowered, and strong, and happy and excited. That’s the reason he’s my bestie. I’ve written it down and taken a screenshot so I can look at it and remember, and I hope his words never lose their effect. Just amazing. And what’s more is he believes it, and he’s made me believe it too. What a great day.
Today I was reminded that I’m actually pretty laid back and that most of the time I don’t worry about little things, because the bigger things I sometimes worry about (yanno, like death and shit (sometimes literally shit)) make other smaller worries pale in comparison. Sometimes I forget that’s what I’m all about, and am in need of a reminder – I’m glad I got that reminder today.
okay can we just one last thing
spreading the idea that one is only triggered when having a full blown, system-shut-down panic attack is damaging and delegitimizing to people who have physiologically and emotionally different reactions to…
Great validating post on triggers. Speaking of which, I’ve been doing really well lately. I’ve been really happy with myself. I haven’t thought about cancer or Lynch Syndrome much for maybe a month now, and when I have, I’ve been able to let thoughts drift into my head, then let them go and move onto something else. And it’s been something I’ve instigated, like looking on the LS Facebook page, and then been able to stop thinking about easily. Until Sunday, when I answered the phone to a cancer charity who have been calling me every day for the past two weeks.
I had been avoiding answering the phone partly because I was worried about the conversation being a trigger. I finally answered it and the guy on the line asked me why I had previously agreed to donate to the charity, to which I replied “personal experience”. I was then pressed further – “someone close to you?” “Myself…” “What kind of cancer did you have?” I probably should have just said mind your own business or something, but I just went along with the conversation. Then the guy started talking about his cousin who’d had cancer, and had suffered with a low immune system due to the treatment, and did I have that problem too? I didn’t think so. Apparently it was really difficult because nobody could visit his cousin if they had even the sniffles. That does sound difficult and though I sympathise, I don’t actually remember asking. I’ve had the charity (maybe not the same charity, thinking about it) call me before and they’ve always been really nice, but never as personal as that, with their questions or their own unsolicited anecdotes. It was all very strange and a little triggering, and also turned out to be totally unnecessary because they wanted me to donate regularly, which I do anyway.
So. I think that’s the reason I’ve been finding it a little difficult to catch my breath a few times over the last couple of days. Breathlessness caused by stress, I think. I’m just going to have to try really hard to kerb my thoughts and not slip back down that hill. It’s only a setback if I let it be a setback, right?
That’s the problem with language; sometimes you can be saying the right words but they don’t mean the right thing. Like an idiom or a turn of phrase when you’re learning a second language. Or even when you’re speaking perfect English, or whatever your first language is. You don’t have to be an amateur to say the wrong thing even when you think you’re using the right words.
You may think that he’s a demolition expert
When he’s finished with your self-esteem
It may be true we all need knocking down a few
Come find shelter or your shelter with me, with me
– George Ezra, Breakaway
I love George Ezra’s album, but you’re wrong, George. I didn’t need knocking down a few. I needed building back up.
Don’t mind me; it’s been a bad week. I’m feeling sensitive to like, everything. So. Maybe next week will be better.
Gotta try to write a difficult thing tonight. I’ve been putting it off because it just hasn’t… come out. I had a difficult conversation with my manager about my medical history this week and I think that took it out of me and now my inspiration is shot to shit. Hoping Jack Daniels is gonna get it outta me tonight because I don’t wanna put it off anymore. Might help if i ever turn off Orange Is The New Black. Write drunk, edit drunk, submit drunk, stop being distracted. #AwesomeWritingAdvice
I wrote a guest post for Ihavelynchsyndrome.com! If you’re interested in me blabbering on about Lynch syndrome and self-improvement and so on, clicky here: http://www.ihavelynchsyndrome.com/10-truths-lynch-syndrome-guest-blogger-sam-rose/#.VOeJJfmsVqU
I started writing something tonight (a potential guest blog post) then realised that I’m not in the right frame of mind at the moment to write it. I can’t deal with the subject right now. So I listened to myself, and I stopped. This is progress. Respecting my own feelings and doing the sensible thing for a change. I’ll pick up where I left off another day.
I’ve decided that flouncing in and out of weird moods triggered by, well, cancer-related triggers, is not good enough. I know I’m struggling to be positive but when I get into a funk, I get so deep into it that it’s like I lose sight of how and where I came in and it’s like I’m not even sad for the original reasons anymore, I’m just unhappy without knowing why. I think there are a lot of things I get upset about – what I’ve been through in the past, fear that I might get cancer again, feeling upset that so much has changed and I don’t feel like my old self anymore – I think that’s the biggie a the moment. (Why I’m struggling so much now, five years on, I have no idea.)
