The Brave Girl vs The Bitter Girl

“You’re so brave and free-spirited!” I smiled sadly at my friend, sipping on some more coffee. How I wish that were true, I thought to myself.

You see, I seem to have lost all hope. Now, don’t get too worried about me –I do this often; I will pursue a potential cure for my illness, get my hopes up high, see them dashed, cry for a day or two, and then go back to square one. And I will find something else, and I will get my hopes up again, only to see them crumble once again. It’s a vicious cycle, and more often than not, one that leads me toward a spout of depression, during which I will lose all hope, do nothing, feel nothing but sorry for myself and the situation I find myself in, and perhaps most pronounced of all, I will feel this overwhelming sense of bitterness toward everything and everyone. I write this week's post on the back end of one of these episodes, and so I apologise in advance for the upsetting post.

Bitterness. It’s not a great feeling, and unfortunately for me, it’s a feeling I feel all too often. I see my friends and family achieve so much in their lives, both professional and personal, and I will feel so proud and happy for them, and then within a split second, I will feel bitterness – not toward them or their achievement, but toward myself and my debilitating situation which leaves me unable to accomplish what I once hoped to. My friends have gone on to accomplish so much since completing our degrees – they’ve found jobs, having completed PGCs and Masters, and what have I done with my degree? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. My certificate is filed away in a folder, of no use to anyone. I started a second degree in Islamic Studies, completed one semester, and then found out I was starting chemotherapy, and so that project got shelved too. Nothing seems to amount to anything, and it’s a very depressing situation to be in.

And that’s nothing compared to the personal turmoil Faisal and I find ourselves in. Our lives have screeched to a halt, and where we see all our friends move on with their lives, get married, have children, we find ourselves stuck. Anyone who knows me even a little bit, knows the one thing I wanted most in life – to be a mum. And it’s that one thing which seems like it’s never going to happen. I see pregnant women in town or pass a shop displaying children’s clothes and I’m reminded of the greatest loss this diagnosis has brought me. And on particularly bad days, I sit and do nothing but cry, and even that doesn’t help. The longing is worse than the bitterness, the fear outweighs every ounce of bravery and the bleak future overshadows any hope.

And then it’s time to go out into the world again, and I wipe away the tears and once again put on this facade of the brave, free-spirited girl who just happens to be fighting cancer.

Lesson of the Day:

- I have no lesson this week – if I did, I would be the first to implement it and you wouldn’t be reading this rather depressing post. But this week has just been one of those weeks – where you just don’t feel like fighting anymore, and rather than pretend like it's been anything else, I thought I'd write honestly. Here's hoping next week is better.