The painful truth

Most of my life, I have pursued quality over quantity. I remember, in my 20’s buying a “little black dress”. It wasn’t cheap.  It still hangs in my closet today and I still love it and wouldn’t hesitate to wear it...Genevive even likes it. 

John and I have been building our home for 25 years. Why so long? Because we weren’t willing to compromise. Because we are not the Rockefeller’s.  We did much of the work ourselves. I wanted cedar shingles on the roof. When we got the quote, I choked. John said, if you want them...are you ready to roof? We did.

At The Good Loaf I maintained that same attitude. Even when money was tight the quality and labor intensive procedure never changed.

After 3 strokes the quality of my life changed. Obviously not for the better.  Every day became a battle ground. All my focus was on moving. I could not longer walk and look up.  My new world was reduced to staring at my feet. We were a family that did things together. We used to hike and climb in the Mount Washington valley.  We would go to Maine and kayak around the islands.  Now John and Genevive went without me. I joined them up north a few times, but as soon as they left on an adventure I would break down and sob. They felt bad, I felt bad. So I stayed home... no better. They felt bad leaving and I felt bad making them feel that way. There simply was no approach to this new family dynamic.

To say I struggled with my broken body would be down playing the reality. I hated it. I cursed it. I sobbed over it. I felt that this new version of me no longer had a purpose. I can’t tell you how many times I said to John and Genevieve, “I don’t want to be here anymore “. The world I’d lived in required all of me. I loathed the thought of being a spectator. I wasn’t comfortable relying on others. I felt useless.

Years of this negative self talk was changing my positive energy. I was Eeyore except instead of the tail, it was my whole right side. I was not going to subject others to this version of me. So I stayed in. I retreated from people.  I was unwilling to accept my “new normal” The negative talk got louder. I contemplated methods of suicide..... it  makes me so sad to say this; it’s humiliating to say this. I started this blog with a commitment to the truth. It makes me uncomfortable when people say I am tough. Nothing is further from the truth. But I simply couldn’t hurt the people that stood by me as I lay in the gutter.

I started to bleed—a telltale sign of trouble. I never had a colonoscopy. This went on for two years. I never told my family. I didn’t care enough about life. It got worse. I knew something was very wrong. Finally I went in for a colonoscopy. No surprise to me, they found cancer. I had a PET scan. The news got much worse. Cancer in the lung and liver. I met with many oncologists. It was terminal. I got my wish, I would not live past a year. There was lots of talk about chemo to extend my time but the quality of that time would be the trade. Nothing would cure me.

I made a choice. Quality over quantity. It was time to redefine myself. It was time to explore what I could offer with my broken body. It was time to find joy in the love and beauty of simply living. No, I could no longer run 10 miles, but I can spend 10 glorious minutes with my daughter. The pleasure from those moments out match any high from a long run. I no longer felt the need to achieve, I felt the need to accept what I have and be ok with it. It was LIBERATING. 

Here’s my confession. I’m not brave and I’m not tough, I made these choices after years of gut wrenching depression. I had visions of me aging and it wasn’t pretty.

The terminal diagnosis  was almost a relief. It prompted me to live it the present. As a result my depression faded. This opened the door to truly living, a door that I had closed long ago. I found that my spirit and love for people was still there. I had deep empathy for suffering. The ego grows bigger when you are surrounded with success. My shrunken ego moved aside to make room for compassion. I found a new purpose and you are reading it now. 

There are people suffering from depression around you. You may be suffering from depression. Mine went too far. If you are terminal learn to accept your death. If you are suffering deeply try to accept the circumstance and be gentle with how you are handling it. Be proud of yourself for all of the little growths you achieve. Every month requires you to readjust to the next phase of your new normal. Fear is crippling. You don’t need to waste time worrying about something that is out of your control.

What have I learned from all of this? Try not to let your sadness go too deep. Redirect the negative voice. Once you allow it to flow freely it will carve a path that you will habitually return to. If you feel your self sinking, move. Go outside. Don’t think, just do it. Live your life in the present anticipating future obstacles robs you of the moment you are in. And most importantly, please love all of yourself. I finally did.... just a little too late.