fuck you, 2018!
2018 has been one motherfucker of a year. I was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 34, spent most of the year undergoing treatments and in the process, lost my hair and whatever sense of self I had come to know. I was filled with self-doubt and not knowing what the next day would hold – more treatments, blood work, appointments, crying, anger, lumps… It was a tough realization for someone who had thought she knew her path in life.
Yet, somehow I got through it all. I have the scars, anxiety, fear, and a smaller boob to prove it, but I also have stronger friendships, love, and a life to be grateful for. When experiencing the worst that life has to offer, it can be difficult to see the good, to want to see anything but the shit-filled hand you’ve been dealt.
I’m constantly reminding myself that I’m still here… well enough to complain about nonsense everyday things, well enough to still want a collection of Louis Vuitton handbags, well enough to celebrate another Christmas with my hubby, and well enough to think about my future and want to experience so much more.
I have no idea what 2019 has in store for me, but I know that I’m ready for it. I’m ready for a new year, a fresh start. I survived 2018. I survived my diagnosis. I survived my treatments. In the upcoming months I’ll have my first scan since completing my treatments, more blood work, and more lupron injections. However, I conquered each uneasy day this past year, one step at a time and I’ll continue to do so the best I can… I know I can face whatever new, crazy, scary moment because of these fucked up things I went through in 2018. So I guess in the end, I somehow grew from these experiences – stronger, (not-so-much) wiser, braver, and badass-ier.