Welcome back! I tried numerous times to work on my blog this past year, but with working from home, returning to work, a raging pandemic, and keeping up with my overall health, my blog took a backseat. 

My goal is to pick this back up to share my post-treatment experience thus far AND to create a safe space to express all my feels openingly, like I have been able to in the past. 

April 2021. A different place.

I started a new job a little over 4 months ago. A next step in my career, with more responsibilities, better pay, and (loosely) in an art-related field. I felt like, this is it! A place for me to show what I am capable of, to be heard, a leader and trusted partner. And I can say with certainty, that yes, all of the above has been true, but a part of me still feels as though something is missing. It feels like this isn’t right and it hasn’t been sitting well with me. I’ve been finding excuses as to why I’ve been feeling this way.. maybe it’s the company, their processes, the people? Maybe I miss my old colleagues, that sense of comfort I grew so accustomed to?

This overwhelming feeling caught up with me at an inopportune time. I want to preface this by saying that I understand how important mental health truly is to everyone, and in my case, as a cancer survivor. And I am not afraid to say that I’m in the process of seeking assistance.

I experienced what I would describe as a breakdown, emotionally / mentally, on a department Zoom meeting. It was just a few minutes in, and I guess I don’t have as great of a poker face as I thought. I must have seemed unhappy, which promoted my supervisor to ask “are you okay?” And I lost it… not in an angry, yelling kind-of-way, but in a uncontrollable, can’t stop the tears from streaming down my eyes-way. 

I stepped away from the call, telling them that I needed a minute to collect myself. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t pull myself back together in the minutes that followed. I could not stop crying. How could I be so unhappy, so upset? I did not and could not return to the meeting. For the first time in a long time, I let my emotions show through my thick layers of self-preservation. I felt so exposed and embarrassed. It left a visible crack in the pristine brick wall that I built for myself. And I realize now, there is no taking that back. 

Later that morning, I spoke with my supervisor, who was concerned. I had also texted her that I was over it and didn’t know if this was the right place for me. Not one of my finest moments, but the most honest I’ve ever been with a supervisor. Our conversation was reassuring and concentrated on work-related concerns. Although I was honest in that text, I wasn’t comfortable being as open about my emotions and feelings about what really prompted that message – it didn’t feel safe, if that makes sense? 

I put something out there, something in the universe, and it has me thinking about my choices ever since. 

Part of me feels like I rushed into this job to prove a point; that I could do it and that I could move on and forward. Was I ready, physically, emotionally, mentally, to do so? Thinking back… As soon as I could, I rushed back to work after surgery a few years ago. I didn’t think twice about taking extra time off and now, I wish I did. I rarely second guess my decisions (it’s the Taurus in me), but looking back, I wish that girl took a break to recover from recovering… that she took her time deciding when it was the right time, not to prove it anyone else or to herself, but out of courtesy for her health and well-being. I’m afraid I’m now feeling the effects of those decisions and I’m slowly realizing how much my diagnosis has affected the path I was on. 

I’m now on a path to rediscovering myself, my wants, desires, interests because I feel what I wanted pre-diagnosis, pre-cancer, isn’t what I want now. Cancer has changed me, no matter how much I choose not to admit it or acknowledge it. It’s been mentally draining to fight against something that has had such a major impact on me, regardless of how much I choose to move past it. 

It’s been almost 3 years and I’m still learning from this experience. I’m still growing. And most importantly, I’m still recovering. I may not look like it, but I have demons to fight, issues I’m working on, and concerns that can sometimes take so much time away. I’m human… and I’m still here. 

Moving forward, I would like to use this platform as my recovery journal – sharing my story, one fab piece at a time. Thank you for reading this.