if you live you will learn;
I have been working on this entry since the beginning of this month.
I stalled, not knowing how to begin.
I stumbled, not knowing what to say.
Then I realised that there will never be a right time to say goodbye, whatever I had to say would come from the depths of my heart and the words would intertwine together flawlessly.
This isn’t a comeback to LJ. I just want to leave something more than that last hurried post. I doubt I will be posting anything after this maybe the odd poem or two, but I want this to be my last entry which is why I post-dated it. I want to share and hopefully be able to touch each and everyone who reads this entry in a special way…whether you know me in real life, from somewhere online or happen to have stumbled upon here by accident.
I love you all dearly and I want to thank each and every one of you….those of you who kept in touch with me even though I expressly said I didn’t intend to stay in touch with anyone. I thought it would be easier that way, for you. Thank you to those of you who continued to ask about me through mutual friends, I got the message (: Thank you to those of you who took a step back and respected my wishes. I know you still cared.
To my offline friends - This past year has been such a mess, such an awful mess. One slight disagreement was blown out of proportion, our close knit group drifted, picking sides in a fictitious tug-of-war. If you only knew how much I miss you, I tried but you never listened. . I left without warning and you all had every right to be upset with me. I had left a huge mess in my wake by disappearing into the blue. If it wasn’t for one friend in particular, everything would still be in shambles back home. Thank you for picking up the pieces...yet again. I know it wasn’t easy for the rest of you to come to terms and I know it was hard for you to approach me again. I know each and everyone one of you care whether you said it or not <3
Throughout this ordeal, I’ve had three incredible friends sheltering and guiding me, truly angels in disguise. To a VERY special person in my life...without saying a word, you light up the dark. I love you baby. I hope that one day, soon, I’ll be able to know what it feels like to be in your arms and at least one of my dreams will come true.
I am not going to mention names, its rather obvious as to whos who, you all know who you are and how much you mean to me…This isn’t a Friends-Tribute entry either, those are more personal feelings which I have concealed in individual letters. The letters that I have left for a selected handful, friends and family, are still tucked away safely.
For probably the first time in my life I’ve had ample time to think, to reflect and to recollect...to engage in some deep "soul searching". Until now I never realised how alien I was to myself. I understood people but not myself. I had soothing words for friends, but none for myself. I focused all my energy on making sure everyone in my life was well taken care of, but I didn’t take care of myself. It was always people first, self second. Strangely enough here I am, just me, myself and I...and I’ll admit I was terrified when I started thinking things and feeling things that I had never experienced before. Suppressed emotions fought to be released, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do with myself, I didn’t understand myself. I wasn’t the ME I knew. I found myself pondering, "who is this forlorn creature trapped in my body?" I cursed cancer for tearing me apart and slashing my ambitions. I cursed the medication that rattled my nerves, infecting my very core being. I cursed myself for ignoring the warning signs and letting things get so bad. But there was no turning back.
I’ve always said I have distinct cat-like qualities, I claw first then I purr...there is probably more truth to that than I ever imagined. With everything that I have been through in my life I surely must have had nine lives. I always managed to land on my feet...maybe it was my tough "shit happens, get over it" attitude, maybe I was just lucky, I don’t know.
Nine Lives diminished...there comes a day when she won’t land on her feet.
They say people who live short lives tend to be overachievers, they are in a constant rush, they take on far too many tasks and aim to get it all done...they want to accomplish a great deal in little time. That was my defining trait. Anyone who knows me well knows I lived my life like a disastrous whirlwind, I thrived on distractions, the busier my schedule the happier I was. In the midst of all that I learned that there is no harm in being a dizzying whirlwind as long as you pause to take a breath and inhale the beauty around you...I can never stress the importance of taking the time to enjoy the simple pleasures in life even if it is just curling up on the couch with a warm cup of coffee and a good book. If you feel yourself getting frenzied, sit back, close your eyes, take a deep breath and relax...picture a calming moment and you’ll feel an inexplicable adrenalin rush. At the end of each day reflect on what you have accomplished, there should be a balance between hectic work and achieving that sense of inner calm. You should never miss the opportunity for some "me time" even if its a mere 15 minutes of reflection counting your blessings before drifting to sleep. I always felt that any day that slipped by without my sensing that inner calmness was a dreary wilted day.
Its easier said than done I know. When my father passed away in March, the first few days that followed were all a blur, I can’t recall anything but when I finally snapped out of it I only had one thought flashing through my mind: "Get busy. Get busy. Get busy." I went through the same thing when Dan and I officially split and in the process of desperately trying to erase the hurt he caused me I ended up hurting myself more. There used to be a time when silence was calming yet with everything piling up on me, deafening silence shrieked in my ears driving me to wreck and ruin. I couldn’t sleep, I forgot to eat, I couldn’t even carry on a decent conversation...I was a maniac. All it took was one harsh awakening that zapped me out of nowhere...I don’t how or when it hit but I knew reality was catching up with me faster than I could run. I didn’t want to be inflicted with cancer...I missed the comfort Dan would have given me and I missed the advice my dad would have shared with me. I lost the two most important people in my life literally one after another. I pushed myself too far, I forgot to take a time out and I completely fell to pieces. I don’t know how I would have risen to my feet if I didn’t have friends who dropped everything to care for me, drove hours to come see me, or were just there across the miles with words of comfort all through the night.
We all go through those dreaded days that feel like Hell on Earth...you find yourself slumped in the corner still wearing yesterday’s wrinkled clothes, your fingernails encrusted with cigarette ash, your face flushed from crying, your hair a tangled mess, your soul torn into pieces by toxic tears, limp and barely breathing. Even then, count your blessings, it helps...count the simple things; whether it be a gentle smile from a stranger, a loving glance from a friend, or even a simple "I love you" ...sights, sounds, smells, feelings. It’s the simplest things we tend to ignore, the simplest things that we take for granted...yet it’s the simplest things that mean the most, that have the power to make your heart flutter and your spirit soar. It’s the simple things that tenderly heal bruises.
"We should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once. And we should call every truth false which was not accompanied by at least one laugh."
- Friedrich Nietzche
I’ve always been very outspoken by nature. I blurt out things before they even have a chance to cross my mind and be analyzed and unlike any other normal person I don’t feel guilty for sharing my honest opinion. A close friend once told me he admired me for never shying away from speaking my mind. It’s both a gift and a curse. I could never control my speech but I had a very stronghold on emotions. Thanks to my mother who scoffed at me and basked in glory when I showed I was visibly upset by her constant quips, subconsciously I had learnt to block out what I considered "weak feelings" ...any emotion I felt was automatically transformed into anger...pure fist-clenching, rage-throwing anger. It got worse as the months dragged on here, the medication being pumped into my body had my hormones in such an upheaval strapping me unwillingly onto an emotional rollercoaster. I found myself battling a baffling Dr.Jekyll-Mr.Hyde complex. I was thinking and feeling things I had never experienced in my entire life, and my natural instincts continued to try to suppress them...the anger continued to build, add that to my explosive blurting and what resulted was very very ugly indeed. I could seriously kick my hiney over the pathetic issues I lost my head over. It was completely uncharacteristic of me, I never let emotions control my sense of judgement. I have always been a boundless carefree soul. I can never express how sorry I am to those who unwittingly became my victims, directly and indirectly.
Jealousy, anger and contempt...filthy stains on a pure soul. These are such strong yet petty emotions that leave great catastrophe in their wake, not to mention an awful waste of energy that could have served much better purpose being channelled positively elsewhere. I had to come this far before I finally understood that there is no harm in crying, its actually more fulfilling than anger. I rarely ever cried before, now I find myself choking back tears throughout the day, and at night I spend hours on end locked in the bathroom, huddled in a corner crying my heart out. I’ve cried more in the last two months alone than I have cried in all the years of my life put together. It almost seems as though I am compensating for all the crying I never did over the years. I’d rather cry and let it all out than let shards tipped with anger pierce my body, mind and soul.
"Holding anger is a poison…It eats you from the inside. We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But hatred is a curved blade. And the harm we do, we do to ourselves."
- The Five People you Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albon
Its amazing the oddities that drift through your mind when you are confined in a room for months on end. I used to wander the streets freely back home after dark, running through wet grass barefoot, spinning around in gentle rain, claiming throne atop the highest spot on the jungle gym reining over a magical midnight kingdom, or ambling through a forest-cloaked area in the dead of the night...I would clamber up a tree and contemplate, drinking in the serene sounds of nature with the occasional interruption of a lonely car passing by. I miss being able to wander freely, but at least I am not trapped in a concrete jungle, my room has a beautiful view to a Birch tree grove. Today I sat at my window sill staring at the morning sunshine filtering in through the boughs in a gentle golden mist of pixie dust, I imagined that the grove was home to woodland sprites... possibly dainty faeries, impish gnomes, diligent brownies. Nature always has such a remarkably soothing effect on my jittery nerves.
It has been nine months since I was diagnosed in March. I’ve spent six months in Norway, thinking and rethinking, recoiling, resurfacing...and finally being able to inhale a deep breath before taking the dreaded plunge into frigid waters. There are all sorts of warriors on this battlefield...there are those who fight because they can see a glimmer of hope and those who know they are treading on brittle bones who hesitate to take the first steps towards letting go. I have never been a quitter and I am not giving up now...I have merely overcome my fear of letting go. When fear glared at me I snarled back at it. The multitude of treatments didn’t scare me, I could bear the pain. I was just afraid of letting go. I have been desperately clinging on to a fraying lifeline. There have been medical miracles, but I am not one of them. There is no glimmer of hope for me, they can’t do anything to make me better, and all they are doing is slowing down the process. Slowing it down and slowing me down...everything they are injecting into me is making me weaker by the day. I can’t live my life like I used to anymore. There are days when I stay curled up in bed because I can’t bring myself to sit up...and I hide beneath the covers and I cry, and I don’t know why I cry but I do.
To quote Oscar Wilde: "To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people just exist, that is all."
I did live once, but lately I had been going through robotic rituals...barely existing let alone living. I don’t want to fade away into nothing, I don’t want to lose that inner "ME". Yet here I am, enslaved by chemicals...chemicals that are gnawing at me incessantly. I hate what its doing to me, crippling my thoughts and ensnaring my emotions...I’ve been forcing smiles but my eyes have clearly betrayed me. This is the only way I can break free. I want to smile like I mean it, I want to smile with my heart. I would rather live a few weeks being myself and spreading any sort of joy I can than laying in bed motionless and miserable with glazed bloodshot eyes. I’ve always wanted to make my mark in this world...and I knew that when my time came I wanted to be remembered as the girl with twinkling eyes and a magical smile.
I promised Shane I wouldn’t make any hasty decisions at least until my current treatment cycle is over. I’m two weeks away from completing it, in a couple of days I have a meeting with the oncologist to decide what to do next. I promised Shane that I would make it through one more birthday, one more Christmas, usher in one more new year... He reminds me so much of my father, I look at him and I feel the same reassurance that radiated from my dad. Shane has cared for me so preciously and been so understanding, Michaela my sister-in-law has been equally nurturing and patient. Even from afar Adele and Sarah have never lost faith in me. Most importantly, I cannot let the kids watch me fall apart, Adam and Farrah here who are ever so generous with warm hugs, my four darling angels across the miles who have a never-ending store of wonderful words an aunt loves to hear. I simply cannot disappoint my family.
I kept a long list of things I wanted to do before I died in the back of my "jotter journal" which I used to scribble down randomness that popped into my mind. (I did scan the pages and I may post them later) I have well over a hundred "to-dos" and as I was flipping through the pages I felt relieved when I noticed I’ve actually achieved most of them. I had done almost everything I had intended to do for people, and I’m glad I was able to do them...the only incomplete accomplishments are "ME things". There are still some things I can try to do...getting something published, spotting a shooting star, sending a message in a bottle adrift across the ocean, and there some things that I can do over. Then there are the more important things that I need to turn my attention to...appreciating the simple things in life - my family and friends, showing that I care, sharing more love, trusting and believing, holding on to hope and having faith.
The only thing I fear is fear itself and I don’t intend to fall into its clutches again. "Being happy doesn’t mean that everything is perfect...it means you have decided to look beyond its imperfections." My father had that quote framed and hanging in his study. The most important thing is to remain true to yourself.
"Be yourself. Above all, let who you are, what you are, what you believe shine through every sentence you write, every piece you finish."
- John Jakes
Do something, be someone, leave your mark...an invincible impression in hearts, minds and etched in memory for eternity.
Everyone has a purpose in life, a reason for living, we have people who need us desperately, we have people who cherish us dearly. I was worried that I would be leaving behind loved ones who still needed me, especially a precious little one who has been the light of my life for the past 12 years. But then I realised I won’t be abandoning anyone, that I will continue living in their hearts, watching over from afar, being an invisible guiding hand, because after all we are not dead until we are forgotten.
It took a while but I know that no matter what happens, no matter how soon...I’ve done all that I could have done. Despite my setbacks I have lived my life to the fullest, I have tried to touch as many lives as I could and I have made a difference. I’ve loved...I’ve lived and I’ve learned...and now, I’ve shared.
♥
November 19th 2006
Oslo, Norway
1:22am
14 days until my birthday
35 days until Christmas
42 days until New Years