If you're reading this, you're very likely familiar with these posts by now. The ones dated after my surgery. You know I'll whine and probably still feel hopeful. I'll write about how sucky some things are, but that I'm working through and have had bits of joy along the way. It's a recipe. I'm trying to heal and understand.
I found out recently that a dear friend of mine had a malignant tumor in her lung. I was slain. My first thoughts were of her and her family and their fears and their futures. I could envision her. Them. And I could imagine them together, supporting each other and loving each other. But I am sad and worried for them. I am sad and worried for my friend. And if we're all lucky, she'll have the opportunity to fight and flourish because the world isn't yet ready to be without her loving spirit.
And then I felt relief because I really dodged a bullet. Things could have been much worse than they were and that could have been my family huddled together for support and love. Instead, I'm at home, I'm back at work, I'm making plans to do the fun stuff that I missed. I wouldn't say I feel guilty to be in this part of my illness/recovery. I feel lucky.
But it hasn't been without its sacrifices. Luckily, I wasn't planning on having any more children. I'm lucky this happened at this point in my life where I didn't have to make the kind of decision between child-bearing or a hysterectomy. There are pregnant women at work, and I am confronted with this thought every day. They are young and just starting their families. I don't envy them, and I don't regret or feel bad about my decision. I just feel lucky, which seems to me to be a weird feeling to have. Even after all the shit I've been through, I still feel lucky. I feel lucky to have had a partial hysterectomy and to have removed the cancer when what I think I should feel is angry that I had those problems at all. Because though I'm happy to not be bleeding anymore, I still can't tell you that I'm glad I had the surgery. I wish it hadn't been necessary because it's caused so much turmoil for me in its wake.
I could be dramatic and say that I don't know how much more my heart can take, but I'm sure we all know that in the end, I'm tough and will endure. And if you know me at all, you must know that I'm fairly dramatic, so what else would you expect? Maybe this will be the thing that helps me find my voice again. I hate confrontation so much, it makes me so uncomfortable, that I shut my mouth. I don't say what I really mean, I say instead what I don't really mean, and I don't ask for what I want. And right up until 4am this morning, I thought I didn't ask because I didn't deserve, but since then, it's occurred to me for perhaps the first time that I deserve it. I've been afraid that when I ask for what I want from someone and they don't want to or won't give it to me, it meant I wasn't deserving. Only now, only this morning, did I think that maybe the problem isn't internal. Yes, not asking denied the other person or people the choice, but it also protected me from rejection.
Anyway, my point is that not getting what I ask for makes me feel like I'm not worthy. I put the onus on myself. Today, for at least the last few moments of my morning, I begin to feel that if I don't get what I ask for, if I don't voice what I want, it's not because I'm not worthy. It could be a lot of things, but it isn't because I'm not deserving.
Speaking up, though, when you don't usually, can make life difficult for those who have gotten used to you deferring to them. It can be uncomfortable and I might still be sad and disappointed. And really, I am sad. I am disappointed. Because here are some things in my life that I want:
- Not to be lied to. It's not a confusing or complicated thing. Don't lie to me, don't hide things from me, don't omit the truth. Certainly don't lie to me or hide things from me and then say it's for MY benefit. It's not. I don't prefer the lie or the feeling of being lied to. It breaks my heart. I feel cheated and disrespected and insignificant. Saying the lie is for me makes me feel stupid. Lies aren't comforting or nurturing, they're insulting and hurtful. It's not my fault if you decide to hide the truth from me. Your truth might slay me, but don't deny me the choice, and, shit, it's not like my response ist unusual. Wouldn't most people feel the same way? Wouldn't you?
- To be appreciated as an entirely autonomous human being who has wants and needs. I want you to see this movie with me even if you don't want to. It isn't your sacrifice I'm after, and it isn't that I get off on imposing my will on you. It's the acknowledgment that you know this means a lot to me and that's reason enough to do it. It's also acknowledging that I wouldn't have asked if it didn't mean something to me.
- To be heard. My words to your heart with my intent overriding your interpretation. Because it isn't always about you. Because I pick my words carefully, and I usually pick my battles carefully, too. If I am saying something this way, it's usually deliberate.
- To stop apologizing for or accommodating others so much. I do this thing where I say I want something and then go, "But I know you're busy" or "I know you've already got a lot going on, so you don't have to if you don't want to." Or you cancel on me and I say okay instead of saying, "I'm so bummed about that!" because I don't want you to feel bad. I try to protect your feelings at the expense of my own. That's on me, that's a choice I make, and so this one's something I can do something about.
It's my fault to have fallen into some of these routines that hold me back. It's my choice to have not asked for your time or respect or your honesty. I don't speak up about what I want, especially if it conflicts with what you want. I don't like to ask you to get out of your comfort zone. It's hard for me to ask for anything. It's so hard, in fact, that it was my homework this week. I was supposed to ask for something. One thing. Anything. One thing in one week. I didn't even know where to start. I didn't even know what counted and what didn't, which sounds silly, doesn't it? And then I didn't really know what was supposed to happen after I asked. I hadn't thought about it that far, I guess, because I expected a no and wouldn't know what to do with a yes. How would I measure success? A yes? Actually, I'm pretty certain the success was me asking, never mind the response. The asking helps to break through my anxiety and change my habitual thoughts. Growing up as an observant second oldest of five children taught me not to ask for anything when you should be grateful for what you already have. Asking is a sign of ungratefulness.
Behaviors are reinforced by their consequences, right? I'm tired of feeling like I'm gasping for air. I'm tired of feeling lied to, overridden, not heard. I'm sick of feeling guilty for asking for what I want and being disappointed if I don't get it, especially when the things I'm asking for are simple shit: do what you say you're going to do; mean what you say; give me a break every now and then because I'm not perfect, either. I wish I could resolve here and now to stop crying over other people. Leslie and Merf are probably onto something, and if I asked Mahana, she'd probably agree. Better to know if the investment is misplaced than to keep blindly investing.
It's easy to acknowledge that I need to go back to the gym to strengthen my muscles and to find a healthy weight. I know how to challenge the muscle groups that need my attention. Likewise, I feel like I need to establish new routines and personal rules that will help me be happier in all my relationships. I need to speak up more. I need to stand up for myself. It's like I've been out of the emotional gym for a long time and I need to go back and strengthen my core. I need to stop worrying about other people so much.
Sigh. It is all so much easier in theory than in practice. So I'll tie up this lumbering blog with a few thoughts of gratitude. I'm glad today is Wednesday and I get to talk to Mahana. I'm so lucky and thankful for the many of you who have reached out to me the last day or two. It's heartening that you wouldn't even allow me to censor you, and instead told me how you feel and passed on your thoughts.
I search for strength. I search for peace. I search for a way to calm this anger and feeling of betrayal. I seek balance. I seek to quell this unease, this feeling like I'm missing something pivotal that will eventually reach out and break me. I search for wisdom to know how to help my friend-- to know what to say and do because I'm not a particularly nurturing person. I search for happiness.
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