Living Out Loud

I’ve noted that I’ve been feeling a little lost. It was nine months of crisis mode, and then you’re done. Well, kinda done.

I’m excited to be “back”–whatever that means–but I don’t really remember what it was like before all this. Cancer changes your fucking life.

In one of my “flattie” groups, I asked for some advice on how I should approach re-entering my workplace, and instead I got a slew of “why would you ever tell anyone about it” comments. Why would you share everything?

Listen. I’ve been living out loud for my entire life. I know what comes with it. I don’t recommend it, but I refuse to live YOUR way because I make you uncomfortable by being open and honest about it.

I thought outing myself as a mental health warrior was bad but jesus I didn’t not expect the adamant opposition over talking about your experience with CANCER.

Again, not for everyone to put it on a blog. But like mental health, why are we not talking about this? Do you know how many lives would be saved if we had talked about getting breast cancer before 40? Maybe my local surgeon wouldn’t have called me a “rare” case when I’m really not. Once again, opening up about cancer has opened up secret doors – people come out of the woodwork and share their stories once they know mine. I learned a lot this way.

I heard a lot of “I didn’t want it to define me” as a reason to not even mention the word cancer. Is it, then, that talking about it makes it who I am? One went so far to say it was attention-seeking to talk about cancer. (Though, to be fair, I think I’ve been told I was “attention-seeking” for opening my mouth about anything ????‍♀️)

Pretty sure I remember people saying the same thing to me when I talked about my mental health journey.

(God, if this is what I do to seek attention, then I’m a masochist.)

I didn’t want to write about mental health but I went – and go – through it. Sharing made it easier for others to do so. Some people feel less alone when they know others who went through it. At least, I do.

I didn’t want to have a miscarriage or get cancer. I don’t want to tell people my husband and I are separating or that I haven’t been ok but it’s fucking LIFE. If I tell you I’m pan, is that because I want the spotlight?

As you know, the “spotlight” isn’t always good. There are people who judge you or have a particular view of you. I can deal with that. But this is why people get complexes. It’s not safe to share. Yay for talking about mental health but don’t ever mention cancer or divorce or miscarriage.

Do you really expect someone going through these things to maintain their “everyday” existence?

I know we’d all like to think work and life are separate, but most of us spend more hours at work than we do elsewhere, and sometimes, they bleed into each other. I’m the type to let people know what’s going on because it might impact things at work. And it has. Do I want to admit that? No. Do I need to share it with the “world”? Absolutely not. But can’t it be ok to share whatever you’re comfortable with folks with whom you have relationships that there are certain things impacting you?

Maybe cancer is defining me now. But forever? Nah. Add it to the list.

To quote Walt Whitman:

Do I contradict myself?

Very well then I contradict myself,

(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

Cancer defines me like every experience in my life has defined me.

I am struggling with it; yes. I’m also seeking ways in which to move forward. I don’t know why, but cancer is one of those things where people just don’t know what to say, how to act around you. And despite being vocal about my own experiences, chemo makes your cancer visible. Then not being able to show up to the office for long periods of time.

I am at a point in my career where I should be visible. I love my job and it, in part, fulfills my life goals. Things beyond my control are happening and yeah, it impacts me. Not just bad timing but side effects from treatment, too.

Brain fog is embarrassing. Having to reschedule shit on the daily because some important treatment makes me feel unprofessional. And while I am beyond happy with my surgical decision and results, there’s some adjustment that comes with losing body parts. Saying goodbye to clothes that are no longer flattering. Adjustment after adjustment.

I know people don’t know what to say. I don’t, either. I don’t know how to navigate this. But I want to figure out how to move forward, and for me who enjoys a visible job, that might involve having an open dialogue about it. There’s nothing wrong with getting cancer like there’s nothing wrong with seeking help for mental health reasons. Nor sharing a miscarriage or being part of the LGBTQ+ community. Or separating when it’s not working…

I’d like to end there, but I suppose this is the consequence of “living out loud.” ????????????????

Yes, we are separating. Bad timing. It’s easy to feel sorry for me if you know my side of the story. There is more to it, I assure you. And there are two sides it, and I can confirm I had a hand in it.

As we told the kids, we have not been nice to each other. An oversimplification but accurate. We’re lucky, though, because we are two human beings who can make this work as a team, no matter the outcome our marriage. Kids are number one, of course. But there’s 30 years of friendship and history there, and that’s something we want to maintain. Who does it suit to be nasty to each other?

I’ll go one further and bring the mental health aspect into this. I was NOT ok. One should not expect oneself to be okay after alllllllllllllllllllllll the things that have happened…not that people expect you to but I had to admit that after being upbeat for 9 months of treatment, the feelings came in a tidal wave.

I’ll save the story but I reached out to my person, who in turn told me to reach out to my therapist. Something wasn’t right, and we were able to figure out the new hormone suppresser pill was part of it (it can cause depression).

The oldest is also in therapy. With everything that’s happen in our lives, it’s hard to imagine a situation where it doesn’t impact you. She loves her therapist and was excited before we told them the news. She’s still excited to go back. I hope that I’m not betraying her confidence here, but it’s important to emphasize kids need a boost, too. When I was a kid, therapy was not cool. I cannot tell you how happy I was to see her not just accept the resource but embrace and love it. It hasn’t been long at all but I can already see some new skills.

I hope the future E reading this knows I gossiped about her for a good cause. 😉 And hopefully she and M can forgive their dad and I. Not because it’s happening but because we should have addressed it sooner. Life doesn’t always deliver a happy ending. What else can you do but learn and move forward? And show your kids it’s okay to do the same. I’m not a perfect human nor parent, but I’m not afraid to tell my kid I fucked up and I’m sorry (and learn a lesson, of course! ????).

To bring it back around, I’ve had enough of the “out loud” part for tonight. 😉