We relate with Emotions

As the clock stumbles forward into the future, I ponder all the exciting moments I have made and the growth of new memories waiting to flourish. Sometimes I feel like everyday I’m a new person. Everyday I become better than who I was yesterday. Yet, I have these creative and toxic feelings, but don’t seem to comprehend the beauty from them.

Why is that a bad thing? Should we be able understand our emotions? Do you want to understand the world so that you know what’s supposed to come next, or do you adventure the mind with questions of thoughts. Which wander you through time asking yourself how did I get here.

“ I’ve been thinking too much, help me. I’m falling so I’m taking my time on this ride.” (Ride by twenty one pilots)

I always knew that writing helps me grasps the idea of my thoughts. And I know that my words are not directly punctured into easily formatted understandings. But they are felt in relatable ways?

As I write, I won’t directly shove paperweight information into your mind. But I will exercise your brain in ways that might aid you into unraveling yourself. We all have problems, none more important than others. We all have emotions, some more informal than others. But what we do have is “relatable.” Despite the situation, we have each other.

So express yourself.

Breaking free from the clouds of toxicity is my writing. What is yours?

The Trade Off

It’s Midnight, but I’m feeling the urge to flutter my words into structural understandings that will help me cope with what has yet to come. As I’m strangled by my misunderstandings and darken thoughts, I push to find the guidance I once spoke about.

For the past few months, I’ve buried the idea that I’d return to such horrid times and painful transitions. But my opportunity is near and with such a wonderful and clear future awaiting my arrival; I simply cannot turn my back now.

As I prepare for these 6 weeks of unquestionable pain. I stop to realize that life is worth much more than emotional and physical setbacks. That life is what lies ahead. That the idea of life is to wander aimlessly without hiding the fact that you’ve mistaken faults for failure. Or you have mistaken bad luck for coincidence, because without those moments you would have never felt warmth.

You might not cherish these words at the moment but I will assure you one day, you will.

I’ve been given the gift of life. I’ve traded my summer for years of happiness and unforgettable memories that have yet to come. As I embark on this procedure to fight of all the evil within my body, I know my heart is stronger than my nerves. And I know that my mind is more creative than the toxic.

I plan to be writing and updating my blog a lot during the trial. Hopefully my mind isn’t affected in ways that force me to cloud my thoughts. I hope to bring a visual journey of this situation in the future to further the understanding of what those in my situation call a normal life.

Myself; My Own Worst Enemy.

The anxiety that flows through my veins isn’t just a drug away from being solved. It’s an everlasting fear that punishes my thoughts about life and strangles myself to foresee the future. From the moment you’re diagnosed to the moment you’re set free, the mind tries to embrace the unsolved puzzles of wonder. Which challenges you to live the normal life you once had without terror.

Over the years of treatment I’ve realized that cancer isn’t my own worst enemy; I am. My conscious never allows the breathing room I once had. Therefore never fully accepting any decisions I plan to make. I’m always second-guessing myself, suffocating the idea that I could or might make a judgment so poor that my mind would never greet, like living behind bars with a non-guilty verdict.

I live today with fear of not understanding you. I’m sorry. My mind tends to wander down paths of broken mirrors forcing myself to choose. My anxiety is the wrong choice; it’s the idea of not knowing what has yet to come. But it will never stop me from achieving the unknown, the process of difference. Those moments that cherish the idea of life.

What we as a society fail to recognize is that once our hero has defeated the ultimate villain of this cancerous tale, whether it’s cancer, depression, or any other form of life threatening illness, the war is anything from over. It has just begun.

We struggle individually, only in our minds. Therefore, we struggle together, however we tend to avoid it. It’s about acknowledging your pains and facing your biggest fear. Accepting the idea that the pain you suffer isn’t just physical, but mental. Admitting, “I AM” my only opponent. Together we can change outcome, we can stand up to ourselves with the armor of courage.

But, it starts and ends with you.

I want you to know as I write for my peers and my own worst enemies. You’ll never understand me. I bleed colors of words that never make sense. You must make sense of the art I have written. Although it’s my words, it’s your inspiration.

We’re not so different You and I

“You’re so strong and brave, I don’t think I could do what you do.” Is the most common phrase cancer patients hear day in and day out. But to be honest, you’re probably right. You’d be a miserable mess of emotions, so uncontrollable that your eyes will flood with tears as you find out that someone ate the last strawberry flavored pop tart. Did I mention that it had sprinkles on it?

As the war against cancer continues, friends and family expect the soldiers of cancer to be heroic. But what they tend to miss is the logical existence of what really goes through the minds of cancer patients. We are not a different society of troops. Just because we “literally’ live life on the edge and are considered dare devils, doesn’t invalidate the idea that we are boys and girls with common interest too.

Upon being diagnosed with cancer for the 3^rd time, the personal questions that pattern my thoughts are always the most challenging to answer. As you may believe that I myself push through the horrid years of therapy pain alone; you’re wrong.

When cancer interrupts our lives. Our minds race with emotional questions. For me, it’s who do I tell, when do I tell them and why do I want to tell them. These are questions that beg for your existence, because believe it or not you are the cure for our survival.

I understand that burying you in my misfortune pressures you in ways that life has yet to prepare. But I wasn’t given a handbook either.

They always say, “When times get rough, you’ll find out who your true friends are.” As much as I try to change the accuracy of this statement, I always tend to fail.

But you: friends, family, and love ones, play an indescribable part in not just mine, but also anyone with a life threatening illness. The want to keep fighting isn’t just for personal achievement.

I thank you. You listened to me cry, rant, and whine about the overcrowding emotions that strangled my mind. You stood by me and told me that “we would get through this,” not once allowing me to feel alone. Most importantly you were my friend, my family, my hero.