I'm 42, but I feel like I'm 82. I'm exhausted, bitter, jealous, and grieving so many things.
I need to vent somewhere I might be understood.
I feel bitter. I feel exhausted. And surprisingly, I feel jealous. I feel jealous of people who get to live normal lives. People who can be physically active, enjoy themselves, build families, have relationships, and simply live without constantly worrying about their bodies.
I feel jealous of women who still have their own breasts, their own bodies, and the freedom to live without thinking about cancer and its consequences every day.
I've been through chemotherapy, multiple surgeries, radiation, and medications like Lupron and Tamoxifen that affected me terribly. Every time I started to recover physically and emotionally, something else happened. I had to pick myself up and rebuild my strength over and over again.
Then my cancer recurred.
After the recurrence and additional treatment, I lost so much of my physical ability. My shoulders are painful and limited in movement. My back hurts. My energy is incredibly low. I wake up exhausted, even after sleeping.
I had a DIEP flap reconstruction, and even that comes with constant reminders that my body isn't the same. Sometimes I feel itching deep in my reconstructed breast or abdominal area, but because of the altered sensation, I can't even properly scratch or relieve it. It's such a strange and upsetting feeling.
I miss my natural breasts. I miss my body. I miss feeling comfortable in my own skin.
I miss being me.
And I don't even know what to grieve first.
I'm also not as mentally sharp as I used to be. Everyone tells me I'm sharp, but I know the difference. I notice my forgetfulness, my difficulty concentrating, and how much more effort things require. Between chemotherapy, radiation, endocrine treatments, and everything else, I don't feel like the person I used to be.
At the same time, I've worked incredibly hard to move forward with my life. I defended my doctoral dissertation, it's been published, and I finally started my doctoral internship after spending nearly two years unable to move forward with my career the way I wanted.
I recently moved to a new city for my internship. I genuinely love where I work, and I appreciate that this city is quieter and less overwhelming. But I'm also much lonelier here. I left behind the healthcare team that helped me function physically, including physical therapy twice a week and chiropractic care once a week and massage therapy. They enormeously helped me before the last surgery and radiation. Now I have to rebuild that support system while learning so much at my internship and managing my health.
And then there's Kisqali.
I'm supposed to start Kisqali, potentially for three years. I keep reading that it's generally well tolerated, but also I read many terribly struggle eith it. but I'm scared. I'm already so tired from radiation and everything my body has endured. I feel like I haven't even recovered from the previous treatments, and now I'm facing another long period of medication and uncertainty.
I know it may help protect me from another recurrence, and I understand why it's being recommended. But I'm afraid of losing even more of my energy, physical ability, and quality of life.
I try hard to make myself feel better. I go to coffee shops, take walks in parks, and look for opportunities to meet new people. I want to have a social life, find a partner, and enjoy being in my 40s.
But people my age are often doing activities that are physically difficult for me. When I look for gentler, less physically demanding activities, I often find myself surrounded by people much older than I am. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that, but it reminds me of how old I feel in my own body.
I'm only 42. I don't want to feel this old.
I see people building families, enjoying their relationships, being spontaneous, having energy, and living without constant physical limitations. I want those things, too.
And I feel jealous. I don't like feeling jealous, but it's there.
I know I've accomplished a lot. I know I've survived a lot. But sometimes I don't want to be told how strong I am.
I just want to feel healthy. I want my energy back. I want my shoulders to stop hurting. I want to feel mentally sharp again. I want to feel comfortable in my body. I want to have the freedom to enjoy my life.
I want to be me again.
Today, I feel deeply sad and alone. I wish I could cry, but I can't seem to.
I don't know what I'm grieving anymore because there are so many losses, and they keep accumulating.
I'm sharing this because I needed somewhere to let these feelings out, hopefully among people who understand.