I’ve been avoiding writing for a while.  I keep thinking about things I want to say and get off my chest and I’ve even spoken them aloud as if to burn it in my brain for later recall.  Mostly, though, I’ve been reading and waiting.

The last 10 days have been an interesting roller coaster.  I’ve had some intense moments of flashing back to horrible parts of my relationship and then have had some amazing moments of happiness in appreciating a good moment I was experiencing.  For the most part, I’ve been pretty good about not worrying over the things I can’t control.  I haven’t been obsessing about my treatment or all the side effects, though it’s impending inevitability has been looming overhead.  What propelled me to write  was this one weird thought that gripped my chest for a second and raised my anxiety.

Today is the last day I will never have had chemotherapy.

After tomorrow I will forever more be a woman who has been through chemotherapy.  There will always be this.  Today, I had an appointment with a second oncologist for a second opinion and he mentioned more than once how rare a complete molar pregnancy is.  Naturally, in my super-hyper-amazingly- healthy brain the thought that immediately follows is: Why me?

From all my wonderful reading I can recognize this as a victim framed question.  I don’t agree with saying why is this happening for me instead of to me but that may be because I’m just not that enlightened yet.  The trick for me, is to not ask the question at all.  After all, why implies a reason and while it fits neatly in the human brain box it might just be the case that there’s not a reason for everything.  Maybe there is, though- what the hell do I know?

Hmm.  Well, I do know at least this:  much as the Boy would have me believe (and would often tell me) that “I’m not living in reality”  there is no group of people “living in reality” due to the very nature of how reality must be perceived.  Every single person on the planet perceives the world and their experiences different from any other person and while we can all agree that much of us have a close enough experience that we can communicate and understand one another, that certainly doesn’t mean that one person who disagrees with someone else’s logic is somehow experiencing the one true reality and the other person isn’t.  What an arrogant assumption on his part.

This is my reality.  Every moment I breathe, I am living my life and I have to make the conscious effort to improve my thoughts, my words, my habits, and my actions.  Not for anyone else but for myself.  At the end of each day I want to sleep easy, no regrets about my thoughts or actions or those of others.  I want to know myself well enough and be strong enough to excise anyone in my life that just isn’t worthy of my time and devotion.  I want to heal from this rare medical problem and heal from my giant mistake of a relationship.  Both will take time but both are easily heal-able.  I want to keep learning, growing, and having fun in life.  What else is there?

So, this is it.  This will be the last thing I write before chemotherapy.  What wonderful thing is past Haley going to say to future Haley?

You are you.  A mistake you have trouble forgiving will not change you, loving the wrong person will not change you, a miscarriage will not change you and chemotherapy will not change you.  They affect you, but they do not change you.  You are who you have always been.  You are kind, funny, thoughtful, intelligent, genuine, loyal, and strong.  Lean on your friends and family so that when this is all done, you can be there for them.

Here’s to healing.

-Pre-chemo self