Habit Turned Flaw

After reading my post from last night, Rebekah informed me she had written a response and to my shock, she was not hurt by the post or anything. But told me I wasn't quite open enough. So she wanted me to post the below. Proud of her vulnerability. - Melanie

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I don’t write blog posts often. Throughout this journey I think I have only done one or two. I am my mother’s daughter through, so I write. A lot. I feel like maybe if I write what’s on my heart today, I can release these emotions and help someone else in the process. 

First, cancer sucks. Watching someone go through treatment, and yet they are always positive so you feel like you can’t tell them you are scared sucks. Being a kid sucks already, but my peers are typically not emotionally mature enough to support me. And frankly most adults are the same way. So I easily find myself pushed to the side. That sucks. Being told “whatever happens is God’s will” sucks because at this rate I don’t know if I like His will or not. Being told “that’s something you should pray about” sucks just as bad. 

Second, here is what I have learned is the most effective way to cope as a person affected by cancer. Writing is key. It’s okay if you have to burn the papers sometimes until you are ready for others to see. Recognize when you are having a bad day and give yourself a break. Do something you enjoy. It’s okay if the bad days are in a row. That’s normal. It’s also normal to be in denial and not feel anything yet. Hair dye can work miracles. Dying your hair in support of the cancers awareness can allow you to talk about cancer in a non emotional way which can help normalize it as your reality. It’s okay if you are upset at the patient. You are allowed to still disagree and handle it in a respectful way like you would anyone else. 

And finally, here is my advice of what to say and do rather than the previously mentioned words that hurt me. I made it in steps so that it is easier to follow. 

1. Ask if they are doing okay in general and if they say yes then ask specifically about cancer if they seem open to it. 

2. If they choose not to share, tell them that you are here for them (bonus points if you say you will be checking up on them and then actually follow through with it)

3. If they choose to share first recognize the emotion and experience by saying something like “I can’t imagine how much that hurts," but never compare your personal cancer experience unless the same person in relation to you had cancer at roughly the same age.

4. Then ask how you can support them. More than likely they will not have an answer. Let them know that you want to support them and to reach out if they can think of anything

That’s all I can think of that I want to say, but I wanted to also share a poem I wrote about cancer. I wrote it back in December. I call it Habit Turned Flaw.

Habit Turned Flaw

I am not who my friends need.

I am not who my boyfriend needs.

I am not who my sister needs.

I am not who my mom needs

I am not who my dad needs.

I have this bad habit.

It started when I was twelve.

Dad had just been diagnosed with cancer.

I know that I am not the doctors 

So I know couldn’t help medically 

But I could research.

I find out many things about cancer treatments

More specifically Lynch syndrome.

But one footnote I pay close attention to:

A positive mindset can help a patient’s results.

This was my golden ticket.

I did everything I was asked to.

I never asked if I could do anything with my friends.

I made the highest grades possible.

I denied myself the luxury of a childhood

So that he might be proud and smile for a minute 

And maybe, just maybe, forget about cancer.

Perfectionism has become my fatal flaw.

Trapped in a cage I created.

My project started small- 

Get the grades so that Dad doesn’t worry-

But it spread like the plague inside of me.

An impossible invisible burden lays on my shoulders

Everyone’s happiness depends on me.

Depends on my perfection.

I am not who my friends need.

I am not who my boyfriend needs.

I am not who my sister needs.

I am not who my mom needs

I am not who my dad needs

- Rebekah