I'm tired...

I'm tired. Really, really tired. I just spent another 5 days in the hospital from pancreatitis and now that I'm finally home I can't believe how draining the hospital is. Every time I come out of there I feel more all things sick. It's exhausting.

Today was the first day I looked in the mirror and saw a sick person. My eyes looked sunken in, my skin was ghostly white and my hair has lost all its shine. Getting ready to fall out any day now I'm sure. It's so hard to look in the mirror and see a shell of the person you used to be. What's even worse is you feel that same way inside too. Socializing is getting harder and harder. I don't feel up to much. I have no desire to talk on the phone. So I just look in the mirror and think, "Who is this person? Is she temporary? Will I ever find the real me again?"

I'm tired of this battle already and I'm not even half way done. I spend way too much time longing for future days when I go from a cancer fighter to a cancer survivor. The road between those two is much bumpier than I had anticipated. More tears, more feeling lost, and more anxiety than I ever saw coming.

I am so sick of leaving my kids. I feel so guilty. It eats at me in my sleep. I feel like I'm over pleading in my prayers to just let me be a mom. Let me be here. I was sooo excited for my week of no treatment to spend with my kids and I landed myself in the hospital the whole time. Every day I was in there I thought of them. I would close my eyes and picture what we would be doing if I was home. I could hear their laughs and feel their tiny hands. And then I would open my eyes and stare at the wall. And instead hear the beeping of heart monitors and feel the medicines burning my veins. It was then I would get angry. I would wonder what I did to deserve this. Ask why me? Wonder why life couldn't be more fair and just let me be with my babies. Wonder how I got into this mess and wonder if I was being punished for some past bad deed.

I am a cancer fighter and I'm tired. I have good days and bad days. I'm not perfect. I don't pretend to be. I am so strong and so weak sometimes. I hurt. I cry. I laugh. I smile through the pain. I have moments of pure clarity and moments of agonizing despair. I am fighting a monster that I don't know if I will win. But I'm fighting. For my kids, my husband, my family, my friends and myself.

There will come a day when I'm on the other side of this beast and I will remember that it only hurt so hard while I was fighting because I had so much to lose. So I will not be ashamed of my tears anymore. They come from a desire to live for everything I have. And that is not a bad thing.