I admit, I am different. There. I said it. Many times I feel like I’m out of place ~ and sometimes when I speak, my hubby has to translate what I’m saying. It’s not that I’m speaking Spanish or any other language at the time. It’s just that sometimes, I think differently than others and it doesn’t quite translate when I try to explain myself.
For example, like today, I enjoy getting one of those emails that has a goofy gobbling singing turkey ~ and I like to send it along! Mind you, I try to only send it to those whom I think will giggle at the gobbler, but sometimes my giggling gobbler is met with annoyance. For as much as I’m busy throughout my day and enjoy getting a giggle break, there are others whom do not find it amusing. And I feel sorry for them. By the way, I don’t do it often either so it’s not like there’s a barrage of stupid emails that I send out!
Then there’s when I want to say something that I think is really important and the words simply and suddenly elude me. So I’ll start strong, speaking fluently and then just stop. Dead stop. And I can’t think of what I am trying to say. It’s so frustrating to me and it’s frustrating for whomever I’m speaking with! I know, I get it. But it’s more worrisome to me than it is to my listener as it reminds me that after 15 surgeries, there are some definite brain cells missing that haven’t found their way home and probably won’t at this point. Which could make me sad, but instead, I try to look on the bright side ~ I will survive ~ I can speak, I can understand and I can tell those closest to me that I love them!
I’m aware of my goofyness ~ I’m aware that I think differently than most people. I’m most definitely aware that my body is scarred and not the form that most women are ~ and that bothers me too. It’s hard to be a 40 something year old woman who has the skin, the hair, the body of a much older woman due to breast cancer and all that it involves. It’s difficult to not feel most parts of my body due to being numbed by multiple surgeries. It’s not a blessing to feel this insecure about how I look even though I try to pretend that I’m ok with the reality.
For the record, I’m not ok with it. But I can’t go back so I just keep inching forward. It’s all I can do really.
I’m not saying this for pity’s sake. I’m just telling you the reality of the disease. Chemo packs a punch to the system, changes our skin, our hair and our bodies and minds forever. Radiation does this as well. Not to mention the foremost physical part which is damaging mentally and emotionally as well which is the removal of our breasts and the huge scars that are left in their place. The loss of feeling, the loss of intimacy. There’s a lot to it.
But nobody talks about those things which always surprises me. When Angelina Jolie had her breasts removed prophelatically, people applauded. But the reality is that her breasts were removed, the feeling in parts of her breasts was removed as well and that was never mentioned once. I don’t mean to start a firestorm here because I too had both removed and only one had cancer at the time so I understand her motives. I’m just saying that it’s not so easy.
Whew…how in the world did I get on this vein of thinking today, I’ll never know. Perhaps there’s a reader out there who needed a little bit of understanding and camaraderie. So if there is, then this one’s for you and my post in not all in vain.
Be Yourself. Love Yourself.
P.S. Want the Gobbler Giggle? Click here!
Let me know if you sang along, I Will Survive!
Daily Prompt: Land of Confusion
Tell us about a time when you felt out of place.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us CONFUSION.