Storm’s a brewin’

Lightning, Thunder, Stormy Seas…

The last few days I’ve been suffering from a migraine which usually means the barometer is changing and it has been.  We’ve been having some thunderstorms, rain, sun and unusual weather.  As I sit here writing this post, it’s intermittently been raining cats and dogs one minute, with thunderous clouds and loud, rolling thunder and then suddenly the sky switches to bright sunshine with the quiet roll of thunder in the background.  In fact, I feel like it’s like me these days…sunshine with a touch of raincloud followed by a bit of thunder.

But I digress because I wanted to post about change and how difficult it can be on the body, the mind and others around us.  I think this is where my inner and outer thunderclouds have originated.  I’m on a changing cycle I think and it’s a bit stormy here for me as I go through the changes.  I’m a bit daunted to be honest by the unknown ahead, but having delved into the unknown before, I am shoring up my courage to keep taking baby steps.

The outer thunder is just the careless roar of others which I can deal with although I’d prefer calm, sun-filled moments.  But that’s ok for me.  I’ve been through far worse.  The inner thunder is more treacherous to me and having experienced it before, it leaves me a little shaky these days.  Nothing like a touch of the unknown to scare me a bit.

I remember when I was first diagnosed, I was afraid to cry.  Imagine being afraid to cry!?  But I was afraid that if I started to cry, I’d never stop.  Now I know that sounds silly, but to me, it was perfectly logical.  I was unable to mourn the loss of my breasts because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop crying about it.  So I held the pain inside until I almost burst.  Then a very dear friend told me not to be afraid to cry because eventually I’d stop…and those simple words, ‘eventually you’ll stop’ made all the difference in the world to me.  And the shift happened.

I cried for the loss of my breasts, for the time I spent in chemo, radiation, in hospitals, alone…I cried for the time I worried that I wouldn’t see my boys become teenagers.  I cried through sad movies, silly commercials and any true life story article or movie or book I could put my hands on.  It was like I needed that reason to cry and not the reason that I had in my own life and heart.  But through allowing those tears to escape me, I felt the weight of the sadness lifting from my soul and my heart.  It was when I allowed myself to cry, I was able to heal my heart and begin to take baby steps again.

It’s been a busy 8 weeks since my Dad passed and I’ve not had a lot of time to mourn the loss.  I know all about the grieving process having endured it when I had breast cancer 10 years ago.  I’ve been moving along through the 7 steps, only to stagger now.  But in the thundercloud where I am presently, it’s only fitting that a storm’s a brewin’ because I think many changes have occurred in the last 8 weeks of my life…and I just have to keep my thoughts on the prize of a sparkling rainbow!

Cheers to fears, tears and thunderclouds…

for they make the Rainbows that much sweeter!

xo