Almost a year since I was last here, well since December 31st of last year so we're still quite a bit a ways from claiming a whole year since revisiting the blog, but alas it is time for that hiatus to be broken. For the silence to end. For the flood gates to open.
I was doing pretty well all of this year, as far as it got anyhow. Then of course one cannot simply expect a whole calendar year to go by without any hiccups, or at least anything that is major enough to bring me back to this place. Don't get me wrong I don't have any ill feelings towards this site as it's definitely helped me to work through some tough experiences in the past. But all the same we are back here and it's with a heavy heart that I am writing.
In the last 2-3 weeks, a bomb was dropped onto me. A bomb whose blast radius is seemingly unending. Where the fallout is still falling, coating everything in mystery and uncertainty, and blacking out every last light I have within. I thought I could fight it. I thought I was strong enough. But I was not.
My sister was diagnosed with cancer. And after a few weeks and multiple tests to confirm it, we've only just speculations as to what specifically it is, and it's scaring the hell out of me. I cannot hide it anymore, at least not entirely. I will do my best to mask my face, to be a smile, a beacon of light within the darkness. A firm foundation that my family can stand upon, or at the very least my sister can find safety within.
I'll give you the abridged version.
On the night that everything came crashing down, it was a slow descent that rapidly accelerated into the pits of hell. It was a Friday night. My sister was home because she had testing to be done, I was home just because that's what I do when I have no plans. The parents went out to go pick up my brother from the airport. It was looking to be a chill start to the weekend. Then it happened. The bombs dropped. There were no shelters, nowhere to hide, only the face the blast head on and it was something that became bigger and bigger the more I had begun to realize that this is reality and it's no longer just a laughing game anymore. The weight of the truth dug its heels in hard, and suddenly I was no longer capable of feeling.
What started as me simply heading downstairs to grab a drink to refresh and rehydrate after binging more Baldur's Gate 3 on my computer turned into a stoic stance and a rage unlike any other I have ever felt or experienced. Well I've had my fits of rage before, but this was different. I had to watch as time and talking went on that the entirety of my nuclear family broke down into tears out of fear, sadness, and every emotion that comes with a cancer diagnosis. My mom who never cries in front of us, my dad who I've never seen cry before at least none that I can remember, my strong-headed brother who braces against everything started crying, and my sister who has to live with everything coming crashing down when this was supposed to be a good year for her. I mean if for no one else, my sister hasn't had the true joys of feeling a senior year at all. High school level was ruined by covid-19, and now collegiate level is ruined by a cancer diagnosis. And what did I feel as the world came crashing in?
Nothing. Well at first anyways. I felt the tears trying to well up behind the eyes, but it soon turned into an ungodly rage. I felt the need to strike something, to throw something heavy, to scream and yell, but all I could manage was to stand almost perfectly still and seethe in my anger. It wasn't an anger nor rage directed at anyone or anything, but I just felt it and I couldn't let it out, I tried to not let it show but I'm sure that I gave every telltale sign away that I felt something.
Fast forward a couple of days and my sister had tried to ask how I felt about it seeing as there had been at least some time to think it all over. I was still in denial and figured that until we had further tests and proof, that it couldn't possibly be real.
Flash further forwards to the last couple of days to last week. I had thought I'd shaken it off and that everything was going to be okay. I knew it was still less than ideal but I had thought I had bolstered my mental defenses enough to withstand the storms. It almost worked.... until it didn't.
Last Friday, September 29th, we went to a Casting Crowns concert since they had been a group for 20 years now, and it was one of my dad's favorite groups. We didn't get to go in 2020 like the plan was, but at least we finally made it. Something happened that night that fractured the seemingly perfect facade. I don't know what it was or what happened, but as we sang along with their songs of hope and of faith, there was one or two times at least that I felt the lyrics almost calling out to me. And in those moments I had almost thought to reach my arm around my sister and just hug her in. To hold her tight. To let her see my softer side. But I didn't. I was on the fence of still portraying strength and stoicism that I couldn't let my guard down. I wanted her to know that I was just as scared and just as worried for the future as her, maybe not the same degree but similar enough. But I couldn't bring myself to be vulnerable. And maybe it's seeped into everything else for my life this past week.
I mean this whole week, my performance in the gym has been hindered. At first I tried analyzing variables for what I can control such as diet, hydration, sleep, exertion, etc. Then I figured maybe I was getting a little sick without symptoms but it's starting to wear me down so the body is trying to preserve its strength. Then I considered maybe it was just a required back down period to reset before I went back hard into my training. And now I'm beginning to wonder if it's all because the mental strength has failed and it's now seeping into my physical strength. I mean that doesn't make 100% sense to me, but I wouldn't be surprised if somehow deep down my strength in my mind has faltered and it's now taxing the physicality too. I mean I have told my gym friends on many occasions that sometimes when you're trying to get a new personal record, half if not more of the effort is mental. If you were to think you can't do it, you might lack the conviction to leverage your body's potential to push the limits. But if you think you can, you at least then have a shot and it'll be up to your body's failure to end your attempt. I don't know if that is a placebo effect or what, but I'm wondering if that's a possibility to where my somewhat impressive strength had vanished to.
Without overextending that point, I have been trying to figure out when I can come clean to my sister. To let her know that I want to be strong for her, to be a solid rock, a fortress in the storm, the knight in combat, the soldier at war. But I know that that is an unfair and unrealistic expectation to try to shoulder everything and pretend like it's a light weight that I carry. I know that if my sister were to find out everything about what I have just written, whether it's because she knows this blog exists, I purposely send her a link to this post, or otherwise tell her, that she would be much happier knowing I have feelings and am coming to terms with my emotions rather than hide it away. I know that bottling everything up isn't helping and for a good while there I had thought that my weightlifting was helping as it usually had when my mental state deteriorated. In the past I've had bad days but once I got to the gym and hit the weights, I was suddenly at peace and okay with what I was facing. But now that my strength is failing physically, to where am I to regain inspiration for the mental strength?
I know that ultimately I am human. That this isn't an easy path that we walk. That it throws major wrenches into our lives and our plans. I mean I have so many weekend plans I wanted to do with my sister for fun, and now we don't know what's going to happen in the coming days and weeks. We're still waiting for an official specific diagnosis of what cancer it is so we can consider treatment options. It was thought it was lymphoma, then sarcoma, and now LCH (Langerhans cell histiocytosis), but we're still not sure.
And this is now the part that I never wanted to admit, but here we are.
I've been scared to death about, well, death. I mean it's an extreme line of thinking but due to not knowing a thing about what the specific diagnosis is, and with no tangible plan for treatment and knowing that by some technicality that every day we waste away waiting for the results is more time for the cancer to evolve and progress. I don't know how rapid it is, I mean it seems relatively slow since it took several months for something to prompt the first tests, but at the same time a few months is also a short time frame, so every day counts.
I suppose it's because of my overthinking nature, maybe a splash of my paranoia, and a bit of my expectations of the worst and occasional hope for the best. The worst case scenario is that somehow this turned terminal and that's what scares me. I don't want to bury my sister. I can't. If I do, I don't know who or what I'll become. She is almost in a way my rock. She's my buddy that I can go text at a moment's notice, to play video games, hang out, go get Taco Bell, be stupid in the gym with, etc. And because of the thoughts racing at a thousand miles an hour, I can't help but think that maybe she might die. I don't want these thoughts, I mean who does? Who wants to think about the fact that their sibling might die young? Who wants to even think about anything of the sort? But here I am, having had thoughts in which she might die. And I get the feeling that my thoughts on death won't stop until I can see a timeline for treatment and success rates and numbers assuring me that it's not terminal and will just be a major hiccup on the road but nothing that will be life ending.
I feel like I am portraying something that I am not. And that is strong. I feel as if I am trying to be the hero, when in reality I need to be the civilian. I need to let my guard down, take off my mask, be human again. I need to open up, to let it out, to feel again. But I've shut myself out from me. I feel like I'm just trying to make it one step at a time. I mean maybe that's all I can ask for. But until I know more, I suppose I can't or shouldn't really plan anything too far in advance. I mean we were supposed to one day visit the live enactment of the Polar Express. We've been trying for years now. We're considering going to Six Flags to check out this Frightfest stuff to see the spooks of the Halloween season.
I just need to make it to this weekend. It's my sister's 21st after all. I just need a little bit of hope right now. I need a bit of joy, a bit of peace, a bit of healing. Well a lot of healing. I just need a respite. I want to reach out to people, more specifically my sister, but I don't know if I can. I feel that I should, but I don't have any more strength. But maybe that's why I need to. Because with all my strength that I have gained, perhaps it's time I show true strength in vulnerability. It is not weakness, it is the truth and it is more strength than many can admit they have to be vulnerable.
I want to reach out to more people at the least. Maybe tell some more friends. But I'm not looking for their sympathy. I don't want to look like I'm just begging for easier times, but maybe I need some easier times. But I also know that whatever happens, life goes on. This is just part of life and I need to live with it and not use it as a crutch to say why I am underperforming or what have you.
I don't know what else to write, I think I've gotten the bulk of it down. I know that when I hit post, unless my sister saved the link to this blog I won't be telling her about this post just yet. I don't know if I ever will. I suppose the sooner I do the better so that we can make the most of what we have now and not worry necessarily what the future may brings. I've wasted away enough time. I regret the near 2 years of not posting any pictures with my sister on social media because my selfishness and ego got in the way because I made a mistake posting a picture of her in a discord server she had not been comfortable with yet, and it turned into a spiteful "fine then I won't post you ever again" sort of deal until I realized how stupid I was to waste away those 2 years out of spite. But it's 2 years I will never get back, and if I know anything, it's that regret is the worst feeling in the world, and I'm going to tell you I already feel it with that stupidity of mine.
Maybe I ought to tell, but I don't know if I can or when. And I don't want to ask someone else to tell for me, I must do it on my own. This is my kingdom come
Side note, the song "Demons" by Imagine Dragons has been heavy on my mind lately. It used to just be a song I just idly sing to myself to occupy my mind and fill the time at work, but some of the lyrics, while possibly cherry picked apart, has me thinking. In particular the following:
I wanna hide the truth, I wanna shelter you, but with the beast inside there's nowhere we can hide
When you feel my heat, look into my eyes it's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide
Don't wanna let you down but I am hell-bound, though this is all for you, don't wanna hide the truth
Your eyes they shine so bright, I want to save that light, I can't escape this now, unless you show me how
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