a dark pool
June 22, 2016
i have this image in my mind that completely captures these last several months.
there is this large, dark pool of water … a big vat. i am in the dark deep water, sinking beneath and at times, briefly treading water and putting my head up to breathe. then i sink again.
fear, physical pain, anxiety, overwhelm, chemotherapy, doctor appointments, scary tests … the dark water.
GOD’s word, a moment in nature, a word or hug from a friend, laughter, physical lifting … those brief moments of coming up out of the dark water and catching my breath.
i’ve felt, since the completion of chemo and the great news from my MRI, like i’m climbing up the side of the big vat of darkness. climbing up, almost to the edge and able to look over the horizon. i see glimpses.
yesterday, i had an experience that felt like my feet were dangling again back in the dark waters. it took some time to feel the shaking off of my legs and the climbing again, the climbing OUT.
this all – these months since my diagnosis january 8 – have been traumatizing. ptsd feels more real and the trauma that dips my feet back in the deep – i guess that will be a part of this healing journey, yet i hope to be wise in navigating areas of life within my control, to avoid the deep.