I never thought I'd be writing a post on this subject, but it is something that has been on my mind a lot recently, and I would like to share with you my various ponderings on the subject.
I have been living with chronic pain for almost 3 years now. This has reshapen my life and myself in more ways than one. As the new year takes off with renewed resolutions and desires to change things that need change, improve things that can be better, and let go of things that are hurting you, you can understand why healing has been on my radar.
I still miss my bald head. It sounds weird, but I really wish you could have something visible to what happens in the not visible. I miss it. I miss feeling understood and supported when you saw my bald head. You immediately knew: she has cancer. But now I mostly look normal, so you forget I am not. In the past year, 2018, I made an effort to stop reminding everyone I am still a cancer patient. That is why my bald head was so helpful: I didn't have to say anything, the bald did the talking. Now, I either remind you verbally or keep it inside in solitude. My most common feeling about this? Loneliness.
My husband has been teaching a summer school course at his job. On Monday he needed to do some errands to renew his residency, so I went as a substitute teacher so he wouldn't lose the day's pay (we can't afford that, specially with the immigration fees we will be paying this year. Please keep it in your minds to pray for that for us). He was done with his errands at noon and went to the school to bring me some lunch (the girls had gone with me). I ate and then used some gym mattresses to take a nap. He woke me up an hour later to ask me to get ready because we need to vacate the room for the cleaning lady. It took me around 20 minutes to get up and get moving. My husband was upset with me and spoke in a harsh tone to hasten my pace. When we relocated to a different room, I was visibly angry at him. "Are you angry at me?" he asked. "Yes!" I replied. Dumbfounded he asked "Why?" "Because you think I move slowly because I am lazy. Taking over your class for you took a big toll on me. I didn't take a nap because I was sleepy. I took a nap because my battery was on zero. And that little nap did little to nothing to recharge my batteries. I have no energy and my body is screaming inside from so much pain." It is Thursady today and I haven't fully recovered. "I am sorry," he said, " I forget."
My most important resolution for this year is spending more alone time with the Lord. That resolution has already given many fruits. I hadn't journaled since 2009. As I put my prayers and thoughts in writing, the Lord has been able to give me some revelations about myself. I've made an effort to even journal through an anxiety attack, and while those entries are less than encouraging, they also let me reevaluate my heart in calmer times.
I've realized some truths about my healing journey.
1. Healing has more to do with the heart (mind if you prefer) than with the body. And while you will be tempted to think mind-over-body arguments, I am more inclined into beliefs-over-reality ones. It is your beliefs that shape your mind and it is the power of these beliefs that translate into physical manifestations. I believed more in the power cancer had to kill me than I believed in the power the treatment, prayers, diet, anything I could do had in saving me. My beliefs were giving cancer more power. Now there has been extensive scientific research on the power of a strong belief in healing and helping people overcome the disease. People with a strong faith have been reported to do better during and after treatment than those without a strong faith in God. But while I refused to live in the "religious healing" side of the story, my belief in whose power was greater was seriously misplaced.
2. My healing has been stunted by my emotional state. I have concetrated my healing efforts in the physical aspects: change my eating habits, do more exercise, more yoga, more time outside instead of being indoors. I've analyzed my mental health. I've struggled with my mental health. I know the state that the toxins, radiation, hormones (or lack of), chemicals, and loss has had on my intellect, my resilience, my state of mind, my inner peace (or lack of), my sleep, and my relationships. One thing I hadn't considered though were my emotions. I considered my emotions toward cancer (a lot of anger, especially when I think of Kinsley). I am well aware of my depression and anxiety, but I hadn't thought of how I feel about myself. While journaling, the Lord revealed to me that I am suffering of a serious case of self-loathing. How was I unaware of this? I don't know. But I was. I was. I had no idea I was hating myself this much. I hate my body and how little I can do to improve it and how any attempt to improve it increases my pain so much. I hate the amount of pain I live with. I think I am a bad wife, bad mom, bad daughter. I told the worship band leader I shouldn't be allowed to serve in the band because I am a bad testimony. I feel undeserving of anything. I don't deserve my husband, my girls, my mom, my God. I don't deserve to survive cancer. This is a haunting thought when I think Kara and Kinsley were deserving and here I am and they are not. I don't believe I deserve to be healed, which connects with point one.
3. I am scared of who I am without this sickness. Cancer has redifined me. Eventhough I fight it and I don't succumb to it, it is a part of me. I am scared when I am talking to someone who doesn't know I have cancer. "What if they think I was born this ugly?" "What if they think I am odd?" I have even wondered (and this is the honest truth) "Do they see me and wonder if I am a transgender? Does it seem strange to them that I have a boy's chest but a girl's voice?" The evenings are the hardest time for me. It is when the depletion of my energy is so high I can barely get up and help the girls out with something, so it is my husband, who has come back from working and studying all day, who tends to them while I "need" to take a rest. "What must they think when they see Rodolfo tends to them like that?" I feel the need to let them know I am not normal and that is why I act and look like that. I am anxious until I can find an excuse to say: "I am a cancer survivor" while what I am really saying is "This is why I am this way." I recently posted on facebook how touched I was by the latest Grey's Anatomy episode calling out that having cancer is not "fighting" and when you survive you don't "win", just like when you die you don't "lose". I am so grateful someone said it. When you survive, you don't "win." I am scared of facing myself removed from my sickness. I have been feeling so bad for so long to not know what my life would look like if were healed; and, as dumb as it sounds, I am scared of letting go of it all.
4. Fear is more powerful in keeping you sick than the disease itself. During one of my anxiety attacks, the Spirit within me called me out and said: "Come be with Me." I said to Him: "What for? What for? Why even try to be healthier? Why even try to be better? Why even try to grow spiritually? Why even bother when I am going to die." I have spoken to many people that when faced with a similar situation think they should start preparing their families for life without them. I have always adviced against that train of thought, but I get on board whether conciously or subconciously. I remove myself from being with my loved ones or having them depend on me. It is fear that sparks my anxiety. It is fear that keeps me struggling with insomnia. It is fear that makes me feel I can't and shouldn't heal. And it is fear that keeps me from being closer to God for when I am with God I feel shame because:
I have been living with chronic pain for almost 3 years now. This has reshapen my life and myself in more ways than one. As the new year takes off with renewed resolutions and desires to change things that need change, improve things that can be better, and let go of things that are hurting you, you can understand why healing has been on my radar.
I still miss my bald head. It sounds weird, but I really wish you could have something visible to what happens in the not visible. I miss it. I miss feeling understood and supported when you saw my bald head. You immediately knew: she has cancer. But now I mostly look normal, so you forget I am not. In the past year, 2018, I made an effort to stop reminding everyone I am still a cancer patient. That is why my bald head was so helpful: I didn't have to say anything, the bald did the talking. Now, I either remind you verbally or keep it inside in solitude. My most common feeling about this? Loneliness.
My husband has been teaching a summer school course at his job. On Monday he needed to do some errands to renew his residency, so I went as a substitute teacher so he wouldn't lose the day's pay (we can't afford that, specially with the immigration fees we will be paying this year. Please keep it in your minds to pray for that for us). He was done with his errands at noon and went to the school to bring me some lunch (the girls had gone with me). I ate and then used some gym mattresses to take a nap. He woke me up an hour later to ask me to get ready because we need to vacate the room for the cleaning lady. It took me around 20 minutes to get up and get moving. My husband was upset with me and spoke in a harsh tone to hasten my pace. When we relocated to a different room, I was visibly angry at him. "Are you angry at me?" he asked. "Yes!" I replied. Dumbfounded he asked "Why?" "Because you think I move slowly because I am lazy. Taking over your class for you took a big toll on me. I didn't take a nap because I was sleepy. I took a nap because my battery was on zero. And that little nap did little to nothing to recharge my batteries. I have no energy and my body is screaming inside from so much pain." It is Thursady today and I haven't fully recovered. "I am sorry," he said, " I forget."
My most important resolution for this year is spending more alone time with the Lord. That resolution has already given many fruits. I hadn't journaled since 2009. As I put my prayers and thoughts in writing, the Lord has been able to give me some revelations about myself. I've made an effort to even journal through an anxiety attack, and while those entries are less than encouraging, they also let me reevaluate my heart in calmer times.
I've realized some truths about my healing journey.
1. Healing has more to do with the heart (mind if you prefer) than with the body. And while you will be tempted to think mind-over-body arguments, I am more inclined into beliefs-over-reality ones. It is your beliefs that shape your mind and it is the power of these beliefs that translate into physical manifestations. I believed more in the power cancer had to kill me than I believed in the power the treatment, prayers, diet, anything I could do had in saving me. My beliefs were giving cancer more power. Now there has been extensive scientific research on the power of a strong belief in healing and helping people overcome the disease. People with a strong faith have been reported to do better during and after treatment than those without a strong faith in God. But while I refused to live in the "religious healing" side of the story, my belief in whose power was greater was seriously misplaced.
2. My healing has been stunted by my emotional state. I have concetrated my healing efforts in the physical aspects: change my eating habits, do more exercise, more yoga, more time outside instead of being indoors. I've analyzed my mental health. I've struggled with my mental health. I know the state that the toxins, radiation, hormones (or lack of), chemicals, and loss has had on my intellect, my resilience, my state of mind, my inner peace (or lack of), my sleep, and my relationships. One thing I hadn't considered though were my emotions. I considered my emotions toward cancer (a lot of anger, especially when I think of Kinsley). I am well aware of my depression and anxiety, but I hadn't thought of how I feel about myself. While journaling, the Lord revealed to me that I am suffering of a serious case of self-loathing. How was I unaware of this? I don't know. But I was. I was. I had no idea I was hating myself this much. I hate my body and how little I can do to improve it and how any attempt to improve it increases my pain so much. I hate the amount of pain I live with. I think I am a bad wife, bad mom, bad daughter. I told the worship band leader I shouldn't be allowed to serve in the band because I am a bad testimony. I feel undeserving of anything. I don't deserve my husband, my girls, my mom, my God. I don't deserve to survive cancer. This is a haunting thought when I think Kara and Kinsley were deserving and here I am and they are not. I don't believe I deserve to be healed, which connects with point one.
3. I am scared of who I am without this sickness. Cancer has redifined me. Eventhough I fight it and I don't succumb to it, it is a part of me. I am scared when I am talking to someone who doesn't know I have cancer. "What if they think I was born this ugly?" "What if they think I am odd?" I have even wondered (and this is the honest truth) "Do they see me and wonder if I am a transgender? Does it seem strange to them that I have a boy's chest but a girl's voice?" The evenings are the hardest time for me. It is when the depletion of my energy is so high I can barely get up and help the girls out with something, so it is my husband, who has come back from working and studying all day, who tends to them while I "need" to take a rest. "What must they think when they see Rodolfo tends to them like that?" I feel the need to let them know I am not normal and that is why I act and look like that. I am anxious until I can find an excuse to say: "I am a cancer survivor" while what I am really saying is "This is why I am this way." I recently posted on facebook how touched I was by the latest Grey's Anatomy episode calling out that having cancer is not "fighting" and when you survive you don't "win", just like when you die you don't "lose". I am so grateful someone said it. When you survive, you don't "win." I am scared of facing myself removed from my sickness. I have been feeling so bad for so long to not know what my life would look like if were healed; and, as dumb as it sounds, I am scared of letting go of it all.
4. Fear is more powerful in keeping you sick than the disease itself. During one of my anxiety attacks, the Spirit within me called me out and said: "Come be with Me." I said to Him: "What for? What for? Why even try to be healthier? Why even try to be better? Why even try to grow spiritually? Why even bother when I am going to die." I have spoken to many people that when faced with a similar situation think they should start preparing their families for life without them. I have always adviced against that train of thought, but I get on board whether conciously or subconciously. I remove myself from being with my loved ones or having them depend on me. It is fear that sparks my anxiety. It is fear that keeps me struggling with insomnia. It is fear that makes me feel I can't and shouldn't heal. And it is fear that keeps me from being closer to God for when I am with God I feel shame because:
"18 There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love."
1 John 4:18
I don't subscribe to the belief that "God chose me for this sickness", which is why I hate the phrases like: "God gives His hardest battles to His strongest warriors." Makes me gag just putting it in writing. I do believe God prepared me for this time. I believe my walk has been in His control and He has had a purpose for it all. I believe that healing has to do with the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual. I believe the spiritual has the biggest impact and is the most important of all of them. And no, not any spiritual growth- growth in your walk with God! My time with the Lord will bear fruit in healing me inside which will translate to healing outside. He has already begun to change how I feel about myself when I expose myself to His Word and what He says of me and says to me. He is letting me know I can come to Him even if I am in fear. I don't have to remind Him of my pain, so I don't have to feel so lonely anymore. I don't have to give excuses for myself because He became human to experience human pain and He is able to tell me: "I know how you feel." He hears my rants during my anxiety were I speak all the lies Satan has made me believe; and because I am coming to Him, those lies can't live in the light. He is making me open up more to my husband about how I feel and pray together like we did before. He can make all things new, and that means more than just giving me a new heart. His love can permeate to my body and help me heal. And if I must walk the remainder of this life, whether long or short, living with pain, I hope I can learn to rely on Him and continue to believe He is the one with the greatest power, nothing else is as powerful as He.
