It’s okay, to not be okay.

“Being sick and young is sorta like being elderly, except we lack the reflection on all the great times and great things we did long ago. Instead, we watch our peers make the memories and strides they’ll look back on fondly, bitterly observing and praying for our chance. Our time.”

I could sit here and tell you that being positive and strong during chemotherapy and dealing with cancer was easy, but that would be a lie. The truth is 90% of the time I hold it all together in my dysfunctional chemo brain world, but the other 10% is between day 3 and 4 after chemo when I feel the anger, the being scared, and the bitterness towards certain things. The 10% where I lay awake at night because I can’t sleep due to the steroids in my chemo cocktail. Dealing with the thoughts of what is actually going on in my body, I can’t believe how much my hair was my identifier and now I’m bald, the I can’t believe I just actually slept for what felt like 3 days straight and felt nothing but numbness and pain. The ugly reality of it is I don’t want people to see the ugly 10%, but I also need people to know the 10% exists and it’s okay. It’s okay to have cancer and not be okay about it sometimes. I am truly grateful for that other 90% where I feel empowered by the way I view my life now, but sometimes all I want to do is cry. Cry about being scared about my future PET scan, cry about being confined in my house all the time, cry because I use all my energy to sit at breakfast or go to the grocery store, cry because for the next how ever many months I can’t make solid plans, cry because I feel as if my future has been put on hold, cry because I have to watch my family struggle to hold it together when I know they want to fall apart, cry because there may be a chance I may need to have help having children, cry because I took so many things for granted and postponed so many plans, cry because on one Friday afternoon my whole world was turned upside down.

But I refuse,

I refuse to make myself a victim to this cancer, I refuse to let that 10% consume me and become more than just 10%. I refuse to believe there isn’t a greater purpose I am supposed to have during all of this. I now live my life wanting to make a difference, I want to make a difference to anyone going through this or anyone going through anything that you have the control. You may not be able to control what happens to you, but you can control how you handle it, and if you have the ability to change it. DO IT. I’m no expert in giving advice, but if there’s one thing I could say to anyone out there dealing with this or even if you’re not. Take each day as it comes and celebrate every small victory. Even if it’s just the fact that you got out of the house to go to breakfast with a friend. Celebrate it. If completing a painting, or your own blog post makes you feel empowered, then celebrate it. Just know in your 90% strong positive badass days, and your 10% I want to cry and punch a wall. You’re not alone. You’re never alone.

Until Next Time,

XOXO Bechtold Badass

 

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Hi! I'm Meagan Bechtold. I am a 26 year old fighting Hodgkins Lymphoma. I decided to start a blog because writing has always been the best outlet for me to express how I'm feeling and what I'm going through. I also started this in hopes of helping anyone going through cancer and chemotherapy, or just wants to follow along with my journey! I have an amazing husband Chris and we have been together for about 9 years and married a year and a half he is honestly my best friend and my biggest supporter! We do not have any kids yet but we have our two fur babies who we absolutely adore. I hope you guys enjoy my posts, and hopefully I can make a difference!

One thought on “It’s okay, to not be okay.

  1. First, I must tell you that your wig is badass! I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma November 14th. I am through my third session of chemo and let me tell you…I completely understand the 90% / 10%. Because that is it exactly. It is early stages, I don’t feel shitty just yet, but every handful of hair, every “how are you feeling” question, every picture I see of friends enjoying the beach (I live in Montevideo, Uruguay and it is summer here) is a big fat pisser. So, I get you, girl. And I thank you for sharing because the best way to tip the 10% scale is to know there are others who feel it, too.

    Liked by 1 person

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