Survival vs. Living
 

There is a huge difference between surviving life and actually living it. It's an odd thing to ponder and a very daunting task to undertake. It wasn't until Thursday, February 10, 2005 that I realized the difference. Throughout the last year I was completely in survival mode. Many days I was merely going through the motions. I seemed to be coherent and cognizant, when in all reality, I wasn't comprehending much. I knew certain things had to be accomplished, children loved, chemo treatments attended, eating and breathing. Learning had to continue, bills had to be paid and holidays celebrated. Family needed reassurance and strength and who better to give it? Surely that was my job as well.
I needed to have control of all aspects of my life and anyone else who would let me. The need to stay busy was a driving force for all of my daily routines and responsibilities. I kept my grandchildren just as busy as I was. Busy is good. It leaves little time to think, cry, or yearn.
I made sure every milestone was marked and remembered. I acknowledged bad days, sad days, and every nightmare that accompanied them. I sat up most nights until 3 a.m. listening for the answers to my myriad of questions. I made sure that my husband and I went to a support group at the Cancer Center and at the Sharing Place. Albeit, I was a reluctant participant at first. I was sure I had a handle on everything and was grieving quite well.
When friends would ask how we were doing, I would always say that we were fine and doing surprisingly well. When in reality, I was crying for hours every day. There were days where I would start crying for no apparent reason. I would cry myself into a completely exhausted sleep every night.
This is complete and utter survival. Going through the motions of every day, just to make it to the next.
In February, 2005 I started to get very anxious and couldn't figure out why I was so jittery and uneasy. I was a little panicky as my two year anniversary approached. I couldn't believe how quickly the time had gone. The day came and went and I thought for sure things would begin to get easier. Isn't that what everyone always says? "The first year is the hardest?" Who ever believes this is just setting themselves up for disappointment. A month into my second year, and I felt like I was sinking fast. I'm running as fast as I can and getting farther behind. I am more teary eyed than I have been in a few months, and suddenly very tired.
I no longer feel the need to be so busy all the time, however I have committed to being busy for a very long time. I desperately want to climb into bed and stay there at least for one entire day if not a week or a month.
My routines of being a cancer survivor are very well established and efficient for the most part, but I yearn for someone else to be the bad guy just once.
I'm finding a balance between what needs to be done, and what I want to do.
I just realized a few days ago, that my sudden need to control every minute of my day and to fill it with activities and stuff, was my way of stopping the pain and the grief from completely flooding my being and letting me feel. My crying jags were actually a way for me to release some pain, grief, and fears for the future.
I am struggling more now, than I did during the last year. I am feeling my survival more intensely, and in ways I didn't know were possible. This doesn't mean that I haven't grieved. It simply means that I no longer just need to survive, but that I am ready to begin living. With each passing day I am able to acknowledge my emotions better and to put them in perspective.
Do I love life any less? Absolutely not. In fact I love it more than I ever imagined I could, and 5 years as a cancer survivor is a very short time when looking at a lifetime. I am finally ok with that.
I still have many days where I am sad and I miss a "normal" life terribly. I think that I will always have those. This journey has been remarkable and my life is forever changed by it. I also have days of complete joy where memories make me smile and laugh, when the sun caresses my face with warmth, when the song of a bird outside my window brings me to my knees in gratitude.
The rollercoaster that I have been on doesn't seem to be hurtling through the darkness nearly as fast. It is slowly getting brighter and the twists, turns, and bumps are fewer and fewer. Do I think they will ever completly stop? Not a chance, but I do feel that I am better able to prepare for them.
Survival is all about numbly going through the motions and just getting by. Living is being aware of every emotional sting and scrape, as well as the joy and delight that happens on a daily basis. Living is a messy process with plenty of laughter to accompany it.
Survival was my past. Living is my now.

I love you all, Vickie

Hi Vickie,

What a wonderful post. I so know what you are saying...... as I'm sure we all do.

When first diagnosed you wonder if you will ever stop crying and if you'll ever smile again. Amazingly, you do and for most of us I think the journey gets so much better after all we've been through, continue to go through and all we've learned.

Life is for living.....we all have an expiration date....none of us know when the Lord will be calling us Home but until then we have a purpose for being here. I choose to live out that purpose and put the past where it belongs...in the past. As I continue to move forward, I continue to learn and grow. I continue to understand more and I continue to understand NOTHING. I don't know what my tomorrow holds....but I do trust the One who is leading (got that from your signature Vickie....love that and how true) and know that no matter where I go He is with me. That brings me comfort and peace.

Thanks Vickie for a thought provoking post.

Thanking God for today....

Mary Jo

Vickie, your post was sooo beautifully put.It resonated with many of the things I have felt and continue to feel each and every day.I used to work with patients suffering post traumatic stress disorder who described it as a living hell. Since diagnosis I have often felt like I was suffering from it to! Ellie

Vickie, you are such an inspiration for me. I am only a little over a year and half from my dx and totally in the survival mode. I don't give myself time to dwell but fear grips me so easily when absolutely any ache or pain is felt. I yearn to find the carefree person I used to be before the dx but just can't.

God bless you!

Dear Vickie -
You have elequently described how so many of us try to "outrun the past AND future" by staying busier than our energy really can tolerate. This is actually more like going on Autopilot and hoping we don't crash!

We get so wrapped up in making sure everyone else is OK that we have no time left for ourselves, which, of course is the purpose of running our lives this way.

This behavior is akin to the "cancer radio in my head" that I posted about. We want to hear other things and try to ignore the fact that this "radio" is always with is just like a shadow.

I am certain that our behaviors change with a cancer diagnosis, and we start to keep a lot of "secrets" while putting on a brave face. Once I started to realize those secrets existed - even from myself - I tried to begin to deal with them. Definitely NOT an easy task. Easier to do the ostrich thing!

Thanks for opening your heart this way. I am sure so very many of us can completely relate.

Steph, Ellie, Shobha and Mary Jo,
Thank you so much for the response...it made my day! I went to lunch today with friends (sushi) and felt so relieved after posting this. I am not one to talk about myself in the midst of so many others' struggles, but felt the need to share these feelings knowing so many others have gone through the same door. Just being able to open up and talk to everyone is so cathartic, and healing for all of us.
I truly treasure each and every one of you. You are all angels in my life.
Love, Vickie

Such well written and thought provoking words Vickie, thanks for sharing them with us.

Vickie,

YOU are an amazing women. I admire you and how you expressed yourself. I can really relate to what you said. I have learned from you that I too need to start living.

Thank you for your post.

Tonya

I don't think any of us could have said it better. To Life!

Thank you for a wonderful post. I am so grateful to be part of our wonderful Her2 family.

Wasn't going to log on but - Vickie - after reading this post I just had to reply.

Thank you. It's so powerful, what you have written. So well put. I am back in full survivor mode. I hate it. With a passion. I just want my regular life. It goes away so quickly, and without notice.

All I can even say for tonight is thank god for this site and for loving people such as yourself. It truly makes life more bearable. xxoo --Flori

Vickie, you have beautifully and truthfully expressed the emotions you have gone through. Your words have resonance for all of us. Thank you for expressing them so well.
This site is the best family we could ask for and like a family, everyone is different but everyone gives so much of themselves in their different ways.
hugs and love Sarah

Those were beautiful words and resonated with me also as I am just leaving survivor mode and re-entering the living mode. Thank you for sharing.

Vickie girl, you hit a home run!
ma

All I can say is AMEN to that! ..sherry

Vickie,

I read this last night before falling off to sleep. It is so very beautiful. Honest and raw and true. It sums up our struggles, fears, and triumphs so well. Thank you.

Thanks for a wonderful post. I go between living and
survival mode in my head. When a test comes up or
dates like three years coming up, I go into a different
place. Trying to do better with this.
patb

Vickie,

Thank you for sharing your feelings. It was beautifully written and expressed.

Amelia

Thank you, all my brave sisters and brothers here. I really don't know how I would have survived or lived this long without all of you, you have truly been blessed angels to me. Your love has carried me on wings of hope when there seemed to be none, your compassion has fueled my drive to keep going and your empathy has blanketed my deepest fears. I can't express how much I love each and every one of you. Love, Vickie

Oh Vickie, what a beautiful post for all to read.....and what a wonderful reminder of how we feel.