It seems like this year has been a series of constant anxiety attacks and living in fear. Just this last week, I was terrified because I had breathing problems, a tight chest, heartburn for days, exhaustion, and a two day period. I went to the doctor and was told it was most likely a viral infection that can show symptoms like mine. I went home convinced that it was something more, but luckily everything but the exhaustion (which could just be sick and anxiety caused) are fading.
It's almost like this January made me absolutely convinced that something bad would happen and I was just waiting until that other shoe drops. Perhaps ever since I had cancer, I've almost been waiting to be told it came back. Which is silly, as my doctors said it was so rare to begin with, and they feel confident it won't come back. It wasn't even full fledged cancer to begin with - it was a weird tumor that had pre-cancer cells...cells that, over time, would have developed into cancer. Scary, but not scary enough for me to me so traumatized. I know cancer survivors who feel more confident in their health after long periods of chemo than I do. I feel like my body is just a time bomb waiting to go off, and I'm so riddled with anxiety that it's affected me in every way.
It's odd, but my current book is starting to shake me from that mentality. I'm writing a book about the underground of NYC (fictionalized, but based off of real places and people.) In research to it, I've been watching interviews of people who have lived homeless underground (you know, "mole people") for decades. No health check ups, no housing, no anything but a patch of dirt and the clothing on their backs. And you know what? They're not full of anxiety. They even look pretty damn healthy. They're not living wondering if they're dying, despite their extremes.
Then here I am, in a house with proper nutrition. Vitamins. Doctor check ups. I live a pretty cushy life...I shouldn't be thinking I'm a breeding ground for cancer cells. I shouldn't be so terrified of cell phones and laptops and sodas. I'm so scared that I'm going to die early that I'm starting to forget how to live. How to be blissful, like I used to be before 2016 happened to me. I'm so clouded up in fear that I can't see straight. I hate this year, I hate that my life is no longer so uplifting and fun. I've allowed my fears to drag me down and take control.
I told my husband last night that "I think the mole people are helping me with my anxiety" and he didn't stop laughing for like five minutes at the sentence. But he enjoyed that I am working through it. I'm praying to become healthier, both physically and mentally. I'm going to start working out again, eating even healthier, allowing myself to gain weight that used to bring fear to me before. I'm going to start feeling confident in my body again, instead of feeling like I'm weak and unhealthy. I'm going to change my mindset and my body. I won't allow cancer in. I'm going to be strong. I'm going to set up by body to live a long time.
I think the fear will always be there, but at least I'll have a good defense against it. I'll be able to fight back. And maybe, one day, the panic attacks will go away. The anxiety will fade. The fears that plague me daily will release. This is my hope for 2017.
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