Raw.

Real.

Here it is: I’m struggling.

Not just slightly struggling. But deeply struggling. Wrestling. Fighting. Desperately trying to stay above water sort of struggling.

Whew, ok, I said it. Out loud. And to someone (sort of?) other than my husband.

Yep, my cancer journey has something to do with it. I feel alone. It’s a journey where I feel like I don’t quite fit in with other cancer fighters but I also don’t quite fit in with those not fighting cancer. It’s hard to explain and be understood about the internal damage and struggle I feel like I’m facing. Wreckage from treatment – depression, anxiety, exhaustion, sleeplessness, unable to get out of bed, lethargy, foggy brain, moodiness, constant physical pain – all this in addition to the “normal”, or maybe expected is a better word, emotional rollercoaster of empathy for other fighters, subconscious fear of testing and scans, and “cancer” just being a trigger word that could potentially cause a flood to immerse from my eyeballs as soon as the word is uttered. (Note: We have recently discovered that my thyroid was destroyed during treatment causing a lot of these symptoms, thankfully, I am on meds and I’m better, but I’m still just not me.)

But in addition to my aforementioned emotional and physical wreckage…. The last few weeks have really hit me hard. I think I’ve either cracked or just straight up broken a part. I am seeing that for several weeks now, my heart has been sinking into despair. I miss hugs, being in church worshipping with others, seeing smiling faces, having the ability to do something kind for someone without being yelled at because I encroached on their 6 feet and/or I touched something of theirs with my presumed “unclean” hands. I feel like an outcast and so lonely because I don’t want to isolate any more. I feel judged. I question if I am selfish and I feel condemned for thinking the toll I see isolation taking seems to be more risky than the virus itself. I feel desperate. Desperate to be in church with my hubs and kids, desperate to hug loved ones, desperate to laugh and be at ease, desperate to feel connected. I’ve ugly cried so many times lately. I hate looking in the mirror because I don’t recognize who I am anymore. I feel so lost. Maybe I am the only one, and if that is the case, then this doesn’t matter. But I would argue, based on the increase of suicides and depression diagnoses, I am not the only one.

So, I have to question… I have to wonder…

I have to speak up. I don’t think it is heartless and selfish to say that I am struggling with the mandate to isolate and all of the heartache that comes with that mandate. I am struggling with added depression from this. Wouldn’t you tell me to voice this so you could intercede? Is my struggle important? Or is the intercession and importance of my struggle not applicable when it comes to the virus? Am I selfish because I feel alone? Am I selfish and uncaring because isolation is taking it’s toll on me? Am I selfish and uncaring because I see this whole thing differently; that we should be cherishing the time we have with each other because we don’t know what tomorrow brings?

I have to question… I have to wonder…

Is isolation less deadly than a virus?
Is the lack of touch and togetherness less deadly than a virus?
Does isolation guarantee our tomorrow?
Does isolation truly guarantee the tomorrow of our loved one(s)?
What if death already knocks on our loved one’s door?
What if death taunts our loved one’s mind?
What if the darkness of isolation is trying to swallow our loved ones whole?

Are the what if’s of the virus greater and more important than the what if’s of isolation?

Is a virus more important than suicide?
Is a virus more important than cancer?
Is a virus more important than loved ones holding each other through death?
Is a virus more important than a parent’s neglect?
Is a virus more important than a father and mother not being able to feed their children?
Is a virus more important than spending precious time with those whose tomorrow’s are not guaranteed?
Is a virus more important than the silent struggle in the mind of the depressed?
Is a virus more important than addiction?
Is a virus more important than showing kindness and love to others?
Is a virus more important than God?

I have to question…I have to wonder…

Is it worth it?

The virus is real, no doubt. And we can take precautions, sure, and we should. But I would argue that we need to remove the blinders of fear and see the destruction the current so-called “cure” has left in its wake (and it’s not even over). We may not see isolation’s destruction in death statistics. It may be hard to find because we aren’t taking a tally of its effects. But children, adults, the lonely, the discouraged hearts, relationships, careers, businesses; I can guarantee the current “cure” is crushing them. How can we advocate that we need to save lives yet hypocritically put so many lives at risk? What about those who are now in the shadows? What about those who have been forgotten and trampled under foot in the name of this virus?

There has to be a better way. But until we take a step back, remove the blinders of fear, and take all things into consideration, we’ll never find it.

One day, when we look back on all of this, I wonder what hindsight of 2020 will be? How much regret will we have because of all the precious time we lost with our loved ones? How much regret will we have for the neglect of those we have forgotten about?

The “what ifs” and daily risks we take in everything we do will always be there, time with your loved one(s) won’t.

What will we choose? How can we find a better way?