Can You Hear Me?

Speak to me.
Come on, it's safe, just tell me what you need.
Man I wish you'd been taught sign language at birth so you could express to me what you need through words!
Why won't you communicate in a way I understand so I might meet your needs and satisfy?
This doesn't make sense. I'm ok. You are ok. We ARE ok.
Why can't I find anything that will give you energy?
How about this? Not that? Then what?
Busy? See friends? Travel? Hide at home? Work out? Walk? Sleep?
Come on tell me what is wrong and what you need.

This is me trying to have a mental and or physical conversation with my emotional body. Which, clearly has not produced the result I want as tears roll down my face.

My wonderful friend Heather Peterson takes two seconds on a call with me and lays out the impact of the emotional body. It hits home so much my emotional body screams out as someone hears its pain. I called to request other meditations, any meditations, in her voice so as to calm and center me....and through the phone a thousand miles away she picks up the exact chakra needing some love and hears and introduces me to my emotional body.

The physical body is healing but the emotional body is still sending out messages to a deaf ear. It's been rallying the troops, circling the wagons and padding the heart. No one has been answering or heading its call to arms in a way that it feels heard. Why? Because it can only communicate in the emotional world and I desperately want out of that world.

This phone call cannot be recreated because it wasn't for my mental body to hear. So I sit and work to now create a healing space for my emotional body. Letting others guide me through the dark as they heed the communication of my emotional body.

You will be heard. I will be listen to you and you have done your duty!
Please rest and reinvigorate yourself.

Waves

What I have been surfing these past few days must be those types of waves people talk about, aren’t they called mavericks? You know the type of wave that people hear about from around the world but very few witness and those do don’t get to live to tell about it.

Some moments I feel ok, calm and maybe in control and then it hits out of no where. The wave of disbelief, anger, confusion and despair take me under. There is nothing to do but fight for air. Sometimes after the passing of a wave there is nothing left and for an instant I experience silence. No matter what stage I find myself in I am very thankful for all those around me, especially my wife and some very humble cancer survivors who are currently in the throws of beating the big C!

Mostly I have felt like my heart is going to explode inside my chest or I have to push it from my throat just so I can breathe. I yell and scream and want to punch or kick my way out of where I am, trapped.

Why me is such a stupid question but it comes up. The list of things I’ve done that should have bought me a pass comes rushing in and then I fall. I dust myself off or my lovely wife picks me up off the floor where I’ve fallen to a heap and I wait for the next set to roll in.

The worst is I can’t sleep or yet it’s when I have fallen asleep and I wake and my mind thrashes out, teeth bared and everything is bloody. The incision wakes me and I want to scream.

I don’t want to make these decisions. I don’t want to manage a disease the rest of my life. I want it over and I want it over now. I don’t want to deal with the emotional trials that I’ve been entered into.

I wait a few more days and meet with the doctor to create a plan. Each day gets, quieter so to speak or maybe more numb. I don’t have all the information yet and my mind jumps, races, tackling ideas and decisions. I try and find out info so I will be able to ask the right questions or more importantly I try and figure out how I feel and what I want. This being the hardest part of the equation, how do I feel and what do I want.

I currently have the understanding, weather it is correct or not, that the removal of the breast tissue would halt/stop the disease. I would not have future management of the disease. I won’t know for sure if that is the case until Tuesday. However, I’ve already told the Doctor, take the damn tissue because I can’t live with the worry in the back of my mind with frequent treatments or screenings. I’m really not that attached to the tissue enough for it to kill me. Mostly I saw how I reacted to working my way through the diagnosis and the waiting and the worrying and that was crippling. My hope is to get connected to what I want/feel so that some decisions can be made this Tuesday. I’m trying to take some steps back from the situation instead of just saying cut them off now. This is of course when logic is triggered vs. pure raw emotion. Yet, as logical as I can be I feel I must claw through this sticky rawness to find me on the other side.

As the days have progressed and more since the incision, I’m discovering that I might have some attachments to that damn tissue. Ahh, the next mental mind fuck and rat race…