exposure therapy.

The most notable parts of our lives are usually the surprises... the unplanned nights out... the chance encounters... the letter you thought you'd never get.... or the diagnosis... the good news and bad. This is where we find meaning and purpose in our lives. This is where we say "aha! everything happens for a reason!" and we smile at serendipity. 

But what about the other 98% of our lives? Honestly back then, that 98% was getting pretty hard to handle and I had yearned for distractions. Successfully collecting a few, for a while... But now my life is back on track and I don't really stray from the norm too much these days...

Except sometimes, every once in a while, I actually notice the constant. I notice the same old hallways and study rooms. It reminds me that our lives are like big "exposure therapy" projects. Something will always be there to remind me of my past no matter how much I've moved forward. Recently, it was a bone marrow drive and watching the first years learn about neoplasm and immunology. It was a flashback to February 2012: when I first thought that I'd had just about enough of that chemo business.  I had reached out for help for the first time, not realizing what a dang mess it would turn into and not knowing that it was exactly what I needed to pull myself out the other side. 

I went back and read those year-old emails and journal entries, in the spirit of exposure therapy, and realized something... well a couple of somethings. First of all, I never thought I'd be here. (Here being healthy.) It just seemed so ridiculously far away. And while it was far, it IS here now, and I have the long (5) inches of hair to prove it! 

Reading the words I wrote one year ago, I also saw myself through a new perspective. I was able to see that girl who was terrified and unsure yet strong and determined. I was able to admit that I was so fragile, so embarrassingly fragile, a word I would have never wanted to describe me, and one that hopefully never will again. But I didn't break and I made it and I think I'm getting much stronger. My perspective has normalized. I can finally (lovingly) roll my eyes at that small girl who cried her self to sleep at night... thank goodness. 

I often wonder when I will be able to define myself in other ways. Not just that cancer way. Not wonder all te time if I can or cannot drop some funny cancer jokes or bring it up during those late-night "deep" bar conversations. And I guess that was the realization: I will never not be that girl who went through all this mess. It will always be a part of me no matter how normal life becomes around me. And as such, I will inevitably stumble upon reminder after reminder for (probably) the rest of my life. Eventually, they wont be daily reminders or even monthly reminders. And that will be great. But, I guess I might as well just give into the power of exposure therapy now and just go with it.... 

Bring it on world. Paper the walls with posters of his face and make me review cancer drugs. Oh wait, you already had that on the schedule. perfect. <3

Liv

Well I met an old man dying on a train.
No more destination, no more pain.
Well he said one thing, before I graduate"Never let your fear decide your fate."

Kill your heroes: AWOLNATION