Finding My Edge Again
Over the holiday break, Kori and I headed out west to visit friends and family in SF. It was one of those trips where you feel pressure to pack in as much as possible, knowing that your time is limited. And honestly, I found myself struggling to keep up with the pace.
I guess you can say that I was out of shape, socially. The introvert side of me gets energized by more intimate conversations and meeting new people but I tend fade quickly in larger group settings. And I’d love to fall back on excuses like the challenges of being around a table filled with alcohol and desserts— not ideal for my lifestyle— but in the back of my mind, I know it’s not a cancer thing. I’ve always been like that. The issue’s just more concerning with cancer bringing so many other limitations… I’m isolated at home with my set routines and in total control. Keeping up with people while living this way is challenging enough. I can’t afford to cut myself off even more.
Meanwhile, as I become healthier and stronger, the time lost has become more apparent than ever. It’s like my brain’s hard drive crashed at 30, when I was diagnosed, and I’ve felt that age ever since. I look around to see my peers maturing and moving on to new chapters as I’m simultaneously feeling my most vulnerable.
My gut tells me to rediscover who I am and want to be in the years ahead; that it’s time to metaphorically get out of bed and conquer the day. And frankly, I’m scared. For the past few years, I’ve had a single mission of surviving and prioritizing my needs. This meant friends and family helped take care of me too. I stopped having to figure things out for myself and it seems I may have lost my edge.
During New Years, friends challenged me to write down my most ambitious dreams. To forget any limitations and let my imagination run wild. And despite a serious effort, I couldn’t even access that uninhibited state of my mind anymore. Where did it all go?
It sure seems like time to shake off the cobwebs and start pushing my comfort zone again. Maybe that’s the best thing for me. Except, there’s always that little voice in my head, scarred from so many PTSD fueled memories, that feels the need to remind me, “Hey buddy! You DO need to take it easy. You’re not in the same boat as everyone else.” It’s this constant back and forth, filled with fear in both directions.
Pre-cancer Steve would reach for the stars. More recent Steve would reach for the chamomile tea… I’d better figure out who Steve wants to be in the 2020s before it’s too late.
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