Saturday night Matt, Alex and I were out to dinner with one of our favorite families. We were enjoying a couple adult beverages, laughter and just plain fun. During the conversation, Matt started teasing me about how people tend to tell me their life stories. This includes someone checking me out at the grocery store, people standing in front of or behind me in line, co-workers, friends, friends of friends, etc, etc. It is not uncommon for me to come home from Publix, Walmart, or Target to tell Matt about a story I'd been by a complete stranger. Just last week I had a Publix employee who carried out my bags offer to share a story that he had not been able to tell his own family. There seemed to be something criminal attached to the story so, for the first time ever, told him he probably shouldn't tell me.
As much as it is a family joke, I do enjoy being there as a sounding board for people. I like being the person my friends can come to and vent, unload, or cry to. I feel that this empathy is one of my main strengths and is a huge part of who I am. I could probably do without complete strangers telling me about their marriage or health issues, but if it's a friend, I really don't mind. I'm happy to be there for someone to lean on during times of trouble. I like knowing that people consider me a good listener and someone who is there in times of need or crisis.
This is another thing that has been difficult for me during my cancer fight, and part of why I kept it a secret this go around. It became obvious once I was diagnosed with the 'Big-C' that people didn't feel comfortable sharing their own troubles with me anymore. They felt that what they were dealing with wasn't as important as my battle. I was told numerous times that I had enough on my plate and they didn't want to add more.
But this often left me feeling sad. I didn't WANT my friends/family keeping things from me and it left me feeling shut out. I wanted to be there for one of my best friends as her father was near the end of his life, so I made sure to keep my recurrence to myself. I wanted to be there for a dear friend who was having trouble in her marriage so I didn't share what was going on with my health. I didn't want a friend or family member who was dealing with her own cancer scare NOT to come to me. When friends/loved ones avoided sharing their own troubles, fears and worries, I felt like this altered our friendship and made me feel a distance/a wall between us that I didn't want. So, to keep this from happening, I kept the recent events to myself.
However, one of the things that pushed me to finally tell people was, since they didn't know what was going on, they had no idea what kind of stress I was under. To most of the outside world, people thought of me as a 'cancer survivor'. And since I had been through my journey (and won it in their eyes) it was only natural to ask me to support others during their cancer fight. Almost daily (or often more than once a day) I was hearing about a friend's mother, sister, grandmother, daughter, co-worker, etc that is battling cancer or God forbid, had lost that battle. And I wanted to be there for each and every one of them, I truly did. That's just my nature. I sooooo want to be supportive and giving and caring and a source for information. But it was starting to drain on me. Because each of those calls or texts was a reminder of what I am still going through.
Matt and I got a babysitter a few weeks ago so we could get out just the two of us. But I wasn't there at all in mind or spirit. I was feeling the weight of my struggle and not being able to be honest with everyone. At dinner that night, I felt like I could hardly even talk to Matt because if I opened my mouth to share what was on my mind, I would burst into tears. It became obvious that night that there was no way to keep the secret anymore. It was too much on me and therefore too much on Matt. I needed to be honest with everyone so I could set up some boundaries (and also ask for help).
So, herein lies the issue - finding the balance. I still want to be there for everyone around me, but at the same time I need to give myself the freedom to tell someone I just can't be the support system in that moment. If I'm feeling worn down and weak and don't have anything left to give, I need to say that. And then not feel guilty about it.
Some of you have already heard this story, so please bear with me if it's a repeat for you. When I was 19, I had been dating the same boy, named John, off and on for three years. His family was like my family; I adored them, they adored me. I spent more holidays with them than with my own family. The summer after my sophmore year of college, John's mother, Maria, was murdered in a very brutal way by her husband (John's father). Due to the stress of that situation, John and I broke up. I was very upset because I wanted to be there for him but he completely shut me out. I was talking to his older brother about it and then stopped short. This man had just lost his mother AND father and I was whining about my break up. And that's when he said the words that have always stuck with me: "Vicki, my pain is no worse than your pain. I'm going through a terrible time and you're going through a terrible time. Me losing my parents is painful to me, but your break up is also painful to you. The hurt you feel at not being able to help John has to be awful. There will come a time I can't be there for you and I will let you know. And then I'll need you to be there for me. But never think that you can't come to me just because I lost my mother."
And that is how I feel about this whole cancer thing. I WANT to be there for my friends and loved ones. Please don't EVER feel like just because I have cancer that you can't come to me about your daily troubles, worries or fears. I will NOT think they are trivial. If they are important to you, then they are important to me. This diagnosis does NOT give me the ownership of all pain, heart ache, frustration, fear or worry. You are still entitled to each one of those feelings and I don't want you to hide them from me. There may come a day when I might say I can't help as much as I'd like, but that will only be temporary. Please don't ever take that as a sign that I want you to go away and not lean on me next time. PLEASE don't go away. I will miss you terribly. Please let me be there for you and I will do my best to ask you to be there for me. Pinky swear. :-)
