January 28th 2020. Today I went to a support group for brain tumor survivors.

And unexpectedly the meeting had a very adverse effect. I looked around the room, at married couples holding each other’s hands in support, and I just couldn’t hold back the feeling that I don’t deserve this at my age. I felt angry. I felt betrayed in some way. I felt alone. In a room full of cancer survivors and I still felt alone. Perhaps their intimate relationships on display and their beautiful support for each other, in sickness and in health, till death do they part was all too much for single me. I longed for a person, my person. And fear surfaced, and stayed.

I finished an incredible book last night titled On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous. A gift from a high-school friend (thank you), it profoundly colored my lens. And I began piecing together moments in my own life where beauty was existence. Memories often where the feeling of being completely at peace were central, flooded my tumor pressed mind. How great this life, how gracious this world, and how beautiful this act of living is. My sadness weighed down the feeling that I may never know true love. What if my time left is meant to be brief? Perhaps to protect us from loneliness and loss, leaving this life early is only granted to the good hearted. For sometimes dying is easy and living is harder.

But mostly I am left with questions. Questions for my doctors and nurses, questions for my friends, questions of mortality, and questions that pang at my skull as if the very thought was clawing it’s way out of my grey matter. To escape the brain was my thought’s way of becoming real. And if it makes it to my tongue before my short term memory loss flushes it away, then I know it was meant to be.

This journal helps me validate myself. I don’t have a “David” of my own to be my advocate. I am simply an island. I look out and I look in. I hold the hand of fate and I am held in the embrace of the creator. And at each moment of awareness I awake to myself. We all exist in our own image of ourselves. And in the support group I didn’t see myself. But I will keep going. Because that’s what we do. We keep learning, and trying, and fighting, and living. We keep on breathing. We keep on.

2 Replies to “January 28th 2020. Today I went to a support group for brain tumor survivors.”

  1. Hi My sweet David. Do not have doubt or anger. Remember there are no mistakes in this life. God does not make them. Try to clear your mind. I love you as so many others do.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Baby all I can say is some people are given that love and some never get that chance. I though I had found it but 10 years later nope, Evin thought she found it but nope.

    I see some of my friends with partners they have had for 50 years and I wish it was me too.

    You are loved , you have amazing friends and a brilliant mind and sometimes that’s what we get.

    How lucky to be loved. How lucky to have family that loves you so very much. Everyone who knows you prays for you and that’s a lot of prayers.

    I watch my sister forget she has cancer and choses to just be happy. I have sent her some of your beautiful journals.

    You are amazing !!! Remember that ! Remember how much you are loved , bask in the light of their love when you are down and scared let all of us pull you back up. Give our love your power❤️

    Evin loves you soo . We wear your bracelets everyday you are never away from our hearts.

    Call Evin she would be over the moon to talk to you
    Love you

    Liked by 1 person

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