In this surreal cancer play the stage has been set. Our scenery is hospital waiting rooms (5 in the last week). Our dialogue is about illness, treatments, and health updates. We have a supporting cast of doctors, nurses, therapists and concerned friends and family.
I find myself reading my own script and character notes. More than a few people have talked about me being 'strong' for C right now. It seems I'm to perform the role of the stoic carer. I know that this is a role I could play with oscar-winning brilliance because it feeds into much of my pre-existing bullshit. I could easily put my needs to one side and take no small amount of pride in playing the role of the caring, supportive partner as C goes through this process.
Isn't she lucky to have me.
And if I do play that role maybe C will get through this journey in one piece. Or maybe she won't. But either way our relationship will have been lost the moment I stopped being me.
I'm scared of losing so much on this ride. C. Us. And myself. The waves are big and the energy is strong. It's all so real, the only way I know how to meet it is with my own 'realness'. Which isn't strong or stoic. I'm afraid. My real strength isn't in my ability to be unaffected, or hide how this is affecting me. The strength I need right now is my ability to feel every inch of this vulnerability and to hold on to myself through this process.
I was talking with my therapist about how I could prepare myself for the road ahead. We ended up talking about super heroes and what super power I might need right now. I chose authenticity. Still being me amongst all of this is going to be one hell of an achievement.
Which I'm sure means that C and I will share a smile on the many occasions I act like a complete tool over the next few months - yep - I'm definitely still me.
Comments