Help

The Facebook Posts – Mel’s Cancer Diaries

I struggled with what people might think of me going public with my breast cancer experience. Yet, I keep writing because that is how I process and it is a significant part of my mental healing. What I’ve found through my public journal is that people are responding to it in ways I never expected.

In the world of social media we measure a persons fondness towards us through likes and comments. Frankly, the likes and comments on a post are not what matter most. It is when a friend calls me personally to tell me he reads my diaries. Or, when I run into someone at the grocery store who makes a point to compliment my openness and encourages me to keep revealing more.

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Nightmares

The Facebook Posts – Mel’s Cancer Diaries

This is a very difficult entry for me to write. But, I have to write because writing is therapy for me.

Since the mastectomy (about two weeks ago) I’ve had terrible dreams. No, not dreams. Nightmares. I dream that something is being destroyed. It could be a towering inferno to a burnt pot-roast. Sometimes it is Thanksgiving dinner that catches on fire, ruining the beautiful turkey. Fire and skin are the running themes that posses my REM sleep cycle. The destruction is different each night, but they all add up to irreversible damage.

The night before last was so bad that I can’t believe my brain let me imagine such things. I needed to talk about it so I made myself tell my oldest daughter. It was difficult to describe because the destructive action in the dream was ME doing the harm. And, at the same time, it was me trying to repair the harmed. The dream was about a beloved pet dog. I was trying to put her skin back to together after realizing that I had somehow burned her. It was unclear how I damaged her skin, yet I had the understanding that it was me who did the damage. The part I remember clearly was trying to put her back together as if nothing had happened. It was my fault she was “broken” and my responsibility to “fix” her.

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