Monday, April 8, 2013

Strength = Weakness?

I saw a quote the other day that really struck a chord with me:

"Sometimes the person who gives you strength is also your weakness."

Whoa. Deep, right? When something life-changing happens, you tend to rely on your closest friends and/or family to help you make sense of it all. Frequently, you don't need or really want any advice or input; just an ear (well, or eyes in this technology-obsessed world).

Many times you find the one or two people in your life that just seem to "get it" - whether they shared your experience personally or knew of someone that did. They can say, "I understand what you're going through" and truly mean it. You can let your walls down and show your tears and your anxieties and fears when you'd put on your sassy brave pants for anyone else. You can speak candidly and frankly and know that they'd tell you the truth even if it was to say "I don't know whether to laugh or cry at your Mohawk!"

Is there a point, though, where you cross that line and realize that you rely on them TOO heavily? It's hard to feel like you're a burden to someone, but once you let them inside of the deepest parts of your heart, all bets are off. You've poured your heart out and for whatever reason, their niceties and genuine concern have made them a superhero in your eyes.

I have some amazing friends that have seen me through my darkest days. Some have shocked the socks right off of me. Some drifted away slowly. Did I push them away because I was too needy? Were they going through their own tribulations and just couldn't be "that" person anymore but didn't have the heart to tell me that they needed someone, too? I know that cancer made it all about ME and I apologize from the bottom of my heart for that.

I have tried my best to be a good friend, sister, wife and mother. I like to think of myself as a caring and loving person. I also know that my brain has been clouded by this cancer bullshit and I've latched onto whatever I've needed to to make me feel safe and protected. Maybe to a fault.

I guess the lesson learned is to be patient with people - whether you're the needy one or the "superhero". Let people breathe. Give yourself a chance to breathe, too. If they genuinely care, they're still going to be there. If not - it's okay.



8 comments:

  1. That's the lovely thing about finishing treatment --everyone has time to breathe, now, including YOU.

    I think you're awesome.

    -- jody

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  2. I have always believed in you Nanc. Even when I couldn't believe in anything else. I was one who "drifted". You scared me. I stuck my head in the sand. I've said this from the first time I contacted you via Facebook. You are my "she-ro".

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  3. Thank you, Jody! You're pretty awesome yourself. ;) Im learning to breathe again for sure.

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  4. You're so sweet, Dawn. It's not easy and I get it. You're a good egg. Xoxo

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  5. Just so you know, and I think I speak for several folks, you give me strength. So with that, thank you.

    Donna V.

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  6. Ahhh, my evil twin...you took the quote I tweeted and made it into something amazing. We need to meet each other soon, beacuse shenanigans will ensue and damn, if I couldn't use some shenanigans right about now!

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  7. So glad I read your post before I wrote what I was planning on my blog. It has been all about me since November 1st through 8 chemo treatments. A couple friends have stayed by my side but most moved on. I know this has been hard for them as well. I keep hearing about how a person with a network of at least 10 friends quadruple their chances of surviving breast cancer. Not sure just how much of a friend they need to be.
    BTW - I'm having my lumpectomy and auxiliary dissection TOMORROW! So Nervous! Cousin Katie told me you did well with your reconstruction. Glad to hear! Take care.

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