Truth

After a long meditation, careful thought, and some input from the voice in the back of my head who's two favorite words are “Fuck it", I've decided to be honest. I've already told my mama, which usually means my daddy knows, and I've told my Gma. So all of the important parties have been informed before this shit hits the Internet.
I stayed cancer free for an entire year. I had a slight scare a couple months back when my estrogen levels were sky high, but I was cool. Then, after another set of blood and tissue samples showed that my white blood cell count was unusually high, further probing was required. Turned out, cancer no longer felt that my cervix was a warm and welcoming environment. So, it decided to hit the bricks and move into my pelvic lymph nodes. I panicked when I heard that. I won't lie, I broke the fuck down, locked myself into a bathroom at the oncolgy center, and did a little damage to my right hand when I punched the wall in frustration.
The only thing I could think was, "It's spreading, which means I'm going to die"
That shit fucked me up. It took me back to times where I had prayed for death, even attempted to hurry it along more than once. How ungrateful can one person be? In some way, I felt that this was my penance. For squandering the gift that had been bestowed upon me. I walked out that day, shaking, sobbing, and resigned to an early death.
Since then, I have had my pelvic lymph nodes removed. A very simple procedure. My post op samples look good, and I'm okay. For now. Do I know for sure that it won't ever come back? No more than I know whether or not I'll get hit by a bus tomorrow.
Here's some facts on truth. You may think that you're sparing someone by hiding it from them, and maybe you are. However, if no one knows the truth, no one will come to your rescue. They'll all think everything is fine, that there's nothing to worry about. I'm trying really hard to get off of that lone wolf status and rejoin the pack. It's not the easiest thing in the world, I still don't really like answering the phone, or telling the truth about what's really going on. I'd still rather text you that I'm doing fine, and then go cry by myself. Twisted? Yeah, slightly. But it's me, like it or not.
So, now that I'm done confessing  what's your truth? You don't have to tell me, just tell someone, anyone.
Much love to anyone who reads this. Some days, you're the only backbone I have. Peace and blessings.