Each morning I would struggle to open my dresser drawers, jammed full with years of holey tights and skimpy swimsuits, until one day I had finally had enough. I pulled out all of the drawers and decided not to put them back again until I went through the contents of each one and refilled the drawers with only what was loved, in good shape, and in the right size. Of course, the drawers sat around on our bedroom floor for about a month until I had finally tackled the daunting task of carefully organizing each one. You guys- there were swimsuits I hadn’t worn since high school! Talk about a waste of space. But now that my dresser is thoughtfully filled with only what I need? I don’t need to take a walk down memory lane when I open a drawer- all I have to do is grab exactly what I’m looking for. Whew!

Before I was diagnosed with cancer earlier this Spring, I definitely felt like my life was just like my dresser drawers- overstuffed with accumulated responsibilities and confused priorities. I didn’t know that’s how I felt at the time- until everything fell apart. I thought I was happy trying to do it all- because I thought that was what I should want. But in actuality, the huge expectations I had heaped on myself to do more, experience more, make everything beautiful, travel more, blog more, socialize more, work more, do more creative work, and make everyone happy in the meantime- it was all just slowly chipping away at my joy and making me feel like a failure. Somehow I had no idea that my life was getting too full and complicated. Part of it was just not coping well with life changes that happen with new motherhood and a bit of a quarter life crisis. Another major aspect that led to my tipping point was that my twenties were throwing all of their big changes and challenges at me all at once. And I was refusing to deal with it. A miscarriage, a new mortgage, almost certain unemployment for Phil, a brand new colicky baby, two knee surgeries for Phil, a scary life-threatening surgery for me, a cancer diagnosis, never ending work on our new house, and never enough time or money.

It’s a little difficult, as a contemplative person and a fluid thinker, to ever be at peace when life gets messy. My thoughts were a scary mess that I ignored until I was left alone with them at night- unable to rest, and unable to quiet my mind. I felt like I was juggling all of these responsibilities, fears, and legitimate concerns, but my arms were getting tired. I knew one of those balls I was juggling would fall to the ground, and instead of feeling relief at letting them go, I was freaking out about losing my sense of control. I finally came to the realization that I had been trying to ground myself, through sickness and life changes, by engaging in fulfilling work. But I wasn’t making much money at it, and so it just added more stress by taking away time that I needed to spend elsewhere- like with my family, or even just keeping my house reasonably clean and my body moderately nourished. I realized that what I thought of as “grounding myself,” was actually just distracting me from things that had been building up and needed to be dealt with immediately. So when I got that cancer diagnosis, and I started an exhausting two-month round of radiation treatment, I just let it all go. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Either way, it was a good thing that it happened.

During radiation, I couldn’t do much of anything, much less even consider doing everything. Everyone in my life expected me to just quit everything and rest. Thank God. So that’s what I did. And that’s when I realized how happy I am when I’m resting and feeding my soul with loving people and zero expectations. I worked on creative projects that I didn’t share on my blog or social media. No expectations, no worries about what people would think. I went days without even logging onto the internet, and I let my e-mail inbox go ignored. Without even worrying about it! I was so refreshed and amazed at how great it felt to just let it all go. I started taking time to just focus on me. My fears. My life. My body. And my health- mental, physical, and spiritual health.

When I first started feeling sick and realized I had lost all control, at first I freaked out. It was scary feeling at the mercy of life- of cancer, of school levies (for Phil’s job security), of oncologists, and of the innumerable uncertainties of living in a broken world. I started thinking fatalistic thoughts about how uncertain all of life is- about how Phil could even die in a car wreck on the way home from school, and I would just sob thinking about losing him. It was debilitating. But I started praying more. Searching my soul, and letting God work in my heart. It doesn’t make sense until it happens. It’s like something clicks. I began to shift my perspective. No, I can’t control what happens tomorrow, but what is something I can count on? The sun still rises in the morning, the rain still falls. God sends his peace when I ask for it, and I feel grounded by the things that are actually important. I discovered that my quest to control everything, my being too busy, and my feeling like I needed to do more was all just keeping me from enjoying life. I didn’t want to feel exhausted after making it through another day and another to-do list. I didn’t want to keep looking at my list of goals and just feel relieved that I was one day closer to reaching them. I didn’t want to obsess over things that I would someday have or achieve. I needed to live life now. Enjoy what I have now. Love the people I have in my life now. Because we really can’t control what happens tomorrow. Or even if there will be a tomorrow.

After all that I’ve gone through in the past year or so, it would be easy to just look back on it all with a scowl and a breath of relief that it’s all over. But I don’t want to continue through life making the same mistakes over again. I don’t have an imminent fear of dying like I did when I first learned I had cancer. But I still want to live life with an urgency to enjoy the day to day, and not fall back into the rat race of controlling everything and losing life to busyness. So instead of letting all of life’s stresses fill up in my life again, I decided some cleaning out was in order. I mentioned once before that after my radiation treatment was over, I wasn’t sure how to get back to life. I wasn’t sure what was important, or what I even cared about any more. So now that I’ve come out of that two month stretch of not doing much, instead of picking it all back up again and trying to juggle all of the roles and responsibilities I had been juggling before, I’ve been analyzing what I want to let back into my life, and what I should probably set aside for now, or maybe forever.

Before I lost control and had my minor meltdown, I had built a persona for myself, fueled by the unwitting encouragement of those around me, that was just growing to encompass more and more things, and causing more and more stress. Designer. Photographer. Blogger. Vintage shop “owner.” Mother. Fashionista. Chef. Friend. Hostess with the mostest. Dutiful daughter. The list goes on. And it’s all just too much to juggle. I love all of these things, but I need to figure out how they all fit into my life. What time do I have to give to each one, and when is it time to just let that role expire? I’m sort of learning that after all of the balls you’ve been juggling fall down, you have to start again with just one at a time. And then figure out a new rhythm that works.

The most important things to me right now are making connections with people, helping provide for my family’s needs, and enjoying life-enriching experiences. If I’m spending time or energy on something that doesn’t fit into this criteria, and I begin to wonder why I’m doing it, I’m just going to stop. That might seem like common sense, but for an overworked, ambitious people-pleaser? It’s so difficult to cut it out and just be real with myself about what is actually important. I’m committed to not feeling like a failure for quitting something that I don’t enjoy or that’s taking up too much of my precious time. I won’t feel like a bad friend for needing to stay home and rest. And I won’t feel deprived when I don’t have the possessions I thought I wanted or needed, because spending time with my family is more important than buying things for them. Oh the pep talks I will need to give myself. And oh, the times when life’s stresses will remind me all over again for my need to simplify and bring my worries to God. It’s a process. And maybe you knew that already. But me? I’m just begin to figure it all out.

photos by Churchill Photography

I sort of left you all hanging there, didn’t I? I started radiation therapy at the beginning of May, and it definitely challenged me in many ways. Mostly, I found myself spending 3 hours driving to and from Cleveland every day just to get to The Cleveland Clinic. I had visits with doctors, therapists, nutritionists, nuclear body scans, and the radiation machine. At first, it didn’t feel like the radiation machine was really doing anything, but after a week, I felt it taking its toll on my body and emotions.

I don’t have time for anything except cancer.

At least, that’s how it felt during my treatment. I felt pretty grumpy a lot of the time, and decided it was best for the general public if I mostly stayed off social media, and keep my complaints to myself. It was an interesting departure from every day life, getting to connect with people who were suffering from terminal tumors, who were so upbeat and happy to see me and Lucy every day. Of course, there were those who were obviously very depressed as well. I like to think that Lucy helped brighten their days with her antics and general cheerfulness. And as sad as this might be, seeing those people who were not doing well actually made me feel much better about my situation. It could be much, much worse!

So, what was radiation treatment like? Well, they fashioned a plastic mask that strapped me down to a plank, then they would leave the room, and I would lay there while a big disc rotated around my head and neck zapping radiation into my body. The first side effect that I experienced was mouth sores. I had water blisters pop up any time I ate. Then, my mouth became very dry and eating was too difficult to enjoy. It got worse when my throat became raw. The red burns on my face and neck were just glimpses of the burning that was going on inside my body. Any flavorful food on my throat felt like razorblades, and when my saliva glands started working, they would clog up and my mouth would break out into blisters again. Once I completely lost all taste, it was actually easier, because bland foods didn’t irritate me as much, and I didn’t mind eating bland foods. I just have to make sure they’re moist, so I can get it from my mouth to my stomach. You’d be surprised how challenging it is to eat when your saliva is barely there, and more like a thick paste coating the tongue.

I had been using food as a coping mechanism basically since Christmas. Facing a dangerous surgery, learning that I have cancer, and then hearing about how difficult radiation would be, I basically treated myself to eating anything I wanted whenever I wanted it. I gained back the weight I had lost post pregnancy, and basically hated getting dressed because none of my clothes were fitting me right. Which might explain why I sort of quit posting outfit shots here, eh? Once I lost my taste and ability to enjoy food, it really forced me to look at how I was treating food. I became depressed because I JUST WANTED A DAMN COOKIE! But eating a cookie when your mouth is like the Sahara Desert, and your taste buds are hibernating… well, it’s just not really eating a cookie. And nothing can be more frustrating to a stress-eater!

Basically, I barely ate anything for about a week, and that resulted in me feeling even worse. My energy plummeted, and all I wanted to do was lay in bed and sleep. Somebody wake me up in 5 months when I’m back to my normal self, I thought. Since the nurses warned my family that I would be very tired and would need lots of rest, they all pitched in and helped me rest. I laid around feeling awful and sad, sipping on my stinky Boost very high calorie drinks. When suddenly I decided enough was ENOUGH! I need to take this opportunity to start eating completely clean, as difficult as it is to eat real food, and give my body the best food I have access to. And, imagine this, as soon as I changed my diet, I began feeling great! I learned what not to eat in order to keep my mouth from breaking out into blisters, and even got enough energy to start exercising! During radiation! The people at the hospital literally thought I was joking when I told them I had begun to get up early every day before treatment and exercise.

Well, now I’m finished with radiation, and in three months I should be back to my normal self! And my scans showed that there is no more cancer in my body- so it looks like we caught the bugger just in time to save my life! I’m so full of joy, and after a lot of introspection, I have definitely settled at a point where I’ve reevaluated my life and know where I’m going from here.

I need to start living differently.

After discovering how amazing my body felt when I treated it properly, I’ve become obsessed with eating clean and exercising my body. I guess when you get cancer at such a young age, it really shocks you with the realization that you are not invincible. And when you pollute your body frequently (as I did) and neglect exercising your body (as I had been doing since I graduated college), you really don’t stand a chance. Life is too short to spend it in hospitals as I have been doing for the past several months. And life is too short to hate the way you look and feel in clothes! (…or out of clothes, for that matter!) I know I talk a lot about body confidence, and I still stand by the things I’ve said. You can be confident in your body no matter its size. But I had to face the truth that I was thirty pounds overweight (when did that happen?!), at risk for heart problems, and because I was neglecting my body, I really was starting to become ashamed of it. That started taking its toll on me emotionally, and also in respect to how I allow my husband to love me and my body. Not good.

So! You guys, I am making a major life change, and will definitely be investing more time into taking care of my body and preparing well balanced, healthy meals. I won’t barrage you with everything to do with it here, but if you want to follow along with my journey to get healthy and lose weight, you can follow me on My Fitness Pal (my SN is MandiMakes) and follow my Tumbler called Mandi Makes Progress. My Fitness Pal is so great, because I can set my calorie goal, and then make sure all of the calories I’m eating are fulfilling all of my body’s nutritional requirements. I have target percentages for carbs, fats, and proteins, and also make sure I’m getting enough nutrients like iron and potassium- easily seen in the charts that are updated as you add your food for the day. It was a lot of hassle at first, but I’m making it a habit, and since it saves the food I frequently eat, it’s became much more convenient to use. As far as my Tumblr blog goes, I’ll be posting my before and after pictures as I progress (first set will appear on the first of July, since that will be a month since I began the change), inspirational photos (basically before/afters for weight loss, and healthy looking fit bodies), healthy meal and treat ideas, and inspirational quotes (I used to hate those, but sometimes they really do help motivate me!).

Oh, and guess what?! Lucy is growing up so fast! She’s nine months old! Life is changing pretty quickly around here!

As the shocking news of the Boston Marathon bombing filtered through social media, so did the criticisms for those who continued tweeting and blogging as if nothing had happened. Some were outraged at the insensitivities, while others were ready to give the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they haven’t heard the news? But soon it was inescapable. Everyone on social media must have head about it, and while many people were struck with the urge to go hug their brothers, unplug from the internet, and take time out to just enjoy being alive, there were countless other people who had to return to work. They wondered when it would again become appropriate to tweet about the mundane sales their shop was offering, or share photos promoting their recent blog post. For those who were close to the tragedy, whether they were Bostonians, marathon runners, or they were actually there when it happened, the readiness to return to normal activities might take a long time to happen. Perhaps things will never seem the same, though gradually a sense of normalcy might return, and it happens at different times for different people.

Those who have lost loved ones in senseless tragedies like the Boston Marathon bombing and the Sandy Hook shootings will always look at the world differently, and will struggle with anger or impatience for people who chronically complain about the silly things, or #firstworldproblems, like a sniffly nose or a husband’s lack of interest in closing cabinet doors after opening them. While I haven’t been closely involved in a tragedy, I have been diagnosed with cancer and struggle with the same disconnect from the otherwise healthy and blessed community I’m surrounded by. Sniffly noses and lazy husbands? My reaction is usually not empathetic. I usually think that one should be grateful for the breath that sniffs a runny nose and for the fact that a husband is still around to forget about closing cupboard doors. But if I’m honest with my feelings, this judgmental attitude isn’t a more evolved way of looking at life. It’s a peculiar mix of a gratefulness for life and a jealousy for those whose problems are smaller than my own. I’m quite certain, though, that anyone who goes through hard times, or witnesses them via the media, has probably experienced similar feelings.

There seems to be an unknown timeline for tragedies. The public is expected to limit and consider what they say on Twitter or Facebook in the light of horrific events. Maybe they should stay silent and disconnect from social media altogether. But for how long? How long do you disconnect from the day-to-day activities that had been a part of your everyday life? And how long do you look at the world with a different perspective forced upon you by an unexpected act of violence or a terrifying medical diagnosis? The answer is different for everyone. For some people it’s just a brief moment. For others, it may be the rest of their lives. We all have a different timeline, and I’m still trying to figure out my own.

Do you remember how you felt when you read about the Boston Marathon bombing, and then scrolled through Twitter to see people still complaining about being stuck in traffic or posting ridiculous selfies taken in their bathroom mirror? Did it strike you as disrespectful and trite? When did you decide that it was okay for people to start sharing the parts of their lives that had seemed insignificant after the tragedy had struck? There are people in parts of the world that experience tragedy every day. When do they decide it’s appropriate to enjoy and partake in the meaningless details of life after their child dies, or a neighbor is shot down in the street? Should we all live our lives every day in awareness of the fragility of life, or would it cripple our ability to enjoy it? These are all the questions that many Americans were contemplating after the bombing, and they’re questions I’ve been grappling with ever since I prepared for my surgery in March.

I have been given a new perspective on life, only it hasn’t faded away with media coverage. If I forget for a moment that I have cancer, I’m reminded when I wake up in the morning and drive an hour for my radiation therapy. Or maybe I’m reminded when I glance at my mounting hospital bills, or see a missed call from the hospital. How do I continue living my life, washing the dishes, taking out the trash, and tweeting about shoes, when I’m now aware, 24-7, of the fragility of my life and the urgency to hold close my family and friends? When do I start regularly blogging again? When will I even care about regularly blogging again? I’ve been considering the timeline for my own little tragedy. I have been keeping an upbeat spirit, but have yet to figure out how to reconcile my new perspective on life with the realities of my life as it was before my health problems arose. I do enjoy doing crafts. I really love sharing fashion insights. Sure, those are meaningless things, but they add some excitement and joy to my life, so I’ll definitely be indulging in them once again. But at the same time, I have gained a fresh perspective on life in general, and I certainly feel it permeating every aspect of my mind and body’s activities. I’d like to do more with this space than just adding to the clutter of the internet. So now I just need to figure out how my own personal timeline will unfold.