It often feels like an uphill struggle to find any joy in amongst the fear, anxiety and, at times, depression that my cancer diagnosis has brought into my life. At times, I’ll be honest, it’s felt like an impossible task, with joy a distant memory faded and tatty around the edges. This is where I’ve been at recently, struggling with the side effects of the chemotherapy and feeling more alone than ever. I could see myself falling deeper and deeper into the dark void, and it was so easy. I was so tired and so overwhelmed by it all, letting it wash over me felt like a welcome relief.
But this last week or so, I decided to try to find and write moments of joy. To focus not on the fear, anxiety and depression, but on the joy that I knew in my heart of hearts was still there, somewhere. To reclaim the joy as my own. And so, my writing has become - for a little while anyway! - a tool in my mission to regroup and reclaim.
I’ve written about small things that have made me smile. I’ve written about the people around me who continue to show me such incredible love and support. I’ve written about the moments of joy I’ve managed to capture on the good days, and the things we’re planning for the end of my treatment. And what I’ve found is that the more I’ve written about these morsels of joy, the more I’ve looked for them. It’s like the act of reclaiming them in writing has made them a part of me again.
It’s not been a magic wand and there have still been times over the last few days when it’s all overwhelmed me again. But I’ve found it a little bit easier to come back from it, to step back off the edge and to breathe. By setting the moments of joy down on the page, they’re there: something to hold onto, something to keep me afloat. So, it’s not a magic wand but once again I’m surprised by the magic of writing, the way it seems to renew, to reinforce, to strengthen. I’ve reclaimed a bit of joy and made it my own again - my words, my voice, my joy.
