There is an element in living with cancer that involves chronic and often acute fatigue. If you have been following my blogs and podcasts, last year I wrote about how I think I am a hare in a turtle’s body. In other words, my mind, my goals, the things that I really enjoy doing all require a fair bit of sustained energy and sometimes physical strength – I like to be a hare – going fast. And yet my body needs more rest than my mind, my energy levels require constant replenishment, my stamina for physical tasks is way more limited than I would like, so I feel like I am in a turtle’s ‘go slow’ body. Having cancer and my increased physical needs have really brought out the ‘turtle’, and I find that it makes me feel incredibly vulnerable.

Before I got the diagnosis and understood what my body was doing, I would push through the fatigue and other symptoms, hoping that my mind could win out. Now I don’t (well I try not to), but what it raises for me are the questions of the reality of vulnerability.

It’s Sunday afternoon, on a beautiful, peaceful summer’s day. I could be singing with the band, then having dinner with my family, but today my body holds me back and instead I’m lying on the couch feeling the hurt of not being able to do what I would like to do.

It makes me think of other’s who live with this feeling and need all the time - the chronically ill, the aged, the infirm, the people suffering from depression, to name just a few.

I recently watched my otherwise healthy mother die with dementia, and in the end she decided, or forgot, how to eat and she literally wasted away. I know that in the 5 or so years she was living with worsening dementia, there were times when she felt incredibly vulnerable because her mind was letting her down and she knew she was losing control.

I watched many years ago as friends of mine had conjoined twins, which were separated and only one survived to see beyond her first year of life. They were not in control of what was going on and I watched as they struggled with the decisions that they had to make for their two precious children, tough decisions – I watched them struggle with their vulnerability, heard their struggles with questions regarding fault and blame and why.

I journeyed with David through a tumour on his spine, then a year of kidney operations and I watched him suffer in great physical pain. At times he was down on his knees not knowing how to cope and he was vulnerable to the fear of not knowing when the pain would go away, and if he could tolerate it.

I shared with a girlfriend the heartache of losing her husband to a sudden premature death, the uncertainty of her future, the need to make huge life changing decisions, and I witnessed her vulnerability at not knowing if she could hold it all together.

These are extreme things that happen from time to time. It’s part of life and I wonder if these cases of vulnerability are easier to accept than the everyday uncertainties that leave us with more questions than we have answers.

Am I good enough?

Do I have what it takes to succeed?

Does my husband still think I’m pretty?

How can I make sense of what is going on?

Why am I being overlooked?

Can I live with this pain?

Will I die too young?

How can I love myself when I feel such shame?

Some of these questions are mine, others are not, but I’ve heard them asked, and more.

I know that I am a strong person, I have a strong faith and I believe that everything happens for a reason and if we look carefully we can see the good that moves us forward.

But at the same time, having a body that is doing something I understand the science of, and yet don’t fully understand the meaning of ‘why’ yet, leaves me feeling alone at times, sad at times, uncertain of my future, a bit scared of what I might have to endure, and most of all grief at the losses.

I know that I am not alone in this journey. I know that everyone kneels at the foot of vulnerability at times. Some of us try to deny it or push it under the carpet. Some of us are overwhelmed by it and fall flat on our face. Some of us let the feelings rise up and be validated, allowing the emotion to guide us to higher levels of thinking, understanding and ultimately living.

I think I do all of the above at different times. If you are honest with yourself, you may find the same applies to you.

In all of it, my prayer is that we can rise above the fear of the reality of being vulnerable, allow ourselves to share our hardest times, darkest thoughts and scariest questions, with those we trust, and in doing so find deeper, more fulfilling relationships, filled with purpose and meaning – starting as always with our relationships with ourselves.

When we let go of the fear, we can experience life more fully, knowing we are not alone and knowing that ultimately the business of life is living itself.

I’ll sign of with this quote:

‘Vulnerability is the only bridge to build connection’. Anonymous

Hmmm – more on that later!

Be Happy.
Merelyn Carter

Merelyn’s writing is supported in part by the sale of her books. Autobiography - ‘The Deepest Part of Me’.  ‘Inspire’ – inspirational reflections for your life’s journey.  ‘Stories behind the Songs’ and her first children’s picture book ‘To The Moon and Back - Grandma’s Rocket Ship Adventure’. To find out more about her work and to support her through the purchase of her writings and music, please go to www.carterandcarter.com.au