A Concept of Time

A concept of time

My mind feels like the first 10 seconds after waking up from an accidental nap.
Mostly disoriented and mildly questioning reality.
Not quite sure how much time has passed,
but at least certain that I’m still alive.

–

It’s been two years of measuring my days in resilience.
Partitioned into lapses of checkups every two months.
Unsure of what my next symptom will be
or when I’ll finally be able to think normally again.

Although life has always hinged on the expectation of uncertainty,
my parents taught me to march through it with confidence.
Hands extended —
ready to soften the blow if I fell.

I try my best,
But cancer took me hostage, tied my hands behind my back
And released me into an old world with a new manual.

One thing is to accept that falling is inevitable,
And entirely different
Is not knowing how you’ll be able to get back up each time.

Although I have gained a lot of perspective through this journey,
learned to rely less on my “hands”…
enough faceplants start to leave some nasty scars.

Thinking takes twice as much effort than it did before…
I used to know the framework of my thoughts and emotions very intimately,
granted, I often didn’t know how to handle them,
But clarity wasn’t scarce.

Things move quickly but incredibly slowly,
And time rarely makes sense.
It’s like I take one step forward and three steps sideways.

Getting older but also feeling like my life just restarted.
I want to have a family, keep traveling, spend time with the people I love, grow my career,
But how can I plan for a future I am unsure I’ll get to experience.

I do hope for the best though,
Always carrying gratitude for the doors that remain open.
But I am so exhausted,

and somehow I am both only and already 24.