The Path to Normalcy

Hello again,

It's been an incredibly hectic few months. Which leads me to something I feel is important to discuss that I'm sure isn't all too foreign, at least on some level, to many:

I tend to get overwhelmed somewhat easily, especially with the more mundane aspects of life—work, school, bills, insurance, socializing, what have you—and especially when they're all happening simultaneously. For years, I felt ill-equipped, like a failure, for not being able to deal with the realities of independent living. This was a near-constant thought I repeated like the world's worst mantra.

Yet, when it comes to traumatic events in my life—surgery, car accidents, cancer scares, joint collapses, etc.—I cope far better than most. After ten years of dealing with grim prognoses and continual setbacks, what most people would consider horrific experiences are my normal. The reason? I was diagnosed with  leukemia a little over ten years ago, just as I was about to graduate high school, and so instead of learning and adjusting with my peers to adulthood, I struggled just to stay alive and, once I'd come out the other side, to recover. The natural path of leaving the nest and learning to navigate the real world wasn't mine to walk. Instead, I found myself on a more winding path to a reasonably normal life, slowly picking up the skills necessary to do so.

While I added to my repertoire of life skills, I contended with numerous surgeries and other setbacks that served as an ever-growing ball and chain that slowed my progress to a crawl. And the depression and anxiety and PTSD from my battle with cancer and the cure were as broken glass along that path, pain and suffering that reinforced the belief it was far easier to stay put than continue on to endure further cuts, slowly bleeding my resolve. Each additional mundanity increased the incline of the path—growing ever steeper, ever more daunting.

The combination of these factors is sometimes enough for me to shed some of my less urgent tasks to pour my effort into those that are necessary—to ease the angle of the path and thus the energy required for forward progression. Over the last couple years I've become better at juggling multiple responsibilities, but it has not been easy, and I've had to do it almost entirely on my own.

I know I'm not alone in this predicament. Many young adult cancer survivors have similar issues, as do people with depression, anxiety, and other mental illnesses. That's why it's so important to find ways of tailoring support to those who struggle, because as it sits today, the resources can be improved. It begins with our attitude toward how we offer support and what we think adequate to get these people back on their feet. Unfortunately, the problem doesn't just go away when someone is "cured," there are lingering after-effects that can be just as damaging and difficult to overcome as the original diagnosis.

The issue is a pervasive one, and only when we work to find the best treatments not just for those currently suffering their maladies, but for those recovering as well, can we ease their path back to normalcy.

~Andrew