BLOG ENVY REVISITED

Below is something I wrote two years ago. (My writing mojo seems to have taken some kind of summer sabbatical, so I'm dusting off a popular post and revisiting it.) The topic? Blog Envy. 

Prior to May 2012, when this post first ran, I had never even heard of such a thing. Urban Dictionary describes blog envy as "the jealousy you feel when you see another blog getting recognition in the mainstream press" and "the jealousy you feel when you realize your friend's blog is more popular than yours." 

Seriously?

And that's how my morning started off May 11, 2012...

THE ROAD FROM ANXIETY TO RESILIENCY

© theBigCandMe.blogspot.com

Lately, every click I make leads me to more bad news. Storm clouds seem to be everywhere I turn. I need a buffer between me and life. 

I need to become more resilient. 

By definition, resiliency is being able to withstand or recover quickly from difficult conditions. Um, that would be my life this week. A tale of too much. Allow me to explain...

WRITER'S BLOG BLUES

In case you haven't noticed, I've hit a wall with my blog posts. I've placed my hands on this keyboard more times than I can count, trying to find a way back into blogging about TheBigCandMe. 

After my dreaded rash finally receded (turns out I developed an allergy to laundry detergent and soap), my scars healed, and my doctor was no longer on speed dial, my writing mojo took a sharp turn down the road of recovery — and has all but evaporated.

I've got the writer's blog blues. But I'm in good company. Many of my bloggy friends (The Accidental Amazon, Bringing Up Goliath, Breast Cancer Sisterhood, to name but a few) decided to suspend their blog writing so they can focus their energies on living life post-cancer. 

Other blogs come to a screeching halt because the writer died from cancer...

CELL DETECTORS and SOCIAL MEDIA, DAY 23

DAY 23 of #HAWMC, PART 1: Write about a device I wish existed to help me track my health. I'd invent a portable meter-like device (like the one diabetics use) ...

BLOG ENVY

Three things happened this week that birthed this blog post.

First, I was catching up on my blog reading when I checked in on Jan from Mourning Has Broken; her post title caught my eye. By the time I was done reading it, my emotions had run the gamut. She had shared a secret she'd been harboring for years, and was so brave in revealing her truth that I couldn't comment quickly enough! This is what I wrote:

• "When I first started reading this post and saw the words “blog party,” I thought oh, this is going to be a funny post. As I started reading I realized it was serious — but I thought you were telling the story of the girl in the video. THEN I finally realized you were telling your own story. And then I watched the video. And now I want to give you a great big hug and say you are AWESOME and brave and amazing for sharing your secret! So proud of you!! And so sorry you have suffered with this disorder on top of suffering with BC and lymphedema. It ain’t fair. Truth be told I think we all have idiosyncratic behaviors that we use to keep our anxieties at bay. Some people drink too much. Some eat too much (as you have described). Some have compulsive routines that bring a measure of calm to a very topsy turvy world. Some are hooked into being drama queens. Some people exercise too much. Oh, the list goes on. The important thing to know is that we’re all just trying to cope. And you are definitely not alone. I suspect you have helped more than one person with your sharing today. Good on you!"

That's a cancer surviver for you: Strong, brave, and not afraid to tell the truth. (To read Jan's revealing post, click here.) I continued on with my blog reading.

Next, I popped in and out of a number of blogs (you know how that goes: One blog leads to another, and another...) before I landed on a sweet little one that (again) caught my eye: "Things I'm afraid to tell you." Intriguing title. Sounds like what Jan just did. I keep reading.

I quickly learn that blogging has gotten too pretty, too perfect, and too polished (not my words, but those of other writers). In fact, a movement is underway to bring more honesty to the blogosphere. 

More honesty? Really? Again, I think of Jan's post. And I keep reading: A group of bloggers have challenged each other to be more authentic by writing about the stuff they don't normally discuss on their blogs. You know, the things they are afraid to tell you.

As I'm sure you guessed by now, these are not cancer bloggers. 
So what's this 'movement' all about? Blog envy. It's (apparently) a real thing. Bloggers see beautiful things on other beautiful sites and have a misperception that the blogger has a beautiful life too — free from the many things that make us all human. Bloggers want to see that their fellow bloggers aren't perfect.
Well come on over to Cancerland! I'll show you a community of bloggers that is not shy about sharing its dirty laundry. Heck, it's why we're here in the first place! Our blogs are our attempt to make sense out of cancer, purging our minds of the darkness that hides within its cracks and crannies. 

Yes, I had a good laugh at the humor of it all. But don't get me wrong — I mean no disrespect to anyone out there who is blogging about something other than cancer. (Talk about blog envy — I wish I wrote about travel, not tissue expanders!) We need those kinds of blogs too: The ones focused on the pretty things, the ones we go to in order to forget (for a moment, anyway) our troubles. They're all important. It's just that I had no idea that "blog envy" existed. 'cause I have never felt it. So I decided to leave a comment. And here is what I wrote:

• "This is my first time visiting your blog (I followed a link to 'Things I'm afraid to tell you' and landed here). I feel compelled to leave you a post. I started blogging after a breast cancer diagnosis, and honesty is the backbone of my little corner of the blogosphere. I am stitched into a supportive, witty community of cancer survivors who tell it like it is every single day. No holds barred over there. No one afraid to tell their truth. There is transparency aplenty. And talent. And humor! Lots of humor. Really. But I had no idea that it wasn't like that in other web niches. Never really thought about it before. Kinda having an AHA moment over here — seeing a benefit to cancer I never noticed before. Thank you!"

I felt a great deal of honesty and transparency in leaving my comment. Maybe one person will check out my blog and discover some of your blogs too. We never know the ripple effect that one toe in the water can create. (Ever hopeful am I.)

Lastly, I read a brilliant post by Suleika Jaouad, who writes a column in The New York Times about her experience as a young adult with cancer (in Suleika's case, it is acute myeloid leukemia). The title of her article also caught my eye: "Posting Your Cancer on Facebook."

Whoa. Talk about truth telling. I don't share in that way on Facebook. That's my cancer-free zone. I'm just not comfortable talking about all my 'stuff' to all my peeps when all of them probably don't really want to know all the gorey details. That's why I have this blog. If you are a regular reader, you're not afraid of my truth or my cancer. And that makes me feel safe. Facebook does not feel safe to me in that regard.

Suleika was deep into chemo when she decided to finally "come clean" on Facebook. She writes that it felt "inauthentic, even dishonest" that her FB profile did not reflect her current reality as a cancer patient. I have to give her props; I'm just not ready to do it. 

And that's not blog envy. That's just the truth.

(To read Suleika's revealing post, click here.)

Amended to add: The Huffington Post has picked up on this "truth-telling" phenomenon (aka, TIATTY). OY. Too bad no one mentions cancer bloggers...

OUR LADY WITH CANCER

It's Day 25 of the WEGO Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge and I'm to tell you a memory — but I have to write it in the third person. Here goes!

There is a woman, a very private woman (let's call her "Our Lady With Cancer") who felt oddly ignored during and after her breast cancer "experience." And it seems Our Lady With Cancer brought it all on herself. How so? In choosing not to tell everyone on earth about her diagnosis, she cut off a large lifeline of people that could have made her journey so much easier. 

You see, coming out publicly about having cancer is not in Our Lady With Cancer's blood. She is diligent about keeping references to her health off of Facebook. To her "friends" not in the know, they would never know what she is really going through. And that's the way she likes it. She continues to post pretty pictures and comment on others' FB posts, but she keeps the biggest secret of her life to herself — an attempt at controlling an uncontrollable beast.

She tells the people who need to know — the people she is closest to, her family, the folks she trusts. But she can't handle the thought of being talked about or rejected during this very vulnerable time. So she continues to keep "it" quiet.

She also tells a select few people who are large cogs in her social wheel... people she knows will get the word out. She doesn't want to have to say "I have cancer" too many times. She knows if she turns on the faucet, they will come to the trough.

So it comes as quite a shock when Our Lady With Cancer's pool of support slowly dries up in the weeks and months following her bilateral mastectomy. Though she doesn't talk about "it" on Facebook, she is still surprised when no one addresses her dance with cancer — publicly or privately.

Even members of her extended family are strangely silent. How can this be? She imagines how some would handle a cancer diagnosis — how it would be all they talked about, every detail dripping in drama, drama, drama.

Well, be careful what you wish for, Our Lady With Cancer: You never wanted too much attention, and so you never got it. Our Lady begins to question her worth as a friend, a family member, a patient, a human being in need. She struggles with asking for help when help has never been offered in the first place. The fear of rejection is stifling her vulnerability. 

One day she goes to lunch with a friend (who is also friends with one of the "cogs") and is shocked to learn said friend doesn't know she has cancer. WTF? Our Lady With Cancer emails another former friend — and finds that person similarly shocked. Turns out the cog has kept quiet — respecting the very privacy that is so beloved by Our Lady With Cancer. (Well, what do you know about that!)

Our Lady With Cancer attends a baby shower. The room is packed with people. She decides not to keep "it" a secret any longer. She will openly and gladly talk about her breast cancer experience with anyone at the party who asks. Yet, remarkably, no one does.

But this time, she is not silenced. Our Lady With Cancer brings "it" up. She shocks many in the room that day. Jaws drop left and right. She talks about her fears, her cancer, her reconstruction. In fact, cancer is all she talks about. When she leaves the party, it is with a newfound (and hard-won) freedom. And a lightness of being. An almost unbearable lightness of being.

Now Our Lady With Cancer mentions "it" whenever it is appropriate. On the hiking trail, she falls into conversation with another hiker and tells him she is recovering from breast cancer surgery; he in turn tells her about a close friend with breast cancer who just completed the Ironman. At a farmer's market, Our Lady With Cancer asks for help to her car because she cannot carry heavy bags after her double mastectomy; the woman helping her reveals her own battle with stomach cancer. Our Lady With Cancer is no longer afraid to talk about cancer. And she realizes an old school truth: People are not talking about her. They are not focused on her. They are focused on themselves.

After a friend is diagnosed, Our Lady With Cancer emails — expressing concern and revealing her own cancer. The woman writes back, "Yes, I know. I heard." Our Lady With Cancer understands that people do not always know what to say to people who have cancer. Especially private people who have cancer.

PINTEREST, SCHMINTEREST!

Day 16 of the WEGO Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge and I'm supposed to create a Pinterest board for my health focus. My instructions: Pin three things and write about them. Here's the thing: I don't do Pinterest. I cannot handle another online thing. Really, I can't. And oh I have tried.

I signed up for Pinterest after being invited (puleese) a couple months ago; poked around and said the same thing about Pinterest as I did about Facebook: Now this is a time vacuum! As in, it's gonna suck all the free time right outta me. I did eventually succumb to Facebook but never got around to pining for Pinterest. And I don't tweet either. Signed up for Twitter several years ago (so ahead of my time!) but didn't get it and don't own a smart phone and I'm pretty sure that means no tweeting. (Yes, I am part cavewoman.) So I'm gonna go all old-school on you and just post three things I like a lot.

#1 IS DENTAL WORK SAFE DURING CANCER TREATMENT? As in, should you postpone getting your teeth cleaned or having dental work done until after chemo or radiation or surgery? I found a great article by Robyn Stoller that answers these questions. Read "Dental Care and Cancer" on the awesome Cancer Support Community blog. They do great work. Check them out, spread the word.

#2 SISTERS NETWORK INC Did you know that the breast cancer mortality rate among Black women is a whopping 36% higher than for white women? Neither did I — until I discovered this wonderful nonprofit resource called  Sisters Network Inc. (SNI). It's the only national organization for African American breast cancer survivors in the U.S. They have more than 40 chapters across 22 states. SNI provides a variety of services such as free mammograms, information and support via their Breast Cancer Assistance Program (BCAP). SNI also created Stop the Silence® Walk, now in its third year, as well as Sister House — a sanctuary for breast cancer patients (and their families) who are receiving treatment at Texas Medical Center in Houston. They do great work. Check them out, spread the word.

 #3 If you are not yet registered with the Army of Women, I encourage you to do so now. It's quick, it's easy, it's free. Become an active part of the solution by participating directly in research that will move us closer to (and beyond) a cure. Sign up here. They do great work. Check them out, spread the word.

(Copyright © anonymous)

 #4 You are right, I am only supposed to list three ... but I can't help myself. I wish I could recall where I found this ingenious little illustration. It so perfectly depicts the solution to all of life's many challenges. Don't you love it?

NEW YEAR

I began this blog several months into my journey with breast cancer. Didn't feel like talking about it (much less writing about it) back then. And as I've mentioned in posts prior, my husband and I kept the news to ourselves until January. We hurried through the Christmas holidays in a hushed haze, then squeaked past New Year's by the skin of our teeth. Here's what happened.

A few weeks before the holidays, we go out to dinner with our core group of friends — five couples who spend every New Year's Eve together. The discussion quickly turns to what we are going to do for the big night. My husband and I have already decided we are going to sit this one out. There is no way I can pretend to be happy, in front of friends, about a new year that is ushering in a dirty little secret — we hadn't let the cancer cat out of the bag yet. 

Our friends don't understand our sudden desire to spend New Year's alone. My husband takes the curmudgeon hit, saying he can't bear to sit in a noisy, over-crowded restaurant for hours on end and would rather just stay home. They think he is getting old and crotchety (who isn't?). And of course they try to convince us (as all good friends will) to come along, or do something other than dinner. They promise we'll have a blast and say we're silly for sitting at home when we can do that any night of the week. After all, man, it's a new year!

Exactly.

The pressure is daunting. Everyone wants us to hang out with them but I feel like I'm drowning. (Can I get a life jacket over here? Please?) But we stick to our guns, and though our friends think we've gone a little bonkers, they ultimately respect our desire for a "romantic evening" alone. (Ha.)

New Year's Eve goes out the way it came in — quietly. We watch the ball drop, try not to think about the ball of anxiety that's been dropped in our laps, and go to bed.

Our friends post pictures on Facebook of what looks like a fab New Year's Eve, with dancing and drinking and goofy noisemakers. It really does look like fun. (And it really doesn't look like they miss us.) 

In hindsight, our little white lie has left a pretty bad taste in my mouth. If I had it to do it over again, I would:

1) Tell my friends and family sooner rather than later. 

2) Gladly put my poker face on

3) Toss back a flight of champagne 

4) Toast to a Healthy New Year

5) Be happy I am able to do any and all of the above.

... because soon enough, I'll have more days and nights sitting at home than I care to count.

(For more, see Finding Support.)