In my mind there is a distinct line between pre-cancer and post-cancer Sophie. I think of my life as before April 21st 2004, and after April 21st 2004. I’ve thought of my life like this since diagnosis, when my life changed in a way that I could have never imagined. This is quite a normal thing to do, have a pivotal moment as a frame that you timeline your life around, especially as a child or when your life is at risk. What I also do is think of myself as two separate people. I’m not sure if this is normal, but maybe other people feel it too. I feel like pre-cancer Sophie died and post-cancer Sophie is who I am now. Some of my family members feel the same way, and I think that’s part of the reason why we have not dealt with things very well. When I was in therapy my psychiatrist explained to me that I felt depressed partly because I was in a state of grievance, I still am in a state of grievance, of pre-cancer Sophie. All I wanted was for her to come back, but she never could, and thus ‘pre-cancer Sophie’ had died. It seemed so surreal to me that I could actually be in mourning of myself but when I really thought about it, it did start to make sense. It was like someone took me out of my happy life and shook me until I changed into someone I didn’t want to be in this new and scary world. As with all types of grief, time starts to heal the wound, but it never really goes away. I would liken it to an emotional scar; the most painful when its fresh but it will always be there and you will always see and remember the cause of it.
I think I will always miss pre-cancer Sophie, although I have
to accept that I will never be her again.
Sophie xo
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