Dear Diary,

 

Everyone knows that cancer is just the body eating itself alive. Fear is that way… eats you up like cancer until nothing of whatever you are is left and unrecognizable to others. It spreads to keep angels chained to the ground. I hate fear and it’s there eating me alive.

 

I’ve always been the type of person who could never see myself not achieving something out of fear. But as the dawn nears, I can now see with clarity the ragged edges of fear inside the protected folds of my life. Now that I can see Fear’s face trying to hide in my closet behind all the skeletons, my days of coasting is coming to a close. I won’t have anything to hide behind and people will see that I’m only a Scythian afraid of the shadows.

 

It’s alarming, really. Shameful. Fear, like little teeth are digging into tender flesh- tearing away the best parts of me and stuffing it down its ugly, tight throat. It’s feasting on all the things I wanted to share with those that I love, but can’t because it is being hungrily torn away from me. I’ve been letting it by living in denial that I’ve always known Fear’s face. I knew it was in the closet with the skeletons. I’ve always known. I’ve always been afraid…


…and I’m the woman with fear for cancer.

Is there any cure?

 

Forever Yours,

Scarey in Shadows