My Sister's Cancer

This is my point of view of the events following the diagnosis of my younger sister's cancer.
From December to May.


1. My Sister's Cancer

When people ask me how I’m doing, I frequently reply that I’m simply living. It was like that even before my younger sister was diagnosed with a lymphoma. I couldn’t lie like so many others and say that I was fine because, to be honest, I wasn’t fine at all.  Yet, I couldn’t understand why I was so sad: I was healthy, just like every single member of my family before cancer struck; I had loving friends, good grades at school and lots of people who loved me. Nonetheless, I wished I could die in my sleep countless times. I think the worse is that I started wishing for bad things to happen because at least then, I would’ve had a good reason to be sad. My world was tinted with blackness, the first darkening starting in the month of October of grade 9.

It was the eve of finals week. I had heard about it here and there and if I’m to be honest, curiosity played a major part in its beginning. The house was empty the first time I pressed the sharp blade of a kitchen knife along my wrists. On the evening of October 28th, 2012, I blindly started what has now become my greatest addiction. Every now and then I find myself regretting the fact that I started self-harming, especially noticing how much pain it inflicted to the people around me, but other times I’m just relieved because without it, I think I might’ve lost my mind. There was something enticing about controlling the physical pain whilst the mental one just kept assaulting me without restraint.

For many months, I kept painting my story on my body, driven by stress and self-hate. Wrists, ankles, stomach, shoulders, chest, nothing was spared.

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