Things I Used To Worry About

The Feral Truth: Some lessons arrive as gentle reminders. Others kick down your front door and reorganize your priorities without permission.

I used to worry about the dumbest things.

Not dumb at the time, obviously.

Very important things.

Life-altering things.

The kind of things that kept me awake at night.

Like whether people liked me.

Whether I looked fat in pictures.

Whether my house was clean enough.

Whether I was falling behind at work.

Whether my hair looked weird.

Whether I was doing enough.

Being enough.

Accomplishing enough.

Basically, I spent a significant portion of my life worrying about things that now feel hilariously unimportant.

Then cancer showed up.

Actually, that's not entirely accurate.

Cancer didn't just show up.

It moved in.

It brought luggage.

It made itself comfortable.

It ate all the snacks.

And suddenly my priorities underwent what experts would call a violent restructuring.

Now I worry about oxygen levels.

Scan results.

Blood counts.

Treatment plans.

Whether someone remembered to take their medication.

Whether insurance is about to deny something critical because Karen from Claims Department apparently woke up feeling adventurous.

The funny thing is that none of this made me a better person.

People love to pretend hardship creates wisdom.

Sometimes it does.

Sometimes it just creates perspective.

Which is different.

Perspective doesn't magically make you kinder or more enlightened.

It just changes the size of things.

Problems that once felt enormous start looking surprisingly small.

Not because they aren't real.

Because you've seen bigger.

Much bigger.

These days I still have insecurities.

I still have bad days.

I still occasionally convince myself my life is falling apart because of something ridiculous.

I'm human.

But when I catch myself spiraling over nonsense, there's a voice in the back of my head that quietly asks:

"Will this matter in six months?"

Most of the time the answer is no.

And that's oddly comforting.

Because life has a way of teaching you what matters.

Unfortunately, it tends to use a flamethrower.

Yours in chaos,

~Kari, The Feral Caregiver