How is it just one month? I can’t even say it without a deep sense of mourning for a time when I wasn’t dealing with it all. Just one month ago.

To reflect on what’s happened in that time is both tragic and beautiful. Life has once again changed dramatically, more than any other point in my life and left me desperately trying to function on a depleting tank. But I’ve also witnessed the most magical power of community, as it stands we have raised 70% of my target in less than 2 weeks with so many people from across the world that have never met me, donating because they care about someone in need. And then of course what my incredible 7 year old daughter is capable of. Running a full-length marathon over 7 days as part of her own efforts to help with the fundraising. How could that not be the most beautiful thing for a parent to see.

But I’ve felt the most scared I’ve ever felt too. I still do. The fatigue and headaches from treatment and possibly symptoms of the cancer itself are getting worse and starting to impact on my ability to just keep going as I was.

It’s no surprise but it’s something I struggle deeply with psychologically. My biggest fear is not death itself, but what comes before it. I’m unbelievably terrified of what my cancer can affect, of which the list is endless. Your brain controls everything and as one of my doctors explained, this tumour is so far deep into my brain that it’s now touching so much too.

So yes I’ve broken down over this month and thought is there any point? I’ve had raw conversations with myself where I’ve allowed the terrified child in me to say everything that I wanted to ignore and put into the box of ‘let’s not think like that’.

I needed to let them speak and be heard but then I’ve held that child and assured them that we just need to do what we need day by day. Some days that means surrendering to the fatigue and letting other people step in while I rest. Some days it’s just acknowledging that I need to make the time to just listen to my body, to myself and some days it’s allowing myself to have the normality of working on things I love and letting the playful side be free to do whatever it wants.

I would love to know that one day the balance will tip back to knowing I can just get on with everyday as normal. The fear of not knowing if that will ever happen is extremely hard to deal with but day by day is my new reality for now at least. I still need to fully accept that but while I’m still able to actually have a balance, that in itself is something to be very, very grateful for and the hope is still strong so there’s plenty to still plenty to dance about.