What "Survive and Live" Means to Me

By Cee Cee Mcgriff

When I think about the phrase "Survive and Live," I think about how long it took me to understand that those two things could coexist. For me, surviving meant being strong, pushing through, andnever letting anyone see me break. Living, on the other hand, felt like a luxury I couldn't afford.

I was a single mother of two when I got my first breast cancer diagnosis. There was no space for fear. No room for weakness. I wasn't going to be anyone's "patient," and don't even call me a"survivor." I refused to sit in the waiting room with the people I labeled as "sick" because I couldn't bring myself to accept that I was one of them.

Looking back now, I realize I missed out on so much support--things that could've made that seasonof life a lot more manageable. But I was too focused on appearing in control. I wanted to seem fearless, like I had it all together. But the truth is... I was in survival mode. I wasn't processing the trauma. I wasn't letting myself feel anything.

And then--more than ten years later--cancer came back. This time in my other breast. I had just buried my mother and was still deep in grief, still trying to process that loss. I was emotionally exhausted. So I didn't do research, didn't ask questions--I just made a fast decision: double mastectomy. My breasts, both of them, were amputated.

If there was ever a moment to ask for help, it was then. But I couldn't. I still couldn't.

It wasn't until after chemo and radiation--when the doctors told me I was finally "okay"--that I hit a wall. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually. I started spiraling, and my oncologist saw the signs. I got on the phone with a counselor and cried like a baby. It was the first time I let it all out. I was prescribed medication, joined cancer support groups, and slowly... I started to feel better.

Now I know the truth.

Living means being vulnerable enough to ask for help.

Living means acknowledging fear and still choosing to move forward.

Living means letting go of the mask.

I can survive and live at the same time.