Sorry for the sheer length of the post. I didn't expect to write a novella but a lot has happened this year and it helps to talk/think about it in detail. TL;DR cancer sucks but life is worth it, people can be shitty but redeemable, and there's no shame in admitting that you're weak and need help.

Some context to start. I was emotionally and mentally abused as a child by my father. For years I carried around a sense of shame and guilt that I didn't deserve to carry because I was made to feel like I was never good enough. More than that, after how my father treated me I felt like I could never trust somebody enough to be my true self; they'd only hurt me if I did. Because of all these things I've never been in a relationship with anyone nor have I had sex.

I finally made peace with what my dad did this March after an LSD fueled discussion about trauma with friends broke down my mental barriers. Then in July I learned to finally love myself and life after climbing a mountain and eating some hallucinogenic mushrooms on a camping trip. I was ready to take the world by storm. For the first time since I was 8, I was unabashedly myself and confident for once that things would turn out alright. On the same trip I had a friend with some medical experience take a look at my testicle as it had recently started growing in size, doubling or tripling from normal. He told me to go see a doctor and 2 days before my 24th birthday I was diagnosed with testicular cancer.

Around the same time I was introduced to a good friend's niece. She was 20, I had now turned 24, and everyone was pushing us to get together because we looked cute together. She was recently coming out of a 3 year long-distance relationship that turned sour, so I gave her the space she needed while showing her that I cared. Soon we began to warm up to each other and she revealed that she too was a victim of child abuse, and that nobody in her family could know because the sheer magnitude of it would tear the family apart. She claimed to have since gotten over what happened to her but she still made me promise never to tell her aunt, so I promised her. Everyone has to deal with trauma at their own pace. Still, we bonded over our shitty, abusive dads and as the weeks went by we started talking daily, sometimes upwards to 5-6 hours at a time. When we would get together for D&D at her aunt's place we would flirt with each other. The way she would look into my eyes still gets to me even now. I'd try to kiss her, she would turn away but express wanting to, usual stuff seeing as she was having issues with self-esteem from the breakup. At the time, with my newfound confidence in myself, I took this a sign that she really liked me, and I started to fall in love with her. In retrospect, having to face my mortality also played a role as I saw this as a golden opportunity to finally have a loving, romantic relationship: something to look forward to after kicking cancer's ass.

During this time I was, as previously stated, kicking cancer's ass. I caught it fairly early on in Stage 1 and they removed my testicle 2 days after my birthday. I had to withdraw from classes at my university to recover from surgery while I figured out where and when I would do chemo. Then, she came clean. She never felt anything for me, she merely strung me along for her own emotional validation. She told me that she often tries to fix people from their trauma because she can't fix herself, and since I had gotten over mine and she was jealous/confused as to how, she decided to use me for what she could. I "made it so easy for her," simply because I was finally being myself. I was beyond hurt, and I started feeling a level of pain, anger, fear, and sadness that I hadn't felt since I lived my dad. My greatest fear had come true: I let someone in and they immediately used me and hurt me. I let the feelings rule my being; the pain was too intoxicating to ignore. I had to drive hours away to a sperm bank due to chemo sterility risk and while there I did something I wasn't proud of. I don't want to go into detail but let's just say if you've seen End of Evangelion, you'll understand the significance of the line "I'm so fucked up." I said that verbatim, immediately recognized the parallels, and freaked out. I drove to find a quiet beach to stare off into the ocean and think; instead I found an old star fort built before the American Revolution. I thought about what I did and the pain I was feeling, my cries echoing through the dark tunnels of the fort.

I realized I needed to reach out to friends for help, I needed to lose this veil of pain that had come over me. The same friend who looked at my testicle drove across the state to pick me up. Along the way I told him and his girlfriend (also my friend) what had happened. They told me it was okay, that what I did wasn't me, that I was just in pain and was desperate to feel relief. They also said I needed to talk to her aunt, tell her everything, even about the abuse. It was clear to them and me that she hadn't gotten over her abuse and that I needed to tell her aunt to ensure she didn't do this to anyone ever again, especially after she admitted to having harmed others in the past and not felt remorse. Besides, she already bullshitted me, what was to say her trauma wasn't also fabricated? I didn't want to, after all I made a promise but I had to free myself. I realized I had to care for her aunt now, not her. Days later I finally discussed things with her aunt and it was rough. I even told her about the sperm bank, thinking she'd be disgusted. Instead she embraced me and told me everything would be okay, that she was sorry one of her kin could do this to me, and she assured me I had done the right thing by coming to her. A week later she confronted her niece about what she'd done to me and some parts of her trauma. After a quick back and forth over text we went our separate ways. She expressed remorse for what she did to me, expressed wanting to help me, but also viewed any attempt to do so as being a selfish thing to do on her part. She wanted me to hate her and at the time I did.

Fast forward three weeks and I'm day 4 into my first week of chemo. It was a whole new level of pain that I wouldn't wish upon anyone. While sitting there I took a nap and had a vivid dream. I was sitting in my chair, IVs plugged into my PICC line, but the private cubicle had become a white room. I looked around, asking if anyone was there. She responded with "Is this what you we're afraid of all along: being lonely, even after facing the possibility of death?" "Yes," I replied, "but I realize now that I never needed you, nor did you deserve me." As I cried in my dream I hear my friend say "Hey man, it's alright because I'm here for you." Then one by one, my friends and family and everyone that cares about me start to digitize into the room and say "And I'm here for you." At the end of this I'm crying as I feel someone hold my hand, and I hear a strange yet familiar voice say "And even if nobody else was here for you or believed in you, I'll always be here." I looked up to see a 40 something year old me. I woke up crying and I was asked if I was alright. I told the nurses I was never better. From then on chemo got easier and I thankfully only had to go for one cycle.

The next day I decided I'd reach out to her, I was ready to forgive her. I saw an unread message that included "I want to be half the person you are before I die." What did she mean? I'm a mess, I wouldn't want anyone to be a quarter of the person I am. I reached out to her, told her I was ready to forgive her, and that I wanted to meet one last time sometime after chemo to talk about things. If we decided to stay in contact, that would be on us. She agreed, saying I deserve the closure, and toward the end of October we met up. A friend of mine came along because she was concerned and wanted to make sure someone could pull me out if I became distressed. We met up in a McDonald's and I told her everything that happened, how much pain she caused me to be in, including the sperm bank incident. She couldn't look at me, she was ashamed, and she kept apologizing to me. She was stunned to hear the extent of her abuse I told her aunt, as I thought her aunt had already confronted her about everything (she hadn't). I then decided to throw ethics out the window, and confronted her about her trauma, that she needed to address things before she hurt others like she had me. She assured me that she wanted to change, that she'd never do anything like that again, that she wanted to be better for herself and others. She then broke down, claimed that she was weak and will always be weak, that she'll never be out from under her dad's thumb. I told her she was wrong, she was braver than she could imagine. She wondered how I got over my trauma, and I explained to her that it took me forever to realize that I was the one that held the key and that only I could free myself from my shackles. I told her she had the same potential, that even if she couldn't fit the key in because her hands were shaky, there was no harm in asking for help to straighten her hands. I told her I still believed in her after everything she'd done, and with her aunt knowing everything and only wanting to help her that there was no longer any harm in talking to her aunt. She agreed, and promised me she would talk to her aunt ASAP. Before we parted ways we hugged for about 3 minutes straight, crying into each other the entire time. I promised I'd always be there for her as a friend, even if she felt like she didn't deserve it. Later that night her aunt texted me telling me that she did actually open up to her; she apologized for hurting me so deeply and went into deeper detail her trauma. Her aunt thanked me and she felt this progress wouldn't have been possible without me. I told her not to thank me, all I did was help her niece realize that she had the power all along to stay a victim or become her own liberator.

Since everything happened I'm still struggling to trust people again. Between what she did and chemo my brain feels reset, and I've had problems remaining optimistic about life. Even after becoming 100% cancer free, the stress of having to deal with my freshly hurt mind and mounting medical bills have made life difficult to bear. As stupid as it may sound, at times I wish cancer would've taken my life. But I'm still here and I refuse to give up. A few day ago I admitted to myself that I needed help and recently went to my first therapy session. It may be a long road, but we all deserve a chance to feel whole, to feel like life is worth it. And whenever I think about how shit life has been and could still be, I look back at when I rang the Hope bell signifying that I was cancer free. When asked if I had any final words I said "Life is worth it." Those words ring true and I'm determined to make that middle-aged me proud. If you made it this far, thank you for listening to me.