Never Going Back Again

The Fleetwood Mac concert experience still resonates as I go about my altered life. The refrain, "never going back again," sings to me.
So much of living with cancer and its treatment is processing, trying to make sense of why this is happening.
Is this really happening?
When I was initially diagnosed, I couldn't sleep, my brain churning out thoughts, trying to make sense, find balance, invent a solution, brace myself. Alcohol helped, but not much. I'd stepped onto an eerie path. The door closed and locked behind me. You cannot see the next step, only hope that it is there. It's this uncertain landscape that redefines my humanity.
This is where they keep the epiphanies.
I'll never be the Debra that I was before this happened.
While playing with the dogs, watching the birds at the feeder or looking for the first crocus, I am with her, but she is fading, her edges less defined.
Will I like this woman who waits for me at the end of this journey?
(pictured: Salvadore Dali's "Woman at the Window")