The Cancer is Gone - Bring on the Depression

This picture is of me right after I found out that I was NED. I did not think I could be any happier. And then I went home, and in the coming days became depressed. I was crying at the drop of a hat, paralyzed by fear that the cancer wasn't really gone, or that it would come back. And I stayed that way for a good long while.
The truth is, fear still lives in the back of my mind. Cancer does not have a cure. The best any of us can hope for at this point in time is that treatment removes the deadly cells, and that they stay gone. But it's not so easy to have faith that that will be the way.
In two years, I will be out of the "danger zone," the time frame most likely for my cancer to recur. Does that mean that if I make it to two years with no evidence of disease in my body that I will be cancer free forever? Of course not.
I had no idea why I became so depressed after getting the all clear. I should have been jumping up and down, throwing the biggest party ever. Instead, I would lay in my bed, weep, and worry obsessively. I have learned that this is completely normal. During treatment, you are doing everything medically possible to rid your body of cancer. Then treatment ends, and it's like, "Now what?" You aren't actively doing anything any more to keep the cancer away. You have to have faith that you have done enough.
Faith and cancer do not go hand in hand. For the most part, no one expects to get cancer. Sure, there are high risk lifestyles that make it more likely, but it's still a slap in the face when the diagnosis comes down. My body betrayed me. God betrayed me. I was completely powerless. I had to make a choice: do I live in fear, or do I treasure every day that I have, with as little worry as possible for what other things I could have done and not being consumed with fear by what could happen in the future.
My life is a gift, and cancer showed me that. I WANT TO LIVE. And I will do whatever it takes to make sure I live a long, healthy, happy life.
And these days, when I wake up, I make a conscious choice to be present, to live in the moment, to trust that God is guiding me on the path I am meant to take. I am not perfect at this, by any means. I still cry. I still worry. But that happens less and less.
I am lucky. My body is healthy, and growing stronger by the day. And I am a survivor.