Monday, January 6, 2014

Yesterday I laid in a MRI closing my eyes just knowing. I made lyrics to the sound of the banging, slamming, and beeps. Breathing, and knowing. And being okay with it. My tumor has began to grow again. I am feeling so many different things. My initial reaction is just, overwhelmed, and confused. But then I simply realized that since my diagnosis I have found myself, my meaning of life, that it's not the time spent on this earth but the way you live. I can easily say, my life is amazing. I choose to live happily. I woke up today, to my mom, my sister, my family, to Jared and that means the world to
 me. My oncologist will be meeting with several doctors to figure out the next step. Please hold those I love in your hearts. And don't forget to smile today, you woke up, and you're alive.
Blissful Dying 

Thursday, December 5, 2013


For so long I've called LACS my second home. A place that I can feel totally myself without being criticized about what I wear, what I look like and who I talk to. Never being judged about the person I am. Acs is middle school high school,  7 years with at least half of the same people you started out with. Looking around the halls now thinking "I was never that little when I first came here, right?" So much has changed. I've done self reflections on my process of becoming who I am today, maturing as a student and as a person. Though sometimes the road you take leads you to another. My road was ACS and spending days with friends. But when I was diagnosed my road completely changed, as if I had grown up in 24 hours. My past problems seemed so petty. Before I had thought I had all the time in the world, my years became minimal. That changed how I saw everything. It changed me. 
  Being grateful to be alive changes you. Being grateful that someone you love is alive can change you. My level is different then those in school, these are wonderful people. Each student can show who they are and be part of our school curriculum, which I take pride in. But when you know you don't have forever, sitting in a seat all day feels like torture. Getting half smiles and nervous looks like they are scared to be in my presence. Students are scared that they will say the wrong thing, so they choose to say nothing at all. My rocks are no longer here. And my heart is no longer in it. I love my school, and seeing facial expressions of others through the halls reminds me of how I used to feel. But I feel different, and this journey is way more complex then it once was. Time is of the essence. And feeling uncomfortable and overwhelmed with these feelings....well, I just don't have time for that. I am so happy I was diagnosed. It makes me who I am. LACS was so special to me. A place I will always hold in my heart. I will be taking fewer classes  and carry on my studies with Carol Teelin. A former teacher who is simply an amazing woman. 
I will not struggle with trying to make this feel normal. My normal has changed. And I'm am okay with that. 
Blissful Dying

Monday, November 18, 2013

Be Here Now
  Taking steps. I need a moment. I just want to slide to the floor for a minute. My family is my rock. They hold me up the moments I feel shaky. They are my solid ground. My doctors were so glad last week when I ended chemo, I guess I was and am excited that I will get poked once every two weeks rather then twice. The little things. I am glad that I won't need toxic medicine infused into my body. The big things. Though I am allowed to be scared. I am scared because there is now me, and the tumor and the cancer. But nothing to protect it. There isn't any more radiation to blast at my brain and no more chemo until further notice. Those are my fears. Through all of this though, I've learned that your fears can be real, but enjoying what you've got will make a world a difference. I choose my own path. And my path is to not dread for the inevitable but to live, truly live with what I have. I am only 16 but I have everything I could ever want, or need. I am lucky. This is the life I was given and there's nothing to do but love it. So I slide up from the floor, and I breathe. I breathe for my life, I breathe for those who are now in the great beyond, who fought this fight. I am breathing for you. Taking steps.

I am here, now.

  Blissful Dying

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Dancing to Donna 

Listening to Donnas sweet Melodic voice was my sound track as I started falling. It still seems to be. Because that was the first time Jared held me tight, as we spent our time dancing in the middle of a huge crowd. It was as if I had known him forever. Some how it all seemed so familiar. Jared is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Though our relationship is very different from others. We share a deep love of life and are one another's rocks. We share our sadness, our losses, and fears, but we too share our wishes and our dreams of our futures. There will never be a lack of love between us. I have never felt so loved in my entire life. As I go through this journey of the unknown, he's right next to me. Summer rain, falls over us. But we aren't complaining. A chilling rain but warm hearts. The embrace of someone you love can make you feel infinite. Love is in fact the best medicine. I am alive. I am here, and I'm with you.
Blissful Dying

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

In The Rainstorm 

We are wrapped in life.  Somehow each day, we get somewhere, and each day we are further along the road we choose to travel. I compromise my road though. My length of time in my physical body on this earth has been shortened.  Just as I thought my world was falling apart, those that surround me became my Mother, My sister, myself and my families safety net. My name is Leyla. In August 2012 I was diagnosed with a inoperable Glioblastoma. Glioblastomas are  re occurring Brain Tumors. The deadliest. It can take losses for some to see how much you take for granted. I do not have control over my body. I do not have control over how long I am physically here on this planet. When my sister says "are you going to die ley?" All my mom and I can says is "we just don't know Opal"  Part of this is me sharing with you my deep and intense life. And as if this seemed like the worst luck had hovered over me, it turned into something so incredible. So I stand here, in this rainstorm. But somehow the sunshine still finds a way to warm my skin. No rain storm can take away my love of life. My diagnosis has given me a deeper knowing. Something tells me that something good will come out of this. This in fact has been a gift to me. Over this past year I have been able to find who I really am. And why I was placed here. This blog is to share with you my hardships and my small victories. And to show you that maybe, just maybe by the end of these posts, you can stand in the rain and still feel the sun.
Sending love,
Blissful Dying