A year ago, I thought I was going to die. My breast cancer diagnosis shattered my sense of security and control over my life. I spent those awful first days feeling utterly overwhelmed and afraid. It took a while until I could really get focused how best to face the greatest physical and mental challenge of my life.

And now it's been a year since I heard those words, "You have cancer." The words that once caused such fear are now simply a part of my life. You do get used to living with cancer and you go back to living. My life gets a bit more normal with each day.

I approach this anniversary with a bit of anxiety and a lot of hope. My doctors have assured me I have an excellent chance of beating this disease. Sadly, there are no guarantees. Cancer can and does return. And that's where the anxiety of being a survivor comes to play.

My biggest physical challenges of the year are behind me, but mental challenges remain. It can be a struggle to keep the dark thoughts at bay and focus on moving beyond cancer. I feel encouraged hearing stories of survival, but struggle when people share their painful stories of loss. My psyche is fragile and I simply have to protect it. Sometimes a particularly sad breast cancer story will send me into a funk for days. I no longer read the obituaries and have not since last December. It's just part of how I cope.

My oncologist told me one patient considers her anniversary date her own Sept. 11. The magnitude of that day far exceeds one person's cancer diagnosis, but the analogy focuses on the loss of innocence, the loss of security. After battling cancer, you no longer take good health for granted. You no longer assume you will live a long life.

I definitely take better care of myself these days. My eating habits in the past were always a family joke. I was addicted to junk food. I loved French fries, fast food and sweets. I'm now trying to eat healthier. I hated exercise, but now go to the gym several times a week. I'm trying to keep my stress more manageable.

I want my body to last a lot longer and am now willing to do more to make that happen. My kids deserve my best effort.

Last Christmas, my kids' joy was the bright light on the darkest days of my life. This Christmas, my heart literally feels lighter in my body. Brendan and I now have hope that we can all have many happy times together.

This year, I received my Christmas gifts early in the form of overwhelming and humbling support from my family, friends, coworkers and you, our viewers. Thank you. It has been a feeling like no other. I also had excellent care from dedicated doctors and nurses at two amazing Boston hospitals. I have met medical professionals who have seemingly limitless gifts for caring and healing. Like many patients, I'm grateful for the support I received from the Ellie Fund and the Wellness Community.

I know not everyone has the same experience I did. So as I move beyond my personal struggles, I remain committed to helping those who come after me.

I think back to what Dr. Hope Ricciotti told me after I was diagnosed. "You will survive this. I can't guarantee it, but you have to believe that." I had trouble feeling hopeful last year, but this year it's getting a bit easier each day.

We all have struggles and challenges in our lives. I thank you for supporting me this year and pray you have many reasons for hope this holiday season.