The mental health effects that being diagnosed with Lung Cancer (really any diagnosis) comes with. Like millions of other people in this world I have been diagnosed with depression in the past. My childhood was a happy one, I don’t recall being depressed or having anxiety. I do remember after my dad passed away when I was 16 I received my first diagnosis. Throughout college I struggled and saw a counselor.
After college I was off and on antidepressants and seeing a therapist. When things were good I didn’t see one. It took me awhile before I found my right person. Something to know is I am not one to burden others with my problems. So seeing a therapist is hard for me.
After I had Trent I tried to hold everything together. This was supposed to be the happiest time for me. Things were incredible. But I didn’t feel right. I remember I held it in and didn’t tell anyone. Until one day I was getting ready to go out with a friend and broke down. She convinced me that I needed to see someone and took me to the ob’s office to start the conversation. At this point I was diagnosed with PPD. I feel like I overcame it. Talked with my therapist and did what I needed to do to get in a better place. With Baelor I was proactive I started counseling before I had him, I had a plan to get on meds right after I had him. But that didn’t stop the feelings: depression, anxiety and paranoia. The thing is Baelor didn’t sleep-in the middle of the night I would cry and cry. Again I was able to work through this and talk with my counselor.
Five years later I was feeling great. My life was in a good place. I had a great job, I didn’t feel like someone was depending on me 24/7, my marriage was great. Then January 13th came along. A Friday night that changed my life, that sent me into a deep depression and severe anxiety. I mean honestly who wouldn‘t have depression and anxiety after this diagnosis. I asked for medication, I reached out to my therapist and started seeing a counselor at my oncologist office.
A year into my diagnosis I still struggle. People ask how am I holding up and I wonder do they really want to know or are they just being polite-so my standard answer is as best as I can be. But the truth is I struggle everyday. I struggle knowing the financial burden I am putting on my family, I struggle with worry about the end result and how my family will be. I struggle knowing that I live my life in three month intervals waiting to hear the words stable. I struggle knowing that I can’t change this or fix it. I struggle knowing that my patience is short and sometimes I just want to drive in silence but Baelor has so much to say. I struggle with what people think because I don’t look sick. I cry, I cry when I’m alone in the car, I cry to Bryan when I am scared. I try not to let the kids see me cry but sometimes they do. i Struggle not to complain when I feel like garbage everyday.
I know I am no different from the rest of the world who have been diagnosed with cancer or depression or anxiety. But there are so many times that I feel alone and that I am the only one.
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