Talking Back to Depression

                  Depression brings with it many difficulties.  One difficulty that can be particularly troublesome is negative thoughts.  I have struggled with negative thoughts my whole life.  The depression takes control, and it tells me things that are either not true or are overexaggerated.  These negative thoughts can easily take control and put me in a tailspin.  The tailspin can lead to suicidal thoughts, which then puts me in crisis.  I know I am not alone in this process.  People with depression struggle with negative thought patterns.  We need strategies to stop these thoughts.  

                  Over the years I have had a lot of help learning how to tell the thoughts to stop or to talk back to the thoughts.  Therapy has played a key role in teaching me these strategies.  I have learned these strategies from each of the members of my mental health team.  I am not perfect at using them.  Knowing the strategies is not enough.  They must be utilized in time to avoid a downward spiral.  I would like to share some of the ways I talk back to the negative, depression-fueled thoughts.  I would caution you that this is just what I have tried.  Sometimes I still struggle with it.  Depression is an illness.  It doesn’t just go away because we tell it to or because we want it to.  It requires constant effort.  Sometimes there will be failure.  That is okay.  As with any illness, depression requires constant care.  If one of these phrases doesn’t work, try another.  Remember there will be times when you need to reach for support either from loved ones or mental health professionals.  That is okay.  I can’t stress this enough.  It is okay to reach out when you are struggling.  

                  My go-to word when I notice the negative thoughts is simply, “stop”.  I say it in my head.  I try to tell the thought to stop.  I don’t try to argue with it or persuade it to be different.  I simply say “stop”.  This is an interruption strategy.  I am trying to interrupt the negative thought to get it to stop.  This is most effective if I catch the thought early.  When this works, I then try to replace the thought with something more positive or at least something neutral.  

                  The single word “stop” is sometimes not enough.   This is when I try to tell my thoughts that I know it is the depression talking and I am not going to listen.  This is a little harder than just saying “stop”.  I find myself saying something like, “I hear you telling me that life isn’t worth it, but I am not going to listen this time.”  I usually need to repeat it a few times to get the message across.  Sometimes I pair it with the word “stop.”  I may repeat that I am not listening.  At times I say, “Depression, I know you are trying to take control, but I am not going to allow that to happen.”  This is by no means easy.  It is often frustrating.  The voice of depression is loud.  It is also strong.  

                  Another phrase I use in my head is “Hey, Depression, I know you want control, but I can’t let you have control.  This is my life.”  I know it sounds strange to have conversations in my head. I am not talking out loud.  These are my thoughts talking back to the depression in my head.  It is a strategy that can be employed when the thoughts get strong.

                  When these phrases don’t work, I try writing.  If I can write my thoughts in my journal or on my computer, I can give them a sense of control.  I can also get the negative thoughts out of my head and make them concrete.  Sometimes just getting them out on paper is enough for me.  Other times I need to share what I have written with someone.  I usually share these written thoughts with one of the members of my mental health team.  If this strategy sounds good to you, know that you could also share your written words with a trusted loved one.  However, if the thoughts turn suicidal, I would recommend reaching out to a mental health professional.

                  There are times when talking back and writing are not enough.  Remember, depression is an illness.  It can vary in its strength from day to day or even moment to moment.  Another strategy I try is distraction.  For me music is a solid distractor.  When I am listening to music to distract myself from depression’s voice, I focus on listening to the lyrics.  Usually, I choose songs that I know resonate with me.  If I can get my mind to focus on the words of the song, those words can replace the thoughts in my head.  When I use this strategy, I like to lie in bed and close my eyes.  Other times I listen to the music while walking in my neighborhood.  I only do this when I feel safe enough to leave my house.  If the thoughts are too overwhelming or they are getting into that suicidal territory, I prefer to keep myself in my bedroom, where I have established a safe zone.  

                  Depression is often a solitary illness.  There is a lot of aloneness to it.  Despite this, it is important to remember that depression cannot be defeated alone.  So, when the thoughts get to be too much for me to handle on my own, I know I need to reach out.  For example, if I am having thoughts of hurting myself and they don’t respond to my initial attempt to stop them, I know I need help.  It is at this point that I will call my psychologist and leave him a voicemail, which I know he will receive because we have talked about this as a safety plan.  Depending on your situation, you might want to reach out to your mental health provider, a loved one, or to the 988 helpline. If the person you plan to reach out to is a loved one, you should create a plan in advance that lets the person know how to respond.  A simple safety plan might include what that person should ask you or say to you and who he or she should contact if necessary.  The plan should also include an explanation of when the person needs to reach out for professional help.  I have a plan and have shared it with the people in my life, who I would reach out to in if the self-harm or suicidal thoughts are in control.  

Reaching out is a sign of strength.  It took me a long time to realize that.  It is a lesson I needed to learn.  Often when we suffer with depression, we believe no one else understands.  To some extent it is true that people who don’t live with depression don’t understand, but that doesn’t mean they don’t want to understand or that they aren’t willing to help.  That is perhaps one of the greatest lessons I’ve learned in recent years.  Even in our darkest moment, those moments where the depression has taken complete control, there are ways to get help.  I encourage you to make plans for these times when you are not in the midst of depression’s stranglehold.  Discuss it with someone when you are in a place where things aren’t as bad.  This will allow you to have a plan for those darkest moments.  On the other side of the darkness, you will be glad you had a plan. 

Living with the thoughts depression creates is never going to be easy.  We need to make plans.  Think of it as a prescription for living with depression.  Not all prescriptions are for medication.  Knowing how to talk to depression and how to reach out are important parts of our treatment.  You might need to practice talking back to your thoughts with a mental health professional.  That is okay.  It is normal.  Your provider will understand and will help you.  Don’t allow depression to gain complete control.  Make a plan for dealing with the varying stages of the illness.  Ask for help.  Depression is an awful illness, but we can fight back.

I will leave you with this thought.  Depression is an awful illness, but it is one we can fight when we make plans and have strategies for dealing with it.  I encourage you to talk to your loved ones and mental health professionals about how you will talk back to depression and how you will reach out when necessary.

 

 

Reflecting on Wonderful Moments in Our Lives

                  Aware that my last two posts have been heavy, I was thinking that I wanted to write something lighter.  I just didn’t know what I wanted to write about.  The lighter topics are harder for me to write because so often the darkness of my illnesses take center stage. 

                  On Saturday night I was able to do one of my favorite things for the first time since my cancer diagnosis.  I was able to go to a concert.  To ensure I protected my health, I wore a mask.  Listening to live music has always been healing for me.  Of course, if I was going to venture out to a concert it had to be my favorite band, Styx.  I don’t want to ramble on about the concert.  I will just say that it improved my mood, and I loved it.  There was a three to four-minute time in the concert that I want to share.  

                  A song really struck me.  It is one of their newer songs and while I have heard the song before, I don’t think I have ever heard them play it live.  The title of the song is “Our Wonderful Lives”, and it was written by Tommy Shaw.  The words of the song hit me as both a cancer patient and a person with depression.  I have been in a really dark place the last couple of weeks.  My depression has been in control of my life and prevented me from seeing any positives in my life.  I have been consumed by the negative.  That is something that is common when you are fighting illnesses, especially depression.  It is difficult to cope with these feelings. 

                  The opening lines of the song hit me. “It’s a brand new day and I’m tired of the uncertain. I’m throwing back the curtain for some sun on my face.” As Tommy Shaw sang these words, I was struck by the idea of each day being new.  Things have been uncertain for me.  I have faced uncertainty because my health insurance was canceled, and I am afraid of losing my healthcare team.  Uncertainty has surfaced with my depression in the sense that when the darkness gets as bad as it has been, I don’t know if I will pull through it.  Just as the song says, “I’m tired of the uncertain.”  When uncertainty is shrouded in darkness it becomes very difficult to live with.  I want it to just end.  

                  I often describe the times of healing as light.  I heard the light’s presence in the song.  “I’m throwing back the curtain for some sun on my face.”   As I heard these words sung at the concert, I realized I need to “throw back that curtain.”  In my mind he was singing about the light of healing.  I felt it fill me.  I realized that I need to search for the “sun”.  If I can “throw back the curtain” of depression and the mental effects of cancer, I can find healing.  I don’t mean to oversimplify it.  Looking for that sunlight is hard.  I am very aware that I can’t always do it on my own.  Sometimes I can open the curtain on my own.  Other times I need help.  That is a part of having illnesses.  Accepting help is crucial to finding the sun’s light.  

                  There is another part of the song that reminded me that there are wonderful things in my life even when I struggle to see them.  The song continues, “While the dark clouds hover nearby, we won’t give in yet. We shall not forget. We still have our wonderful lives.”  Wow!  Those words hit me during the concert.  It was as if the band was playing directly to me.  The dark clouds of depression and cancer are always nearby.  Despite that I have managed to keep trying to overcome my illnesses.  I haven’t given in yet.  I keep fighting even though the darkness is always nearby.

                  Just as important, there are “wonderful” things and people in my life.  Sometimes we don’t see the wonderful life that surrounds us.  We lose sight because the darkness of our illnesses can be so deep.  This song made me realize that there are many wonderful people and things in my life.  I have family members and friends who have helped me.  I have my health care team, both mental and physical, who are always by my side, lifting me up into the light.  I have my writing.  This blog, my journal, and the book I am writing all lift my mood and separate me from the darkness.  I have my art.  While I am not the best painter, I find joy in painting.  I have music.  Styx made me more aware of that Saturday night.  The words of a song threw back the curtain for me.           

                  When I need to remember that each day is a “brand new day”, I will listen to this song.  I will let it remind me that I haven’t given in to the darkness.  Even though it will be hard, I will try to focus some of my attention on the wonderful things in my life.  I realize that this is all easy for me to write here.  Doing it will be harder.  That difficulty is part of the territory with depression.  The darkness is often in charge.  It takes effort to see the sun’s light.  Healing is not a solitary process.   I need to remember that I have wonderful people I can reach out to when I need help.  There might be times when I need someone else to throw back the curtain for me.  Other times just reminding me to do it myself might be enough.  

The sun comes up each morning after the darkness of the night.  I need to convince myself that even though there are dark clouds in my life, there is also light.  A song brought me some insight into myself.  That is why I love live music.  This is not the first time a song has brought me healing.  I think that means I need to keep listening.  

Experiencing a Sense of Loss with Depression

                  Depression carries with it a lot of difficulties.  Over the years I have experienced most if not all of them.  One difficulty that surfaces with depression is a sense of loss.  This sense of loss can make the darkness of depression worse.  The loss does not have to be a physical loss, although it can be.  

For me the sense of loss stems from all the depression has taken away from me.  I am very aware of all that I have missed out on in life because of my depression.  On an everyday level, I have often stayed home or hid under the covers in bed to avoid letting others see my depression.  Often, I have said no to invitations to spend time with friends or family because the darkness is too much for me to cope with in the moment.  I have spent many days and evenings alone hiding my depression.  I miss out on fun times.  I miss out events and experiences.  The depression tells me I am not well enough to join in activities with others.  Sometimes it tells me I don’t deserve to join in with others.  When the depression talks to me like this, I find myself staring at the walls in my house. I tell myself that I am safest at home alone.  I shed tears.  I question why my world is so dark.  Sometimes I wish I could be like friends and family who seem to be enjoying life.  The experiences I have lost are gone for good.  I can’t go back and relive moments missed throughout my life.  That’s where the sense of loss stems from.  I have lost experiences. 

Another loss I have experienced is the loss of potential relationships.  I never wanted to spread my depression or let it impact others.  This desire led me to avoid seeking relationships.  It has been decades since I have gone on a date.  I never gave myself the opportunity to meet someone I could share my life with because I feared no one would understand my depression.  It was my way of protecting myself, but looking back on it, I probably hurt myself more.  I also prevented others from knowing me on a deeper level.  I lost potential relationships.  I lost the opportunity to have a life partner.  I never gave myself a chance to have a family because I didn’t want to pass the depression on.  Sometimes I find myself grieving that loss.  I know it is too late for me to have children.  That is one of my regrets.  Depression caused me to miss out on a family life.  

The sense of loss depression created in my life hurts.  I don’t talk about it much because I fear others won’t understand.  That is the voice of depression talking.  It tells me to keep my pain to myself.  Depression is jealous. It does not want me to reach out to others.  Depression wants to be in complete control.  I have lost so much because depression is a thief.  

If my depression hadn’t forced me to miss so many days of work, I would not be worrying as much now that I have cancer.  I would have sick days left to use.  Unfortunately, depression stole those, too.  As a result, I am facing some difficult choices that affect my physical health and my well-being. Again, depression has created a loss in my life.

I am also facing a possible loss that has triggered my depression to take me to a very dark level.  I am losing my health insurance. I fear I won’t be able to make the right decisions to maintain my level of care.  I fear losing the people who mean so much to me: my mental health team and my physical health team.  This sense of loss has invaded my thoughts.  The worry has been overtaken by anxiety and the depression, which makes it difficult for me to cope.  My depression tells me I can’t tell them how much I fear losing them.  There is nothing they can do to prevent it.  I must take care of it on my own.  The sense of loss is present again.  I have lost my ability to think and process information smoothly.  Some of that is from the chemotherapy, but a lot of it stems from my mental illness overtaking my brain.  This sense of loss leaves me overwhelmed. Depression is present as I fear this loss.  It tells me things I shouldn’t listen to.  It drags me into the darkness.  I am afraid I won’t climb back out of this darkness.  

I know I am not alone.  There are many people who experience loss because of depression.  Maybe someone reading this post has felt the sting of loss because of depression.  I write about it not because I want sympathy, but because I want to bring awareness to this aspect of depression.  I want others who suffer from depression to know they are not alone.  I want to encourage people to discuss loss and to discuss depression.  An open dialogue will help us deal with the sense of loss created by depression.  For my part, I am going to try to bring it up in therapy.  I realize I need to talk about this sense of loss.  I need to process how it is affecting me.  Just like with any aspect of depression, the sense of loss cannot be faced alone.  To heal, we need to have discussions.  We need to know we are not alone.  If you are experiencing a sense of loss because of depression, I invite you to reach out in the comments section of this post or reach out to a mental health provider.  There is a lot to discuss.  I know I can’t do it alone and I need to reach out.  If this sense of loss is familiar to you, reach out in whatever way feels comfortable to you.  

 

Struggling with My Illnesses

                 I am having a rough time.  I don’t feel well.  In the past not feeling well physically would not be a problem.  I would have just taken an over-the-counter remedy and moved on with my day.  Now, I can no longer do that.  My head, or rather my anxiety, won’t allow me that luxury.  Cancer changed my world in so many ways.  It has required me to relearn how to live.  I have learned to fight a terrible illness.  Cancer has made me more vulnerable both physically and mentally.  As a result, I have learned to accept help.  I now understand that my life has worth.  Those are just a few of the lessons I have learned on this journey.

                  What hasn’t changed is the control anxiety has over me.  The anxiety has increased in some ways.  The last several days my stomach has been upset and I have been somewhat nauseous.  I also have pain in my abdomen near my liver.  This is the same way I felt right before I was diagnosed with cancer.  So, of course my anxiety has latched onto that fact.  I know Dr. St, my oncologist, who I really do trust, has said the liver pain is not likely to be more tumors.  She examined me just last week.  My bloodwork is good.  She has explained all of this to me.  On an intellectual level, I believe her.  I can understand that she is right.  I know I have a pet scan coming up that will likely confirm what she has already told me.  Still, with every twinge of pain and every second of an upset stomach, my anxiety screams in my head.  It tells me the cancer is spreading.  

                  I find myself trying to believe my doctor. I know she is right, but still, I am anxious. I can reach out to my mental health team, to my oncology team, to my primary care provider and her nurse, to Aunt Holly, and to other family and friends.  The problem is none of them have had cancer.  As well-meaning as they are, they have never experienced what I am going through.  Part of me says that shouldn’t matter, but on some level that I don’t understand, it does matter.  Not only do I have cancer, but I also have depression and anxiety disorders.  Each of these three illnesses is difficult enough on its own.  Combined they are hell.  

The anxiety triggers the depression and vice versa.  Worrying about the cancer triggers both the depression and the anxiety.  Not feeling well physically is picked up by my mind, which jumps in and makes me feel worse.  I hate this. 

                  The nurse practitioner in my oncologist’s office called me last week.  She told me how to handle my upset stomach.  I am trying to follow her directions, but my mind wants immediate results.  That is not going to happen.  As I write this, my mind is questioning why the antacids I took ten minutes ago aren’t working.  Of course, I need to give them time.  I know that, but the anxiety that fills my mind tells me it is not going to work.  

                  The worst part is that I have not yet gone to bed.  That is when my mind loves to attack me.  As I lie in bed, I feel the pain over my liver.  My mind shrieks, “More tumors!”  Even though, Dr. St has assured me that is not the case, my mind’s argument is compelling.  I try to replay Dr. St’s words over and over in mind.  I focus my thoughts on hearing her voice.  Despite my efforts, I struggle.  

                  This is the part of being sick that doesn’t get as much attention.  The mind games. I know it happens to some degree for everyone who has cancer.  My depression and anxiety intensify everything.  I need constant reassurance, which makes me feel guilty.  I feel like I am reaching out for help too often.  I don’t know what else to do.  That reassurance is necessary for me.  I need a lot of reassurance.  It is something I cannot control.  I try to talk myself into being calmer.  I tell myself to focus on what Dr. St said.  It is a battle in my head that I can’t seem to win.

                  I am doing what I need to do to improve my depression and anxiety.  Every day I receive TMS treatment.  I believe it will help, but again, I need to be patient.  Every week I talk to Dr. Klein.  I talk to Stephanie weekly.  I have regular appointment with Dr. S.  My mental health is being addressed.  Depression and anxiety are powerful.  They overtake my mind making it harder to fight the cancer.  

                  I wish I could sit down with someone who has experienced what I am going through and just talk.  I attend an online support group for patients with stage 4 cancer.  It helps, but it is not enough for me at this point in my journey.  I am left with the question, “What can I do?”  Right now, I am not sure I know the answer to that question.  I’ll keep searching for the answer. I’ll try to keep reaching out to my mental health and physical health teams.  I know they are willing to help and that it is okay for me to reach out.  I need to remind myself of that.

Cindi, Dr. St’s nurse navigator understands what I am going through.  I find myself reaching out to her more often.  However, I can’t do that in the middle of the night when my anxiety is at its worst.  I struggle more at night, but the days are not easy.  

                  As for the physical ailments I am experiencing, I will follow the advice I was given.  I will eat soft foods when I can actually eat and take antacids and nausea meds.  For my mental health, I’ll keep going to TMS and trust my team to guide me through all of this.  I know that overall, I am doing fairly well.  It is never going to be easy, but I need to believe it can improve.

 

Sports and Mental Health

                  Last week was National Girls and Women in Sport Day.  I want to take this opportunity to discuss mental health and sports.  There is research that indicates that exercise is beneficial to mental health.  I am not going to cite research.  Anyone who wants to learn more about that can do a simple Google search.  I want to focus more on the reality I have experienced and witnessed. 

                  From a personal perspective, I know my depression improves when I am taking regular walks.  Dr. Klein often encourages me to go for a walk.  He is usually right.  It improves my mood.  Sometimes the improvement is significant.  Other times it is slight.  Regardless, it is helpful.  Unfortunately, because of my cancer treatment my ability to go for walks has been negatively impacted.  I am working on building up my endurance because I know it will help me.  

                  For several years I was a high school coach.  I also worked basketball camps during summers while I was in college.  My win/loss record does not stand out, but I believe I was successful as a coach because I focused on building self-esteem in my athletes.  I shared a philosophy with the teenagers on my team.  It was simple.  “Believe in yourself.”  I explained to them that this meant to believe in themselves in good times and in bad.  One play didn’t define them as a person or as an athlete.  There would always be the next play.

                  Opportunities in sport for women and girls have multiplied greatly from the time I was growing up.  Women and girls are making strides that I never dreamed possible.  This gives the younger generation hope.  There are more female role models for girls now.  When I was a kid, Larry Bird was my basketball role model.  There just were not well-known female athletes to aspire to be like.  Now, girls can look up to Sue Bird, A’ja Wilson, Megan Rapinoe, Serena Williams, and so many others.  Having someone of the same gender to look up to is affirming for girls. 

                  From a mental health perspective, I am happy to hear many of these female sport stars (yes, there are men, too) who are not afraid to talk about their mental health.  Athletes like WNBA stars Kelsey Plum and A’ja Wilson are open about their mental health.  Simone Biles and Naomi Osaka have spoken about taking care of their mental health.  The courage these women have in sharing their stories helps girls who are growing up playing a sport.  It is giving young athletes encouragement to address their own mental health.

                  I look at my niece, who is a college softball player.  I see all the effort she puts into her sport.  I am grateful that there are strong role models for her.  I hope that she sees that if she struggles with mental health, she is not alone and can still be successful in the sport arena.  

                  Being an athlete takes mental and physical strength.  I am amazed by the women (and men) who can be open about their mental health while competing.  Recently, Kelsey Plum, the all-time leading scorer in NCAA women’s basketball, shared the impact her pursuit of that record had on her.  She didn’t stop there. She urged people to respect the impact the chase could be having on Caitlin Clark, who is chasing her record.  The world of sport needs more understanding of mental health.  We all see the accolades of athletes, but we don’t always see the struggle, both mental and physical, that goes on behind the scenes. 

                  Back to my niece.  She grew up on the dirt softball fields as star catcher.  To be in the position she is in she had to work hard.  That hard work is more than just catching and batting practice.  She has to believe in herself.  She had to learn to deal with moments of doubt.  I hope that the athletes she looks up to have taught her that she needs to care for her mental health on the field and in life as much as she develops her physical prowess.  I hope that maybe she reads this blog and knows that her aunt is here if she ever needs help with the mental health aspect of the game and more importantly, life.  

                  I was lucky to find two mentors in basketball who taught me as much, if not more, about the mental aspects of life as they taught me about the game.  I met Pam Martin and Carol Harrison when I was an 18-year-old college student.  Over 30 years later Pam and I still talk all the time.  I still learn from her.  We talk basketball and enjoy watching women’s collegiate basketball and the WNBA grow.  More importantly we talk about life.  We encourage and support each other.  Not a day goes by that I don’t miss Carol.  She passed away a few years ago, but I still hear her voice encouraging me.  Sport brought Pam and Carol into my life when I was struggling with my mental health.  I can only hope that I have helped others the way they helped me.  I hope that there are a lot of Pam and Carols out there giving young athletes hope. 

                  National Girls and Women in Sport Day is chance to focus on all the aspects of a female athlete’s life.  The game, no matter the sport, is just as much mental as it is physical.  Learning to deal with the mental aspects of sport can benefit us in how we deal with the mental aspects of life.   Sport does have a physical effect on our mental health, but I believe the confidence and mental strength it builds in an athlete is just as important.  Sport teaches us to deal with struggle and loss.  It teaches us to set goals and work towards them.  At times that goal is going to be to take care of our mental health.  What a gift it is to young girls playing a sport to have athletic role models who understand their struggles and are open about what they have gone through.  Thank you to those athletes who share their mental health stories and are role models to countless young athletes and fans.  

Still I Rise

            The great African-American writer/poet, Maya Angelou wrote a poem titled, “Still I Rise”.  I find inspiration in this poem.  Angelou shared how her confidence allowed her to overcome anything that was thrown at her.  She was a strong woman, but she was forced to overcome so much. Angelou proudly stood in the face of her trials, rising time and time again.  

            While struggling with illnesses is a different trial than Angelou faced, I feel like I find strength in her words. Depression and cancer are my trials.  I face them each day.  I must rise above them despite the difficulty.

            Angelou writes, 

 

“…Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear

I rise…”

 

            These words strike me.  When depression and cancer fill me with fear that I will not win the battle, I must rise.  I must fight.  It is through fighting that I can live.  It is not easy to rise when fighting illness, but I must have faith in my own strength. There is a video of Maya Angelou reciting her poem.  The certainty in her voice and the smile on her face serve as encouragement for me.  

            There is hope in Angelou’s poem.  I think as a person with depression and cancer, I can use this poem as motivation.  Maybe I should have it printed and framed as a reminder that I can do hard things.  I can fight my illnesses.  I can rise each day and live.  

            Depression and cancer have power, but I have strength within me.  I have been fighting depression since my early teens.  My battle with cancer has been seven months so far, but it has been intense.  I lean into Angelou’s words, “still I rise.”  Each day that I am here battling, I am winning.  I am living.  I am rising.

            Angelou is an inspiration.  I encourage you to read her poem and find strength in it.  The written word has power.  She captured a piece of human power in this poem.  By sharing her strength, she helps others to find their strength.  Whether you face illness or some other trial, “Still I Rise” provides hope.

If you would like to read the poem, here is a link: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46446/still-i-rise

 

            You can watch Maya Angelou recite her poem here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qviM_GnJbOM

Credit: "Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou

 

 

 

 

            

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do You Really See Me?

           I have had rough few days.  I am not up to writing a full post, but I want to get something up on the blog.  So, I will share a poem that is related to a recent post.  In my January 11^th post, “Turning Hurtful Words into Healing”, I wrote about a hurtful experience I had with a health care provider.  Since poetry is my go-to healing strategy, I wrote a few poems about that incident.  I am going to share one today.  This poem, Do You Really See Me? can be found in my book, Traveling the Healing Journey: Finding the Light in Mental Illness.  It is available in bookstores and on Amazon. 

            Let me know in the comments if the poem resonates with you.  I’ll be back with a longer post on Thursday.  

 

 

Do You Really See Me?

 

I get it.

I have a mental health disorder.

You do not understand.

I see you standing there in your white lab coat.

I guess you think that I am crazy.

It is easier for you to just assume that I am my mental health.

You do not see the person behind the label.

The person who feels so deeply, who longs for life to be different.

That is who I really am.

I am not just “depressed with catatonic features”.

I am more than my anxiety disorder.

I have dreams just like you.

I feel pain just like you.

Do you see me?

We are not that different.

One day you may struggle with this darkness, although I hope that you do not.

I do not wish depression on anyone.

Sometimes I wish I could better explain what it feels like to live with a mental health disorder.

Let others know what is like to see darkness all around me.

I hide my tears, wear a fake smile just to get through the day.

You only see a part of me.

Deep inside I am longing to emerge from behind my diagnosis;

Shatter the label and be seen.

 

 

Focusing on the Big Picture

           As I travel the cancer and mental illness journey, I have discovered that often the big picture gets lost.  When different aspects of my illnesses demand my attention, I forget that I am still alive and functioning.  I don’t do this on purpose.  It just happens.

            My depression and anxiety have taken a downturn in recent weeks.  I am struggling.  I recognize that it is my mental illness.  The low mood and constant feelings of panic are not who I am.  They are manifestations of my mental illness.  I find myself withdrawing into myself.  I fight to get myself out of my house, even though I know I do better when I get myself to the Coffee Bean to write.  I try to talk back to the thoughts that tell me I can’t continue.  My response is weak, and I wonder if my mind even notices my words. 

            The anxiety that consumes me is obsessed with test results and every pain I feel.  It tells me the cancer is getting worse.  The anxiety tells me I am not going to survive.  I try not to listen, but its voice is so loud.  Anxiety tells me that when I don’t hear from my oncologist or my primary it is because the news is bad.  A nurse tells me that the results are okay, and I immediately wonder what that means and question it.  Anxiety sucks.  

            In my head the pain over my liver means the cancer has returned.  The rash on my abdomen must mean something is wrong.  The pain and discoloration on my nails must mean something is wrong.  My oncologist said two of these are nothing to worry about.  I haven’t asked her about the rash.  Despite her words, fear persists in my head.  I can’t make it stop.  

This is the battle that comes with having cancer and mental illness.  Each of these illnesses is difficult on their own.  Together the intensity of that difficulty is almost unbearable.   I struggle to remember that my last scans were good.  I question the bloodwork because I see one of the numbers increasing.  My primary’s nurse tells me one of the tests indicates perimenopause.  I don’t know what that means or what is next, but I hesitate to ask.  It leaves me with so many questions.  

I know I need to focus on the fact that my oncologist says I am doing well.  My mental health team says the TMS will start to work, and my depression will soon lift.  On one level I believe them.  On another level, I am scared as hell.  

In the big picture, I am alive.  Yes, I have many health concerns.  I need to receive treatments frequently.  I must take care of my health, take medications, and receive therapy.  But again, in the big picture, I am alive.  

None of this is easy.  Often, I want to ask questions of my health care team but can’t figure out how to formulate the questions.  Other times, I know what I want to ask, but I feel stupid asking.  I worry that I am wasting their time.  When I reach out to their nurses with questions or concerns, I worry that they are tired of hearing from me.  I know much of this stems from my mental illness.  It controls my thoughts.  Knowing this doesn’t make it any easier.  Every day is a battle.  

Talking to my mental health team helps.  Attending the cancer support group lets me know I am not alone. Friends and family help, but I don’t want to burden them. These are my illnesses to bear.  It’s the in between times that are so difficult to face alone.  I can see the big picture, but so much gets in the way.  I know I need to keep taking steps forward. Sometimes I don’t know how.  The big picture becomes blurry, and I need help refocusing. Living with illness colors my life.  I need reminders that in the big picture I am still here. I am not lying in a hospital bed or worse, in a coffin.  I have the ability to fight.  I have the support I need to battle my illnesses.  I need to remember that.  The big picture needs to be my focus.