Game On

Y'all miss me?  It's been a while.  (And now I have that horrific song, "It's Been Awhile" by Staind in my head.  Mother f#$%er.)

It's been a while for a couple of reasons.  One, my family and I were gallivanting around Paris for two weeks, watching Women's World Cup games, eating baguettes, sweating our asses off and making memories of a lifetime.  Two, I've been in a funk.

I suffer from depression.  That's generally par for the course with stage IV cancer.  Can't say that I have ever met anyone who was diagnosed with a terminal disease who wasn't, at minimum, a little depressed.  "Stage IV, you say?  Well that's fucking fantastic!  That's the bees knees!  I'm gonna pee my pants with excitement!"  Not so much.

Truth is, I was diagnosed with depression long before I was diagnosed with cancer.  I've been on meds for nearly 19 years.  I used to have really high, highs and very low, lows.  I am not bipolar, but I do need a pill to regulate my brain.

For nearly two decades, I have taken medicine to combat my depression.  I used to take the adorably, well-known Prozac for 13 years.  Fantastic drug, which served its purpose and kept me sane.  (I'm over-dramatizing my depression.  But it did stabilize my days and overall life.)  Then in 2012, like a cruel joke, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Thing is, my Prozac helped me with "normal" depression, not "cancer-induced" depression.  That's a whole new level of crazy.

The logical answer would be to up my dosage of Prozac.  Unfortunately, Prozac directly impacted and lessened the effectiveness of my cancer-inhibiting drugs.  In short, I couldn't take the drugs that were working to prevent a cancer recurrence and the Prozac together.

Eventually, with the help of a wonderful APRN and the internet, we were able to identify a more intensive, anti-depressant drug that didn't interact with my cancer meds, and helped with the enhanced depressed feelings that came with a cancer diagnosis. Boo yah!

Life and depression are fickle little bitches.  I was depressed.  Prozac calmed me.  I was diagnosed with cancer.  I was more depressed.  Effexor calmed me.  I was diagnosed with terminal cancer.  And well, fuck.  No drug can calm my frequent demonic thoughts or save my life.  BUT I finally have a therapist.  I've had other therapists, all of whom I hated, lied to, and met with to humor my family's wishes.  BUT I finally have a therapist, and my therapist prescribed a therapy.

The therapy? Well thank you for reading.  This blog is my therapy.  And you are all my shrinks!

I suffer from depression.  And depression is a real thing.  It's not something that people can just snap out of, or convince themselves to be more happy.  It doesn't make me a weak person, or a sad person.  It doesn't make me someone to be pitied.  What it does make me, is me.  It's a part of my everyday life, cancer or no cancer.  And I am proud of me - the good, the bad, the ugly, the crazy, the parts that I hope like hell, continue to get better with age.

So I continue on my anti-depressant, I see my therapist twice a month, and I write a blog.  Depression needs an outlet.  Why do you think some people cut themselves?  It's a way to release the demons.  Instead, talk about it.  Write about it.  Sing about it.  Depression thrives on silence and internalization.  Release depression, and its power, its hold, is no more.

I started my blog saying that it's been a while because I was in a funk.  I just broke my silence and released my demons.

Abbie - 1.  Depression - 0.

Game on.



Comments


  1. πŸ’œπŸ’œπŸ’œπŸ’œ

    ReplyDelete
  2. You have incredible strength - sharing this sounds like it’s a release for you but your words undoubtedly help others who need an ally, even if you never meet or hear from them. Sometimes people release from others perfectly describing how they feel but just struggled to articulate it.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Game on is right! You got this! Love reading your blogs.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Love you girl...πŸ’™ Glad the demons lostπŸ‘

    ReplyDelete

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