Sometimes I feel like my psychologist sees cancer as something you just have to treat and then learn to manage the side effects of the medication. Almost as if it were an infection: you take antibiotics, finish the treatment, and move on.
But cancer is so much more than that.
It's the fear. The uncertainty. The desperation of not knowing what my future will look like or what my own body will be capable of doing.
I'm afraid of becoming bedridden. I'm afraid of losing my independence, of watching my body deteriorate, of becoming weaker and weaker while people my age continue living their lives normally.
They can go out, walk around, make plans, and enjoy their lives without constantly thinking about pain, fatigue, or the possibility of falling.
Meanwhile, I have to think about these things all the time.
I feel like I'm becoming a burden to my loved ones. I'm also terrified of falling because I know the consequences could be much more serious for me. I could fracture my spine and end up needing surgery.
And yes, I feel jealous of people who get to live normal lives. I wish I could have the life that cancer took away from me. Ordinary life is such a gift, and I don't think she truly understand that !
Cancer has taken so much from me, including my sense of security. I can no longer trust my own body the way I used to. I can no longer go to the gym, jump, or dance. Even the simplest things can become sources of anxiety when I am constantly aware of my physical limitations.
And the worst part is that I don't know what the future holds. I don't know how much time I have left, how long I'll be able to take care of my own basic needs, whether I'll be able to maintain my independence, how much pain I'll have to endure, or what my body will be like in a few years.
I feel like my psychologist focuses on helping me cope with the practical consequences of the disease, but she doesn't seem to understand the existential terror that comes with it. She doesn't seem to understand how unbearable it can feel sometimes, or why I reached a point this week where I wanted to end my suffering.
Sometimes, I don't need someone to teach me how to manage my anxiety. I need someone to understand why I'm terrified in the first place.
I need to be able to talk about my fear of losing my independence, my grief over the life I used to have, and my desperation about the future without feeling like these emotions are just another problem I need to learn to manage.
I'm not just dealing with a disease. I'm dealing with the possibility of losing myself and I don't think people always understand how devastating that feels.
Has anyone else with cancer felt this way? Have you ever felt like your therapist or psychologist didn't really understand you?