The day before I received my diagnosis, I confessed to my therapist that a large part of me wanted to be told that I have cancer. The two of us spent the remainder of our session discussing the whys of that. But I also sensed that even with her acceptance and gentleness around my confession she was searching for a similar confession (and maybe reassurance) that a larger part of me wanted to be well.
When someone shares the news that they've just been diagnosed with cancer, the recipient is left feeling awkward, searching for the right words to say, and it's usually a platititude - "I will send you positive thoughts," "I hope you are getting better every day," and "I will keep you in my prayers." I'm pretty sure that no one entertains the possibility that someone may be somewhat pleased with a cancer diagnosis, and that's why the person with the illness upon breaking the news will probably not hear "how do you feel about that?" or "wow, you lucked out, no more facing this uncertain economy."
So why did I want to receive the cancer diagnosis? Initially, I thought that the possbility of death would bring relief from a life plagued by depression, in a world where I receive daily reminders that I am not good enough and I believe that I am merely tolerated by the people in my life. I feel very lonely most of the time. I confess that I was looking forward to people acting nicer to me, treating me more seriously, and reaching out to me. But after I've come to experience all that and more in the aftermath of sharing my news, it appears to be much more than that.
I view the battle that I will be facing as an opportunity to search deep inside myself for the person I truly am and when I find that person I want to grab on as tightly as I can and pull that self out from the emotional muck and misconceptions that shaped my life and plagued me for so long. And that is because I need the true person who dwells hidden inside of me to stand with me for strength, for love, and for the courage to be who I am without worrying what anybody else thinks.
And when I emerge on the other side of this battle I hope that I will find the world a happier place to live, because if I can make myself a true lifelong friend I know I will never be alone, and that may ease the depression too.
Afterthoughts:
Funny, but as debilitating as cancer can be I am not sure that it can feel as bad as the cold, painful, and vulnerable suffering associated with depression. Cancer you face with a ton of concerned people who feel that you did not bring this horrible, unfair killer on your self, and as a result they don't want you to face your battle alone. Depression, on the other hand, while every bit as horrible and unfair a killer as cancer, is not treated with the same army of support as cancer, and often is not even deemed an illness, but more of a mood that people bring on themselves and can just "snap out of" if only they set their minds to it.
So dare I say that I wished for my diagnosis as a front to have people care for me, take my depression (and suffering) more seriously, have a supportive community, and maybe in the process, find comfort with myself and my world? I'm still exploring as my begin my journey.
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This is an amazing insightful post. An unexpected journey like this can yield stregnth and insight that otherwise you may not have realized that you have always had.
ReplyDeleteOne of the hardest lessons to learn is that people get wrapped up in the busy lives and don't always initiate contact. Tell your friends and family what you want and need and you will be amazed by the outpouring of love, kindness, and support. Don't fall into the trap of thinking that if they don't call on their own, they don't care about you. That's the depression talking. And it is a vicious circle: you get depressed and it is harder to initiate contact with people, and then people are less likely to initiate contact, and so it goes. In any case, hang in there. Terri and I are rooting for you!
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