I deleted my post from Thursday about going back on disability. Those of you who read the blog through the RSS feed (direct emails) got a chance to see my thoughts. I deleted it because I was worried about any fallout from discussing the job in a negative way.
(shrug)
I didn't say anything bad, but I was pretty emotional when I wrote it and I didn't take time to reflect on how I was feeling and the best way to approach the matter.
Bottomline, I'm back on disability. I was sent home on Thursday because the people in my office didn't think I was doing so well.
Now that I've had time to think about it and reflect -- and also consider the sudden death of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett's death after fighting cancer for 3 years -- I have calmed down. The truth is that sometimes other people see you in ways that you cannot see yourself. I live in a bubble of sorts... I'm surrounded by people who love me and want to see me survive and thrive through this latest challenge. So, to hear from strangers (over the phone) and hear that people who only vaguely know me (my co-workers) that they are worried about my abilities... really was devastating.
Lately, I've been very concerned with my emotional health. Not that I feel like I'm doing very poorly emotionally, but some days I do struggle. Some days, it is HARD, hard, hard. I am not as angry as I was months back but the sadness... it is always pretty close by. And that frightens me.
Although I wasn't exactly thrilled with my job after I returned (things were very different)... it did get me out of the house and among other people. Being put back on short-term disability felt like being pushed back down a staircase you've worked to climb. I've been kicking myself, asking myself what I could have done differently, done better. And I don't know. There's always something that I think I can improve upon. I wonder if I'm too hard, not hard enough... am I doing this right?
There are no easy answers.
True to myself... I did a quick search for depression and breast cancer and also suicide and breast cancer. (yes, I did) I had to see for myself what was out there, what others have dealt with and gone through just to see where I fell on the scale.
I was mortified to learn that black women breast cancer survivors are almost 3 times more likely to commit suicide than other survivors. This includes a period of up to 25 years beyond breast cancer.
Wow.
Now, to put things in perspective, the number is relatively small considering the number of women who have to handle breast cancer... so its not like we're talking about an epidemic. But there is definitely a reported number of women who struggle with depression during and after breast cancer. And a small number of those women end up committing suicide.
Its a frightening thought.
I looked up depression because the fear of depression coming into my life scares me deeply. And the emotions that bubbled up on Thursday reminded me of a darker period in my life. I needed to head it off at the pass.
Naturally there are lots of reasons/contributing factors to the depression that are directly linked to breast cancer treatments -- including taking tamoxifen for hormonal treatments.
Arrrghhh... is there ever an easy answer, an easy choice on this journey?
Right this moment, I am trying to motivate myself to go to a birthday party tonight. Earlier this week, I really wanted to go. Now, I'm not sure. But then... after reading about depression and suicide and breast cancer -- I feel like I need to force myself out of the house and interact with people.
I think I'm going to go. I need to mingle among other people and laugh and feel free for a little while. I refuse to go down into the pit of depression.
Re-
Fuse.
Farrah Fawcett has never been a "hero" of mine. Well, maybe when I was a little girl and she was one of "Charlie's Angels". But generally speaking, I've only thought of her as "fluff"... pretty much the way I consider most entertainers. Though I didn't get to see her documentary her death touched me deeply. Every time I learn about another cancer death, it affects my mood and my spirit. Farrah's death actually has been more difficult for me than Michael Jackson's death. Because I know that she has exercised a lot of faith, a lot of courage and a lot of strength just to live to June 2009.
This has been an emotional and difficult week. Dealing with the death of others always makes us loook at our own lives and wonder about our mortality. Farrah had a rare form of cancer and she fought, fought and fought some more against it. In the end, she was frail and in pain... but she still fought. I admire that kind of strength. I don't know if I have it or not... but I certainly hope so.
The faith to keep trusting doctors, the faith to keep trying new treatments, the courage to get on planes and fly between countries looking for answers, the faith and the courage to say yes to the marriage proposal of Ryan O'Neal...the courage to keep smiling, and keep filming... through the pain and through the knowledge that the end was near.
Today Farrah is definitely my hero.
If I had enough hair, I would rock the "Farrah flip" in her honor. But instead, I will put on some snazzy trousers and some heels and go to this party like nothing's bothering me and my body is in perfect health.
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