Change of Circumstance – Opening the Door

The Depression/Anxiety disease I have has been passed down through the generations on my father’s side of the family.  While there were hints of it when I was young, it came on full blast when I began this bizarre journey into bad health in my early 30’s.  I am now embarking on a new journey of being tested for a genetic pattern that will give me some idea of what type of cancer is coming next, which will make it a lot easier for the doctors to catch it early.

The idea that I will have any understanding of what has happened to me (three different cancers) is rocking my world.  I have had an upset stomach for two weeks, because I am so freaked out about this.  While this really should be seen as being good news, I do not know what to do with it.  I am 61, and for most of my adult life, I have been firmly convinced that I was going to die in a painful way from cancer, and that it could happen at any time.  The possibility that this fate could actually be avoided is earth-shattering.  My whole psychological construct may no longer be in tune with reality.

This construct evolved to mask or deal with my core belief, namely, that I was going to have a painful death at an early age.  My Depression/Anxiety has kept that fear alive even as I have aged.  Additionally, reality has kept that nightmare alive: my last serious cancer was only 4 years ago.  Right now, I feel like I have no idea from day to day what my body is up to.  However, now that the cancer doctors are going to explain in some way what has been going on, I cannot help but think that knowing about my health problem would be helpful.

Going back to my statement above that Depression/Anxiety is inherited, I think I can expect that this disease will do its best to rob me of any new-found sense of safety that I might feel from this extraordinary news.  So what to do?  First, welcome the old fear.  Take it out of its hiding place deep in my heart, or wherever it is housed, and look at what I have learned from it.  At the very least, I have learned to live with a great realistic fear.  I have lived in a war zone where I am constantly trying to avoid being shot or killed.  Many of the coping skills I have learned over these last 30 years can be brought to bear in whatever situation I face in the future.  So if there is a ceasefire, I need to retool old skills and learn a few new ones.

I have tried to think back to how I felt before the cancer and depression started.  I was 31 and a new mother.  I actually remember being happy.  The lesson I can take from that time is that it is possible to be hopeful.  I know I can never go back to my feelings in those days, because since then, I have gone through a protracted war, and my wounds and scars are still fresh.  However, hope is flexible, and it can fit in just about anywhere if you open the door to it.  Now I just have to figure out how to open that door.