Between A Hard Place & A Hard Place

Hi Friends. I am sorry that I haven't written in a bit. I've been depressed. I've been trying to get my butt in gear here and there, but for the most part I haven't had the energy to do much. I've been pretty shaken up by Ethan's death, then Kathi Goertzen's death which was technically due to pneumonia but was truly a complication from her brain tumor. A few days after that I heard that Tony Scott the famous director killed himself allegedly because he was diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer. When I heard that he jumped to his death I thought to myself, "Does he know something I don't know? How bad will this get? Will I regret this journey?" The concept of death has been swirling around me. It's in the air in each room slowly suffocating me. Each time it nudges me, I turn my head and try to ignore what it whispers in my ear, but just trying to ignore Death's comments have zapped me of all energy.

The worst part about the whole thing is that I'm incredibly healthy (other than Hermie obviously). I have EVERYTHING going for me. I have a fabulous life with a wonderful man whom I adore. I have a safe home. I have wonderful friends and a great family. I get it. Conceptually, I understand my great fortune. But, sometimes, I get torn between fear of the monster in my brain, about the projected future of my disease and denial. I can't seem to live in just one life (fear) or the other (denial). Instead I oscillate, fighting, fulling knowing that I if I don't accept the truth of my situation (whatever that means) I'll crumble. And that makes me frustrated. Life is too short to fall apart, and I hate that I'm in this predicament - not the tumor part, but the fact that I can't seem to come to peace with it these days. There's no point in being upset that I have brain cancer, I can't wish it away - but I can try and heal myself with healthy eating, exercise, supplements, and perhaps the clinical trial. But when I'm depressed, I don't feel like taking my pills. I don't feel like leaving the house. I don't feel like dealing with anything. I don't want to talk, or write, or socialize. And that's not me. I hate it when I'm not me. But I don't know how to fix it. People have mentioned anti-depressants, and I appreciate the suggestion, but anti-depressants have been linked to gliomas (they're not sure if it's correlation or causation) and that terrifies me. I feel anti-depressants aren't an option.

Ferry ride to FH