Managing depression-pls share

Cat,

I have suffered and I mean SUFFERED with depression since my hysterectomy (I am sans ovaries, too)  I think that when you go for more than a few of weeks of moderate depression, it's time to talk to the doc. It can get harder to control after it has gone on too long because your self esteem takes a real beating. 
My depression is not under control by I'm a-typical. My suggestion is to do whatever it takes to live as good a life as you can.   

Cat, I encourage you not to make changes to psych meds like antidepressants "on your own" as you described getting off Celexa.  The "right" way to do it is to ask your prescribing person to watch you as you wean off, with a couple of checkups, and also discussion about the topic you asked us:  When is it time (symptom-wise) to reconsider being off antidepressants?  How will I know I should get back on them?

The answer from Iambubbies is also accurate.  A few weeks is time enough ... If you have had one bout of depression, you're at risk for future ones, so why wait?

You might also benefit from some talk therapy because you've identified several big issues going on for you, getting clarification and support can only help.

Good luck. 

I had felt the same weepy, oh woe is me way for a few months and didn't understand it. I was never like that and didn't know what was going on. Then, because of serious joint and bone pain, I had to stop tamoxifin and within a few months my depression was gone. So, talk to your doc about the tamox too - maybe she can adjust the dosage or something - it may help. I feel for you.

I found this article from the NY Times back in 2009.  It is written by a man who had prostrate cancer and is now dealing with depression.  I found it interesting that a lot of what he is describing is very similar to what I've read on various threads here.  He talks about depression after treatment.

September 29, 2009, 10:40 AM

After Cancer, Ambushed by Depression

By DANA JENNINGS

I’m depressed.

I’m recovering well from an aggressive case of prostate cancer, I haven’t had any treatment in months, and all of my physical signposts of health are pointing in the right direction.

Still, I’m depressed.

And I’ve been ambushed by it. After more than a year of diagnosis, treatment and waiting, it’s almost as if, finally and unexpectedly, my psyche heaved a sigh and gave itself permission to implode.

I’m not alone in this cancer-caused depression. As many as 25 percent of cancer patients develop depression, according to the American Cancer Society. That’s contrasted with about 7 percent of the general population.

This isn’t about sadness or melancholy. It’s more profound than that. Broadly, I have a keen sense of being oppressed, as if I were trapped, wrapped up in some thick fog coming in off the North Atlantic.

To be more specific, I’m exhausted, unfocused and tap my left foot a lot in agitation. I don’t much want to go anywhere — especially anyplace that’s crowded — and some days I can’t even bear the thought of picking up the phone or changing a light bulb. All of this is often topped off by an aspirin-proof headache.

The fatigue frustrates me most. When I envision myself it’s as a body in motion, walking or running, not foundering in bed. On one recent day, I slept till 10 in the morning — getting 11 hours of sleep — then took a nap from noon to 2. And I was still tired.

I’ve had occasional depression over the years, but nothing as dogged as this. When I first learned that I had prostate cancer, I wondered about depression. But after the shock of the diagnosis wore off, I was sharp and clear-headed. I wasn’t depressed as I went through treatment — surgery, radiation and hormone therapy. I was buoyed by a kind of illness-induced adrenaline.

The bone-smoldering fatigue arrived in late spring/early summer, and intensified as summer deepened. I thought that I might be depressed, but resisted the diagnosis, didn’t want to countenance the idea that I could be depressed after all of my treatment.

I stubbornly chalked the fatigue up to the lingering aftereffects of radiation and my fluctuating levels of testosterone. But I was wrong.

I am seeing a psychiatrist who specializes in cancer patients, and have started a course of medication. My doctor assures me that depression isn’t unusual among those who are on the far side of treatment.

Partly, I think, I’m grieving for the person I was before I learned I had cancer. Mortality is no longer abstract, and a certain innocence has been lost.

And while the physical trauma is past, the stress lingers and brings with it days washed in fine shades of gray. In the same way that radiation has a half-life, stress does, too. We all ache to be the heroes of our own tales, right? Well, I’m not feeling too heroic these days.

Cancer pushes lots of difficult buttons. It lays bare our basic vulnerability and underlines the uncertainty of this life. And prostate cancer attacks our culture’s ideal of manhood. The steely-eyed Marlboro Man isn’t expected to worry about incontinence and erectile dysfunction.

Cancer feels bleaker than other diseases. Even though my health keeps improving, and there’s a good chance that I’m cancer free, I still feel stalked, as if the cancer were perched on my shoulder like some unrepentant imp.

It’s harder to write about the weight of depression than it is to write about prostate cancer and its physical indignities. Cancer is clear biological bad luck. But depression, no matter how much we know about it, makes part of me feel as if it’s somehow my fault, that I’m guilty of something that I can’t quite articulate.

This has also been a difficult post to write because during my dark waltz with cancer I’ve depended on my natural optimism and my sense of humor to help see me through. But depression blunts those traits.

In the end, though, I believe in and trust in the healing power of the stories that we tell each other. And I wouldn’t be truthful to you or myself if I ignored the fact that I’m depressed … even as I wait for a brisk wind billowing out of the north that’ll blow this fog of mine away. 

He did for me, too.  So often I've thought that the post treatment depression was due to many of us having MX and our new body images but maybe it's not all about that.  Maybe part of it is "grieving for the person you were before cancer".   

cathmg,

I've had experience with depression long before I was "introduced" to bc. Can't imagine surviving without medication esp. with bc! With the combination of less estrogen ( on tamoxifen you still have some in your system, unlike  on an AI),  and the emotional experiences you're havi to deal with ON TOP of having had treament for bc - well, I expect you had a good reason for stopping Celexa, but maybe it's time to re-exaine that decision with your therapist.

I have a friend with no illness, except iving with her two beloved teenagers

There are also some ways to address depression through mindfulness-based practices.  You might check out a really excellent, inexepensive recording  "The Mindful Way through Depression: Freeing Yourself from Chronic Unhappiness" by Teasdale, Segal, and Kabat-Zin.  You can get the book, but the recording is quite nice because it provides a guided meditation that is very helpful. You can get this through Amazon, Soundstrue, and others.  I do know that the research shows that either medication or talk therapy help, but together they are even better.  Hope you feel better soon.

Catherine- Job hunting will definitely put you into a depression- especially here in AZ where there aren't any jobs!  I've always dealt with depression, though, and it's not a mental thing but more of a chemical imbalance.  I relate me needing anti-depressants to a diabetic needing insulin.  Currently, though, it's more of an "emotional" depression.  Just trying to process the aftermath of BC, my DH's recent DX of Parkinson's, dealing with fibro and I'll even throw in one teenager for good measure!  Something about the Arizona summers seems to add to it, too.  I think it's the cabin fever from hiding inside from the intense heat!

I relate to this post so well. I have always dealt with depression by learning something, even if at first it feels impossible to take anything new on. A first time attempt at gardening has gotten me through this summer. It is so hopeful, and if you sow enough seeds something is bound to sprout. When I get down I drive to the garden and weed and harvest my vegetables. It has a mindless quality, a silence, that really is helpful when you are trying to find a new job, deal with lymphedema in both arms, and just "be"...

Get a pot and plant something. Basil is good and using some fresh on a tomato or a homemade pizza is very gratifying... 

cathmg:

Happy to hear your day is better! Better is the goal for me too right now - the lymphedema is a constant reminder of things I would rather forget!

Isn't it funny how something so simple can do a world of good? I never had any interest in plants, but figured it would be a good addition to my diet and food budget if I tried to grow something. Seeing something beautiful is so beneficial. Now I am thinking about a throwback to the 70's: WHO REMEMBERS TERRARIUMS? Thinking about trying to find some! You can build a tiny world in there---and along with macrame and tie dye, I spent a lot of my teenage years messing with colored sand and these glass houses.

cathmg - Like some of the other ladies here, I also had depression issues before the bc diagnosis. I was on Celexa and Buspar  (a combo of meds like Caerus mentioned in an earlier post) for over a year. I did not have side effects, but I did start tapering off of them, to see if I could handle things wihout meds. I had literally been fully off the meds for only a week when I got the bc diagnosis. How ironic ! But I had also started seeing a naturopathic chiropractor who is helping me with balancing hormones (I'm 42, hello peri-menopause and wicked mood swings!), giving me supplements to help with blood sugar issues, insomnia, etc. I really wanted to try to get thru everything without going back on the meds. So far so good. I mean, not that it hasn't been hard and there haven't been some really bad moments. What I found interesting is that I felt like my bc diagnosis gave me the "right" to be depressed or emotional or whatever. Before, I used to feel guilty about having depression, which just added another layer of angst to it. About a week and 1/2 ago I had a really rough 5 days, where I could just feel the depression starting to drag me down into its pit of hell. I felt powerless to stop it...although I continued to do all the things I could to not let it take over:  took walks, took naps, read funny books, watched funny movies. As quickly as that "episode" came on, it was gone in 5 days. So I'm chalking that up to hormones. Nasty things. Meanwhile, my naturopath doctor strongly encouraged me to get off sugar. She has been gently suggesting this since I started seeing her...but I have such a sweet tooth, and love chocolate so much that I resisted the advice. After this last episode, she basically said," I think you are very sensitive to sugar and it really affects your moods. You have to figure out if satisfying your sweet tooth is worth feeling the way you did for those 5 days." That really hit home with me. You know, people who are on diets tell themselves, "is the taste of that junk food really worth the extra pounds I'm trying to get rid of?" So this is the same idea, but from a mental health perspective. (Although apparently there are tons of physical health reasons to stay away from sugar -- that it feeds cancer cells being a big one!) So now I am starting Day 3 of not eating sugar. And my depression/anxiety/insomnia are all already doing better. My moods have leveled out. Could be a coincidence, who knows, but I'm going to keep it up for a couple of weeks and see how it goes. I don't think a life of depriving yourself of something pleasurable is the answer, so I've  got dark choc chips on standby...dark choc is supposed to be good for you (in moderation) and I love dark choc...but meanwhile I'm trying to figure out how much my sweet tooth cravings are a habit rather than an actual need.

Sorry, I've gone on and on. Just trying to show you what I've been doing lately to help myself. And I agree with others who say sometimes you just need to be on meds, the chemical imbalance in your brain is just too off. There are tons of different meds available.

Well, while you're figuring this out, just keep doing little things that make you happy, bring you joy, and don't stress you out. Hugs to you !

DivineMrsM - I read your post and just wanted to wish you luck with your lumpectomy tomorrow. Sending healing thoughts your way ! Also took a peek at your bio and it sounds like you have a great attitude even with all the challenges in your life...