I never expected....

It's very common to get depressed when our treatment is completed.  It seems like we should be happy treatment is over, however, I learned from others on these boards that it's VERY common to feel badly when treatment is finished.  I knew this, but I still hit bottom.  I called the cancer center at my hospital and asked for a therapist who is experienced in clients who have had cancer.  I was referred to a wonderful therapist, who not only leads cancer groups, but has experienced breast cancer twice herself.  She's been a godsend!

 Seek out a professional.  It'll do you good, I promise.

I completely understand. Just wanted to send you (((hugs))).

Are you taking tamoxifen? I was taking it and then stopped because I'm supposed to start rads next week. I cannot believe the improvement in my mood. I am having serious doubts about restarting it now.

Either way, I'm sorry you are feeling this way. Therapy can be really helpful.

Vanlex,

Hey - Good Morning. I know exactly what you're talking about. There's been a pretty active thread called 'Why Was I Stronger DURING  treatment than I am now'. (I've tried sending you the link). 

 http://community.breastcancer.org/forum/7/topic/786554?page=13#idx_366 

The discussion has been going on for a few months, but there are two major points. Firstly, you are not alone. There are a whole bunch of us who are irrational, depressed, sweaty, and sobbing in the closet.

The other point is - what happened to our inner warriors!? All during treatment we were strong and determined, with swords blazing and the whole bit. But after treatment comes confusion, and sadness, and the inability to do anything - which is a stark contrast to how we've been handling ourselves up till now.

And yes - the friends and family that were so supportive, are now saying the wrong things. I went through a period where I was mad at everybody. My best friends would say something sweet and funny, and my inner voice was saying 'Oh f*ck off!'.   I tried therapy, but my psychiatrist just made me mad.  My anger has dissipated since then, but I still have emotions that are foreign to me. I'm as surprised as anyone when I over react (if there is such a thing) or start crying for no apparent reason. And my clothes don't fit which is a whole other conversations. And my partner - he's not getting anything right now, poor fella.

If you're interested, some of the ladies' stories deal with the same things you're dealing with right now. And, almost all of them have pretty happy endings, so it's nice to see people getting back on their feet, grabbing their swords, and keeping their sense of humour.

I wish you all the best,

Janet 

Although I'm metastatic, and so will never get to put it behind me, I have noticed this quite often in early stage woman.  You are done with your treatment and then have to go it alone.  There is a lot of support, both medical and family and friends, and things that happen to bolster you up during treatment.  Then, when it's over, everybody expects you to be done and finished and all the support dries up.

And, you haven't gotten over it yet.  I also know, having lived with this for over 3 years, that you will eventually be able to put it behind you, and it seems to naturally happen about the 3 year mark.  I see that's when people stop posting on boards, stop their blogs, start putting it behind them.

But, I also think there is a problem in that nobody really tells you how to prepare for health.  Just as you have a plan for treatment, I think there needs to be a plan for Survivorship.  And, it needs to start during treatment.  People need to know that their tamoxifen will cause them pain and mood swings but they usually go away.  That they will have fears of every ache and pain, but have a strategy for managing it.  (For example, we have a two week rule - you have to have an ache or pain for two weeks before you tell your oncologist).  You have to manage your new body, and I think every cancer patient who has a mx needs a round of PT or two.  So many of us end up with aching backs and sore shoulders because of mastectomies, but it causes fear because we think bad back=mets when really, it's the change in body shape.  They need to get a kinesthesiologist involved in cancer more.

For all women newly diagnosed, once the shock is worn off and you have a treatment plan, I think you also need to think about a Survivorship Plan.  Because, it is not always easy but since we have a road map to physical health, we need a roadmap to mental health.

Time heals all wounds and you will get better and feel more normal.  But, I think with planning and knowledge and HELP women can do it quickly.   

I believe during treatment, surgeries and all the other associated problems - we have two thoughts SURVIVAL and our immediate HEALTH!  But we change, breast cancer changes us - but not necessarily the other people in our lives.  So what is life like after cancer?  What do we do now?

On your body and the NEW you.  You need to love every lump, bump, scar, bulge - what ever you see.  Because this ole body - got us through - for me it allowed me to carry and give birth to 2 healthy children.  It allowed me to raise 3 fabulous children.  I survived ovarian cancer and full hysterectomy and instant menapause at 35.  Then at 45 - the beast, surgeries and everything that came with it.  So be kind to your body.  You are here!  YOU ARE HERE!

Please know this was my journey - I sat in an emergency room and close to death.  I was 45 years old.  I spent my whole life feeling I was never good enough.  As I sat there = I realized I had wasted God's greatest gift.....LIFE.  I made a deal with God - youo  get me through this and I WILL find a way to love myself.  Accept myself for myself. 

The buddist when they go to temple - they strip themselves of all ornaments - they shave their heads, remove their makeup, jewelry, clothes and allows you to become in touch with yourself.  Not our ornaments.  Cancer stripped me of everything I had defined myself by - I couldn't work, I couldn't clean, I couldn't do for others.  I was the one that needed help.  I lost my hair, my eye brows and most of my eyelashes.  And I FOUND me!   Not what I could , not how much money I could make, not how clean I could keep my house, not how great of a meal I could fix.  It was about me - the love I gave, the kindest I shared, the strength I held within.  My beauty within - that beamed brightly outside me too!

It wasn't easy, it took time but I did it.  I was heavy, I have stretch marks, scars, (hysterectomy/bi-lateral mas) reconstruction, cellulite, wing flaps (upper arms) - and yes that is my physical flaws.  I also have dimples in my cheeks, I have eyes that light up when I laugh.  I have a fabulous sense of humor, I have a big heart, I am kind to others. 

Be kind to yourself, love yourself.  You are worthy - God doesn't make junk!  You are an amazing woman!  Let your journey continue!

Please don't take this as being rude, emikofierro, but your comment reflects a rather simplistic view of life after a cancer diagnosis.  The OP isn't complaining about the fact that she's alive, she's simply sharing the fact that her life (post cancer diagnosis) is drastically different and she's having trouble adjusting.  We're ALL happy to still be alive.   Some of us would like to live the rest of out lives without the issues that arrise with reconstructed breasts that we may or may not be comfortable with and other various side effects, such as instant menopause at an extremely young age that can wreck havock with one's self esteem and sex life.  I'm 3 years out from my diagnosis and deal with these issues on a daily basis.  Ofcourse I'm happy to be alive, but as a young, active person, I also would like to hear from other survivors who have experienced the same issues.  Please don't dismiss the OP's or anyone else's questions or concerns with a flippant "Mary Sunshine" response.  We're all happy to "still be breathing" but would like some support and help for the rest of our hopefully long post BC lives.  Good luck to you. 

Kate33 - it's funny you mention the book.  I believe that is my calling.  I believe God sent me on this journey so I could help other's with life after cancer.  I believe I am to help other's that face the same challenges I am now. 

I don't know if I am just trying to find reason in my struggles or I truly discovered my calling.

Funny how we reach a time where everyone around us thinks we're back to normal and life can now go on and that's the time that ends up being the hardest emotionally.  We hit that wall that no one else can see.  All we can do is be honest with our friends and family letting them know this "delayed grieving" is experienced by many of us.  I think it helped my DH to know that other women I talked to were feeling the same way.  (And that I wasn't going off the deep end or anything!)  There is comfort in knowing your feelings are shared by others.  And also knowing it won't always be this way.  It's a process.  A long painful sometimes gut wrenching one but you can come out the other side.  I feel I'm almost there and, if not feeling completely whole, at least not completely shattered as I was a year ago.  

Someone shared the following article with me that really helped, too.  Just wanted to pass it on-

Stages of Grief After Losing A Breast

by Becky Zuckweiler

Anticipatory Grief

Grief is an unfolding process that consists of five basic stages. We start the grieving process as soon as we learn that a mastectomy is a possibility and continue grieving long after the surgery is over. Grief for an impending loss is referred to as anticipatory grief

Stage 1

Denial
When we first experience loss we go into the denial stage, during which we may feel shock, disbelief, and numbness. The denial stage is nature's way of cushioning us from the bluntness of reality. Denial allows us to gradually absorb the painful truth. Many women who have grieved the loss of a breast describe their response in the denial stage as hearing the information the doctor is telling them as though the physician is talking about someone else. They find themselves thinking that cancer and mastectomies happen to other people, not them. This response can give you time to intellectually attend to the details, such as making appointments with the surgeon and oncologist, before emotion floods in.

Stage 2

Protest
As our initial shock wears off we move into the protest stage, a phase of intense emotion, including anger, sadness, and confusion. As the facts start to sink in, our thoughts set off an emotional reaction. Our fear of surgery and of cancer is probably foremost in our minds. Before we are even sure we have cancer, we often start to think about dying and leaving our loved ones behind. We feel sad for our kids, our partner, and ourselves. We often feel betrayed and angry with our body. My clients consistently ask me what they did to deserve breast cancer. This is the time during which we tend to blame ourselves or others as we try to make sense of the loss. Anger at God, our doctors, or the relatives who passed on the bad genes is very common during the protest stage. Besides feeling the need to direct our anger at someone; it is also common to engage in unrealistic mental bargaining, such as promising to go to church every Sunday if our breast is spared. This bargaining is a combination of denial and our need to feel that we have some control over the situation. During this time, it is also common to experience physical symptoms from stress, such as diarrhea, constipation, neck and shoulder pain, rest-less sleep, and fatigue. Your stomach may ache or you may find yourself with a splitting headache that makes it hard to think. Your body may seem to be screaming out a message of emotional pain

Stage 3

Disorientation
The third stage of grief is the disorientation stage. This stage is often accompanied by restlessness, confusion, and depression, as we have to change our routines and adjust to the changes the mastectomy has brought. We may also continue to experience the physical symptoms of stress during this stage. Disorientation is very natural after your chest has healed enough to begin to wear more normal clothes and you are feeling strong enough to go out in public. You can't just go to your closet and pick out an outfit like before. Throwing on a bra and a T-shirt is not an option at this point. Now, selecting an outfit means finding a top that your tender chest and restricted arm can tolerate, plus finding a way to fill in the missing breast. You have lost a breast, the freedom to wear a variety of clothes, the movement in your arm, trust in your body, some of your sexuality, restful sleep, and physical comfort, to name a few of your many losses. And even though most of these losses are temporary or become easier with time, making the adjustment to them is likely to cause you to feel confused and disoriented.

Stage 4

Detachment
Following the disorientation stage we move into the detachment stage. During this stage we tend to isolate and withdraw ourselves, and possibly feel resigned and apathetic. It is as though we have to go off quietly by ourselves and sit with our loss. Too much contact with other people at this time often feels like an intrusion and a lot of work. We often feel we need to be left alone in our misery to fully absorb our loss and get used to the fact that a mastectomy has forever changed our life.

Stage 5

Resolution
The last stage of grief is resolution and it is during this stage that we enter a renewed state of reorganization and acceptance. We are not happy about the loss or our breast, but we see that we can live without it. The resolution stage often brings us insight into our life and ourselves that builds character and produce wisdom. During the resolution stage our mood lifts and we find we are able to experience joy again. This is also a time when we become grateful for what we have and want to give back. Volunteerism, such as in breast cancer support organizations, frequently accompanies this last stage of grief. If you give yourself the room to go through the emotions, you will move forward into the resolution stage of grief where you begin to feel acceptance. You will want to take back control of your life by becoming pro-active again. Priorities become redefined and life goals are reestablished. Your overall reaction may actually be a blend of loss and gain. Initially it may have felt like a horrible loss but, as you move through the process, you discover some advantages that come along with your body changes.

Automatic Behavior

There is also something called automatic behavior that often accompanies the grief process. This is what is happening when we don't get our routine behaviors quite right and we start to feel like we are going crazy. As we process our loss we become distracted from life's little details, and this natural preoccupation results in poor concentration while attending to daily tasks. As a result of automatic behavior you may find yourself putting the cereal into the refrigerator and the milk into the cupboard, squeezing a tube of skin cream instead of toothpaste onto your toothbrush, or seeing that the traffic light has turned red but not really registering it, and driving right through. Your short-term memory will also be affected because good concentration is required for the memory to work well. Do not panic over these lapses. They are temporary. However, it is helpful to remember that automatic behavior can occur during the grief process, so you can safeguard yourself. When you set out to drive, remind yourself that you are prone to poor concentration and constantly remind yourself to tune into the "here and now." During this time you should stay away from dangerous machinery until you feel your focus and concentration return.

Each of you will go through the grief process in your own way. The stages of grief are meant to give a general description of the grief process, but in reality they are not as clean-cut as I have described. You will move back and forth through the various stages and can experience more than one stage at a time.

The significance you attach to your loss will determine how long your grieving process will last and how intensely you will feel it. Grief from losing a small purchase you just made may last only minutes, whereas a significant loss such as the death of a close friend, a divorce, or a house burning down may take years. Significant losses are often brought to mind by special events and seasons associated with the loss and these triggers can create new emotional pain. Most women take about two years before they report feeling fairly resolved about the loss of a breast. Your most intense grieving will probably happen close to the time of your surgery but you will likely continue to experience some grief from your mastectomy for the rest of your life. You may feel that you have just started to accept your loss just when something else seems to set it off again. It may be three years later, when you are faced with having to find an evening dress for an elegant wedding that you suddenly feel the tears bubbling up again. You may want to scream and stamp your feet at the unfairness of only being able to consider a quarter of the dresses because of the changes to your body. Twenty years after your surgery your best friend or daughter may be diagnosed with breast cancer and you may find yourself reliving some of your own pain as you walk through the process with her. All of these feelings are normal. Every woman grieves in her own way and in her own time.