Made it through... ?

Almost two months after finishing treatment, I'm really starting to comprehend what I went through.

Two surgeries.

Five months of chemo

Eight weeks of radiation.

Losing my father.

Ending a relationship.

Starting a new drug for the next five years.

And I'm here.

I don't know how I got here.

Going through treatment, especially chemo, I just put my head down and got through it because I didn't know what else to do. You don't really have a choice. Chemo or let the cancer come back and grow.

Walking to the bus stop the past few days,  I was thinking about how during chemo I almost couldn't make that two block walk. I would have to stop and rest after a block. And just climbing up the stairs to my apartment, I would have to stop and rest. Days and days and weeks and weeks of not being able to get off the couch. I made myself try to live as normal a life as possible. I was very grateful to have the Filmmaker there and it helped me find energy to know he would be on the other end of the bus route when I got there and that he would take care of me. But looking back, I don't know how I did it. How I survived.

There were days through chemo and especially the end of radiation where I just wanted to stop. Just stop. Didn't care about the future because the present was just so fucking hard. 

I don't know how I got through radiation, especially the end when my collarbone was burned and blistered and so incredibly painful, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't sit, I couldn't do much of anything. The wonderful Dan Panosian, one of my comic book mentors, saw me at Drink and Draw as I was at the end of radiation and was so happy to see me, he grabbed me by the shoulder/collarbone area as I was sitting to try and hug me from his standing position. I had to bite back the pain because he was so happy to see me and so sweet to me, I didn't want to let him know that I could feel the pain down to my toes. And the first time I saw the Filmmaker after I walked away was when he brought his daughter to class and as he went to hug me, he tried to compensate for my burns and tried to let me slide into him. But even with that consideration, horrible, horrible pain. It killed me that everyone who hugged me caused me such pain. The one thing I crave is physical interaction and I almost couldn't have that for so long.

The tough thing about making it through is that I'm not through.

Although treatment has ended, I'm still going through it. 

I am on Arimidex, a hormone-suppressing drug, because my cancer is hormone positive and estrogen can make it grow and spread very, very quickly. I'm supposed to be on this for five years. The big side effects are fatigue (big surprise), joint pain and possible mood changes. So far, the joint pain has been minimal. Fatigue I have gotten used to and know how to deal with that. But the biggest problem has been depression. This drug has exacerbated my depression to a degree that I really can't bear it. I tend towards depression as it is and this just doesn't help. And it always leads me to the Filmmaker, because "he" represents so many things I've lost and let go and wish I had back. It's not about him personally, it's about what he meant/means. 

And I don't want to add an antidepressant on to what I'm taking. I just don't want to be depressed. But I'm not sure that discontinuing the drug is a viable option. I don't want my cancer to spread or come back. My lovely friend, http://pinkgoose.wordpress.com/, is dealing with Stage 4 metastatic cancer with such grace and dignity and she has given me so much hope and advice along the way. But I don't want to be there with her. I don't want my friends to have to deal with all of this again, possibly even worse. I want to be healthy. I want to be healed. And this drug is essential for that. However, what kind of life is it if I'm depressed and cannot live the life I want to live.

But I made it through this far, I guess I can make it through whatever comes next.

I've made it through pain, fatigue, depression, suicidal thoughts, death of my father, ending this relationship, sorrow, heartbreak, and loss like I have never felt or could comprehend. 

And I'm here.

But I am not sure where exactly here is. 

I do know that I'll make it through whatever is coming. I'll make it through this drug and its effects and make the decisions I need to make to regain my life. I'll make it through figuring out where to go creatively and professionally, even though right now I can't see it. I'll make it through eventually letting go of my feelings for the Filmmaker and maybe finding someone and losing someone again. 

I know I'll get to the other side of anything because I'm already here.

But here is kind of lonely. Going through treatment, everyone leaps to take care of you, give you comfort, sit with you, bring you food, whatever you need.

After treatment, *crickets* *crickets* *crickets*.

No one understands that you're still dealing, you're still hurting, you're still processing. For months, maybe. I have friends who have been still dealing for years. But without "active" treatment, everyone figures you're fine. And it's not their fault. They don't know. And everyone's always kind and gentle and wonderful when I see them. 

But there are a lot of empty days and empty nights as I try to figure out where "here" is and what it means. And as I try to process what I've gone through and what I'm going through.

But I'll make it through that, too. Because what choice is there? We go on. We make it through. 

Because we have to. To choose life, we have to make it through.

So here I am, through. 

Now, to figure out what all that means...