For almost 18 wonderful years, I’ve had the privilege of building a close relationship with my daughter. Whether in person, or by phone or text, we like to talk about everything and anything. Today she texted me to say how much she missed her friend who just transferred to another school. She was “lonely” and “bored” without her. My response: “Think relaxing thoughts. Be your own best friend. You have to be alone sometimes.”
Her response: “Yeah, I actually tell myself that a lot cuz of eighth grade when I didn’t have friends and that’s what you told me.”
My response: “What did I say?”
Her response: “That I have to be okay with being by myself sometimes.”
Unlike solitude, which we choose, loneliness is a force we have to work with or risk allowing it to swallow us up. I guess I made a point to teach my daughter about being okay with it once in a while because of experiences in my life.
I grew up in a small Cape Cod house with two parents and eight brothers and sisters. Despite the obvious noise and activity, I often felt alone, especially during my teenage years. I was the oldest, a girl (followed in birth order by four brothers) and my youngest sibling was 14 years younger than me. I often existed in a parallel universe very different from the one inhabited by my siblings.
In my adult life, the most lonely experiences accompanied birth and cancer. The day my daughter was born, I was ill all day and ended up in the hospital severely dehydrated. Dehydration led to labor and she was born at 11:46 p.m. Although I was probably food poisoned, my doctor couldn’t rule out infection. To protect my newborn, I wasn’t allowed to touch or hold her. Instead, I spent the night in a room, alone, without my new baby or my husband (who I encouraged to go home to rest.) To this day, almost 18 years later, I remember laying there and thinking, “This certainly didn’t go as planned.” I expected to meet my daughter and have her with me. Instead, my new family was separated and I was alone.
The second experience came after my mastectomy for breast cancer. After six and a half months of diagnostic tests, doctors visits, and finally my surgery, I was bowled over by the emotional impact of it all. My family, so very relieved that I was alive, was happy to move on and put the whole cancer thing behind them. I found myself again living in a parallel universe very much apart from my family. It was a horribly lonely place to be.
The cancer-induced loneliness lasted an entire summer. My wonderful oncology therapist helped me tremendously by letting me express my sadness and building anger. With her help, I was eventually able to make my family understand that I needed them to be where I was – that cancer was not yet over for me.
Life teaches us that we have to handle being by ourselves sometimes. It’s an important lesson to learn, but cancer-induced loneliness is bigger than that and not something we should accept as another loss of cancer. If you are finding yourself still struggling after cancer treatment, while others around you are only too happy to put your cancer behind them, get support anywhere you can. Seek out others who understand how you feel and with whom you can share your feelings. My therapist helped me carry the overwhelming weight of my loneliness that summer. I shudder to think what would have happened if I had been forced to carry it alone.
Have you or are you still dealing with the loneliness of life after cancer? What has helped you deal with it?
Image courtesy of Artúr Herczeg
Comments

great post!
Debbie, this is a great post. It speaks to that unspeakable experience of everyone around us moving on while we are still stuck in the silence of cancer. I love your line,”I was eventually able to make my family understand that I needed them to be where I was – that cancer was not yet over for me.” Can I ask how you did that? That is the tricky part!
-Renn

GREAT Indeed!
Cancer is a solo journey. And at the five year post surgery mark, it’s over for everyone, but it’s not over for me. Today was proof. It was oncology follow up day. There is a photo on my blog page. A picture is worth a thousand words. Yes, I feel very alone unless I’m with a “sister” ….. I believe that’s why the twitter community and the bloggers have such a “sacred” bond with one another. We all “get it.” ….. Timely entry for me. Thanks, Deb.
AnneMarie

AnneMarie, I need to read
AnneMarie, I need to read your blog post!
Debbie, I’m still in the trenches, not done with surgery yet (mine has been a protracted journey, like many), but I find that people (friends and family, not all, but some) think that because I found it early and had a BMX that I am “cured” now and my recon troubles are my only concern. I have been surprised at how readily people retract back into their comfortable world. Thank goodness for blogging! 😉
It’s really a much bigger problem than just me and my immediate circle. My solution has been to blog about it.

Thanks, Debbie
I have a wonderful and supportive family. I see a therapist a couple of times a month and I have a yoga instructor who provides me with “the best hour of my week.” There are times I need to be alone or be in the company of a sister (who is not also my REAL sister or my mother, either!). That is how the blog came about and the volunteering that was borne of the blogging and I treasure each and every person I have met along the way. Thank you for welcoming me into the blog world and into the twitter family! This makes me realize I’m truly NEVER alone unless I choose to be….. there’s always someone with whom I can connect since our gang is literally all around the world!!! Your kindness means more than I can express. Happy you are part of my life!

Ready, but not really ready to move on
I’m recovering from my exchange surgery now, dealing with the fact that it isn’t the breeze I thought it would be. I have days where I really do feel like it ‘s behind me (I love to say that cancer lost its battle with me!) , but there are days like today where I hurt and am dragging and just feel like everyone around me thinks I should be back to normal. There’s a part of me that feels like I’m letting them down. My husband says and does all of the right stuff, but I feel like I’m just a drag on him.
I think that what gets to me is that I will never be the same person I was before cancer, but only people who have had cancer “get” that. Sometimes I feel so up and positive and other days not. I wonder of part of that is the Farosten (like Tamoxifen).

Lonely during treatment
It’s such an interesting perspective, Debbie. I can only imagine how it must have felt after having given birth to your daughter. Personally, I felt lonely during my chemotherapy – I felt separated from those around me, even my husband at time, and it was hard to realize no one could take my place. The journey was mine alone, and that itself was difficult. (And can still be difficult.)
~Catherine

The Loneliness of Cancer
I am so glad I came across your blog. I was told No Evidence of disease last month. I am happy and so is my family, but the same thing they now are glad to put it behind them. I still see and feel it everyday. Somedays I’m up and at running around other days I’m so tired and all my bones ach. I feel like I’m more of a burden now that I should be me again but I just can’t find me. I think I cry more now then when I was going through all the diagnostics and treatment. where do I go now….

Your blog
Thank you so much for your blog. I couldn’t figure out why I was feeling so down. I had a mastectomy four months ago and was lucky enough not to have chemo or radiation. Someone said to me “you must feel like you won the lottery” … and yet all I feel is sadness. I am now realizing that it is survivor’s guilt and the loneliness as you said that my family is moving on. Thank you for the simple way you have described it and posted it for all to see … it is wonderful to know I’m not alone.

Loneliness of cancer
This blog has been very supportive. I had a lumpectomy and radiation. And was told how lucky I was. 3 months after treatment finished I was diagnosed with a rare uterine sarcoma and early endometrial cancer. Surgery was the treatment. No chemo or rads. Again I was told I was lucky they were found early. I don’t feel lucky. With a 70% chance of recurrence I feel scared.
My family behave as though I ought just move on.
I have a social worker I can talk to. But I still feel very alone.

Desperate lonliness
Thank you so much for your words. I have a type of cancer that is incurable. It doesn’t respond to treatment so I have to live with it the rest of my life, feeling vulnerable all the time. I am a single mom with two young kids. I literally do not have one person in my life that I can vent to. The responses I get are…but you look so good, you should find more joy in life, and you’re so brave. It seems when I pretend that all is well, people gravitate towards me but the moment I show any sign of sadness or weakness they can’t get away from me fast enough. This goes for friends and family. I do not know what to do with this heartbreak. Even the therapist I go to tells me to find the bright side, its all in my perspective. Today, I don’t trust people and to be honest, their hypocritical states of being disgust me. I think the lack of compassion and loneliness will do me in bfore the cancer does.

Ovarian Cancer Survivor
This was a great post…I had my surgery in 1999 and was diagnosed with a Stage 1 A tumor that grew to be the size of a soccer ball before they took it out. Fortunately it did not metastasize and I did not need radiation or chemo.That was wonderful news physically, but emotionally I never did find a resource to lean on though I made quite a few attempts before just giving up and telling myself to get over it. I wish I would have found a support group to help as I did not get understanding from my family members who had never dealt with cancer themselves before or since my diagnosis. The worst response was from my daughter (in her 20’s) when she said she didn’t believe that I ever really had cancer or I would have had to have had chemo or radiation. She lives out of state and never had a chance to talk with the doctors, but really that is no excuse for her response. The only reason I can think of for her reaction is that it is more comfortable to live in denial. No one in my family ever celebrated my ten year survival mark which was a big deal for me. Too many people assume that surgery solves everything…

breast cancer and loneliness
I feel very alone because I don’t know anyone else with cancer and I work a job that leaves practically no time to socialize. I work nights and weekends and cannot go to dances anymore or feel like dating because I am too tired from work and cancer treatments. I imagine this will someday all be in the past, but it is a rough place to be right now. Any advice that you can give me?

Cancer and Financial Toll
I had a complete colectomy, chemo & rad, permanent Ostomy. In addition to wrapping my brain around all that, I was left in financial ruin. At the age of 55 no less. I take meds for depression & anxiety. I’m working full time living check to check. I feel alienated from my family & friends, the financial toxicity is about as overwhelming as the cancer & surgery. I see a therapist now & then, yet I can’t seem to put myself back together and it’s been 4 years. I feel like giving up. A lot. Anyone else left feeling like this?
Help?
My cancer was found fairly early. I had surgery last December and will start my last round of chemo next week. I tested positive for BRCA2 and will have to have a BMX later this year. My kids act so angry–and already saying things like, Well you are almost done, which feels very dismissive. This has been the loneliest journey of my life (I’m single, so no support of that kind. Had anyone else dealt with children who act like my cancer is the supreme imposition on them?
Get Support Any Way You Can
Carrie:
I’m so sorry you’re going through this. You don’t mention how old your kids are, but I’m sure they’re hurt and scared too about your cancer. Sometimes people who don’t know how else to react to our cancer, react badly. And kids can be especially selfish when it comes to mom, because we’re always suppossed to be there for them. Please take care of yourself by finding a support group or therapist at your cancer center, or by calling the Cancer Hope Network. You need to speak to someone who understands what you’re going through. Get support anyway you can. You deserve it.
Good luck,
Debbie