Angela Foster4 said:I guess I'll join this thread too. It’s 6:00 AM and I can't sleep; I'm just awake again, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything in my head over and over.
I was looking for some kind of support for people dealing with cancer and their families, but I couldn't find much for a long time. Then I stumbled upon this forum and this specific topic, so I decided to register. My mom was diagnosed with lung cancer seven months ago—Stage 4, which has already metastasized to her brain. She had 14 metastases, though thankfully they've shrunk a bit due to radiation.
No one in my family has ever had cancer; we really only knew about it through movies or TV shows. My whole world collapsed, and honestly, it still feels that way. There are better days and worse ones, but mostly it feels like everything has just stopped, like our entire little universe has been swallowed by this disease. Mom has already undergone cranial radiation and she's been switching between different types of chemo, and the illness has changed everything.
Her life... I see every single day how she’s becoming the one thing she feared most in life: helpless. Our relationship has changed drastically, and not for the better. In movies, you usually see people drawing closer during times like this, but we've actually drifted apart.
She’s withdrawn into herself; she's become quite negative and listless. Meanwhile, I'm fighting my own demons—anxiety and all sorts of intrusive thoughts about the future—while she fights a cancer that is slowly consuming her. No matter how hard I try to be there for her in the ways I know how, she isn't satisfied with me, and all our common ground has just evaporated. I don't blame her, though. She's in pain every day, barely able to walk, and she's lost so much weight in the last two months that her skin just hangs off her. She deals with intense pain and nausea. Some days are so bad she just stays in bed.
This isn't living. This has nothing to do with life. For all of us, life has just become a waiting game for maybe a slightly better tomorrow. It’s hard, because even during the moments when she feels okay, she’s different. We don't laugh anymore, we don't enjoy anything; she’s become sharp with everything, and I just miss her tenderness. I'm an only child, and I just miss my mom—the version of her I could laugh with, goof around with, talk about nonsense or philosophy... anything.
It's difficult to handle all of this because she is suffering so much, and I don't know how to deal with these massive life shifts or where to look for something better. On top of everything, I've isolated myself from people who are more curious than they are concerned—so-called friends and acquaintances. So here I am, alone at 6:00 AM during sleepless nights, typing this here in the hope of meeting good people who are going through something similar. I realized my head feels like a balloon lately; I spend too much time alone with my own thoughts.
Not long before her diagnosis, I ended a serious relationship and dealt with a personal tragedy, and then the cancer hit... it's just been a downward spiral.
Her condition is terminal. I just want her to have quality of life for whatever time is left, rather than just quantity.
My biggest fear is when the end comes. I'm terrified that we aren't close anymore. Because of this cancer, she has changed, distanced herself, and grown cold, even on the "good" days. I'm scared of it all, but it's hard to share this with anyone else who might actually understand, since I've always been so close to my mother.
I'm also scared that I won't be able to endure this. I feel like the burden is getting heavier and heavier. It's hard to stay occupied 24/7 since I'm not working right now, and like I said, I'm struggling with my own anxiety, which is a whole other story. I've pushed away people who tire me out with superficial stories about themselves; it just drains my energy. I think this first post is more about me than about my mom, and part of me feels selfish for that, but then I think, no, I'm not—I'm just a human being, and this is a genuinely brutal period in my life. I'm looking for support and understanding, and that seems natural enough. I hope I'm right.
P.S. Honestly, it took everything I had just to get this typed out, but here we go. I’ve been lurking and reading through your posts, and I have to say, I’m impressed by everyone's courage and grit. Sending strength, faith, and good vibes to all of you—and hoping for a quick recovery for your loved ones. ♥
I’d highly suggest picking up "On Death and Dying" by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross. It’s based on psychological studies regarding what people actually go through at the end. One of the stages of dying involves anger and rage, and I suspect that might be where your mom is right now. After that comes (I think) acceptance of their condition. If you look at it through that lens, maybe you won't feel like she's rejecting you or doesn't care... Hang in there.
