(Nimue)
Here we are at the end of Keith's six week cancer treatment. Both of us worn and tired, both of us doing far better than anyone expected. I'm not going to be talking much about Keith's experiences - he's shared that with friends on Facebook, I've been bringing things to the blog that we both thought might be useful to other people.
Ahead of Keith's treatment we were both worried about how I would cope. My mental health has been a lot better since we've been living together, but this was always going to be a very stressful thing to get through and there was the risk it would wipe out whatever had fixed me. We did not know what exactly had made the critical differences. We know now. I went into this afraid that my mental health issues would make me a liability. What I've learned has been really surprising.
I had a few wobbles along the way but no more than you'd really expect from a person whose beloved is dealing with cancer. I was an asset, not an additional problem. I was able to do a lot to keep Keith's spirits up and to help him cope. My experience of physical illness, depression and anxiety meant I had knowledge to draw on that proved useful. I know how to push through difficult things.
I've had to radically reassess who I think I am. I've turned out to be strong, resilient and supportive, not the fragile nuisance I thought I was. This is a very big deal for me in terms of self-esteem, confidence, and my ability to trust myself.
In the past there were a lot of years when I suffered burnout, meltdowns, overwhelming depression, overwhelming panic and ongoing distress. I thought that was me. I thought that was because of historic trauma, failure to recover, intrinsic weakness, and that there was nothing anyone could possibly do about it. I used to have appalling mental health collapses at least once a month, it was exhausting and horrible. The last few months have been stressful and difficult. I have had panic attacks and there have been slides into depression, but nothing I couldn't handle. A pretty reasonable response to the circumstances. I'm not the mad, broken person I thought I was.
I've found out what makes the most critical difference and what it is I can't do without. I struggle a lot with being under-stimulated. I need physical contact for my brain to function properly. I just need to be held. Maybe more than average, but not a preposterous amount. If I have a panic attack, and I'm held, I calm down. If I'm depressed, and I'm held, I cope. It's absolutely reliable. After many years of struggling, it is a surprise to me to discover that the answers to my issues are so simple.I'm not the difficult, high maintenance person I thought I was.
Keith is the sort of person who, facing cancer treatment, worried about everyone else. He's a remarkably kind and thoughtful soul, and was determined that I would not get into difficulty while all this was going on for him. Between us, we figured out what it takes to keep me entirely well and functional - precious insight that changes everything for me. From here we have ongoing work to do keeping him well and dealing with recovery and whatever comes next. This is a five year process, at least. Still, a corner has been turned and from here we're very much focused on what we can do, and not just for each other.
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