Depression, Honesty, a Co-Survivor’s story

I don't know how to start. I don't know what message to lead with … last week what started out as a week full of joy quickly turned into a silent backward spiral into my depression. That’s the thing about depression, it’s always waiting for you to struggle. Anytime trauma is brought up naturally a human becomes vulnerable and this time the flood gates opened. Everything I have learned and taught myself about healthy mindspace was tested. This past week I received a hateful message where I was told I should “be ashamed of myself” for not including members of our immediate family in my “co-survivor” blog post. They told me to be ashamed of my very real feelings. Sit with that point of view for a second. 

Let me start off by saying I am extremely grateful for all of the love, support, prayers, vibes, everything any human being on this planet has done for my family over the course of my cancer journey.  I have always tried to express that gratitude. If I tried to make a list of people I was thankful for I would never finish it. It’s a revolving door. I chose to highlight 9 people last week who are currently supporting me. People who never took a break despite their own life events. They deserve to be praised and singled out. Their actions deserve to be shared because a lot of people don’t know what to do when they have a loved one diagnosed with a serious medical condition. I guess it’s just something you don’t know till you know, kind of thing. So since I know, I will share.

To the people reading my post, my “audience”…. My true hope is that you read my stories as an example to live by or lessons to be learned. Maybe read something that makes you braver in your own journey. Maybe it helps you be a better friend to your friends. I have no idea, I am learning to not marry the end result of things I choose to do in my life. Point being if you don’t like what all this is, please don’t read it. I might not be an effective part of your life. I might not be something you need. And I don’t take offense to that. 

Sharing my blogs is about healing for me. It’s about maybe saving someone the heartaches I have been through. I’m 32 years old. I had a baby when I was 18 and then went through a malicious year long custody battle with someone I thought loved me. I lost an extremely close friend to suicide at 20, I thought he knew how much he was loved. I was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 29, just when I thought I was learning to love myself. I’m currently living as a 32 year old woman in menopause and left with holes where my boobs used to be, trying to love the life God gave me. I feel like I have shit to say. And if one person reads it or 500 people read it, I can heal from my trauma because I did what I thought was right. I told MY TRUTH. It’s my story. I try to be raw and honest but I also live in a small town and have a huge family. I know there is a chance when I choose to be honest it might end up hurting someone’s feelings. But as I shared in my “Time to break the silence” blog, if I keep quiet to save others from pain I AM HURTING MYSELF. 

 During my cancer journey I asked my best friend Kodi to keep some notes and write her own feelings about things she watched me go through. That is what is below. After the turn of events last week brought I went back and read things I had been through. Reminded myself how far I have come. This one hit home. It said all things I needed it to. It says things I think a lot of other "people like me" wish they'd have the strength to say. With NO edits since it was written, please enjoy a co-survivors story. Take what you need, and leave the rest for others. Xo 

Wednesday November 17, 2021

Written by Kodi Fletcher

Have you ever felt the lump in your best friend’s breast? Did you have to worry while she was put on a waiting list? Tell me, when her scans finally came back, did she call you, so she didn’t have to say it out loud yet? I have, and from that day forward the story was changed. 

Hey, It’s Kodi! I know if you’re a reader you’ve seen the name. But let me give ya’ a little personal back story. I grew up in a strict family. Attending private school, I didn’t have a lot of good friends. But I would find some here and there from church activities or 4-H events. Honestly, I’m not sure how I got roped in this group I was hanging with at the time, but per usual, they weren’t very kind. We had plans to hang out, and well, they ditched me. However, there was an angel in the crowd. Emily had personally never met me, but didn’t appreciate that they blew me off. So she came to hang out with me instead. We watched a Youtube video on how to braid my hair for the cow-show the following morning. And well… we’ve been best friends ever since. Since then we’ve been through every possible scenario together. (I will save you the recap of all these priceless memories that truly only mean something to me and would possibly get us in some sort of trouble to bring it up haha)  

But when the C word finally was said… it changed everything. This human I have grown to love every single aspect of, was now, different. It was just different. I’d never seen my extremely mature and confident best friend have that look on her face or had I heard that crack in her voice before. I knew in a second that I had to be the safe place for her. She was maintaining her strength with everyone else. Her mind was on her children, her family. My mind was on her and on her mental health. I had to be the safe place for her to fall apart, if needed. My first words were something like… “oh..my..god..” and “this is the universe telling you to sit the fuck down” because really, what else was I going to say? And that my friends, has been my struggle since. 

“You’re strong.” …” You’re healthy” …blah freaking blah. I realize most of your momma’s taught you “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all”. Mine too!! That’s why I too struggled on what to say. But I’ll tell you – it wasn’t telling someone with CANCER that they were healthy. My goodness. So, I’ve learned to tell the truth instead. Now I say things like “This fucking sucks.” Because even saying “I’m sorry” feels like I’m referring to myself too much. Because you know they’ll respond with something like “Oh, it’s not YOUR fault”. The first person that told me they had cancer after Emily’s diagnosis, I did just that. I didn’t apologize - I got on her level, spoke the “it sucks” words, and she was so relieved. Her response “It does fucking suck”. Wow!!! I bet that was the first time that particular woman had said that out loud because she too, was more worried about her family than herself.  I get it. Most everyone has this draw to reach out and say some nice things. I don’t want to nag on that. I just want to point out from a different perspective, that sometimes the naive support words hurt more than it helps. Sometimes being respectful isn’t necessarily kind. 

I assure you however, that this has not been easy. I constantly struggle on what to say. It’s a very real struggle of being the hype-girl and keepin’ it real. I have a very real appreciation for the female body. I can admit it…everyone likes boobs, come on! So, getting a first row ticket to watch your best friend become so vulnerable has been a blessing and a curse. Cutting her hair…wow. That was an intimate freaking moment for me. Like wow… I watched her birth a human. WHAT!! That blew my mind. But standing over her, staring at her in the mirror, as I cut her hair. Life-changing. Spending chemo nights at her house – watching that fun-loving mom just not be able to do it tonight. Sitting in the chair next to her while they injected her body with poison that would save her.  Watching her look at her body after surgery for the first time - to see the female body in such a raw state. Friends, I CAN NOT put that one into words. That is a moment that will forever be in my mind. I sat outside the bathroom door and listened to her sob. I wasn’t sad for her. She needed to let it out. She needed to wash away all those feelings and struggles from her mind. I sat there and genuinely thought to myself “I want to remember this moment forever.” This beautiful human vessel, fresh from this traumatic surgery, in her most vulnerable state could never be put into words. I want to show that body grace for the rest of her life. 

But the story has changed. Things are drastically different than they were last year. I can honestly say that this was the worst year of my whole life. There were multiple reasons for this, and obviously Emily’s diagnosis had a huge part in that. But let me just brag on the fact that while my best friend was going through the worst days of her life, she still has made it a point to check in on me!! We got into a very good habit of asking each other if we need “comfort or solution”. This gives us both a space to be saved, or just bitch. We try to ask if the other has the mental capacity to listen to the other's complaints. Which I can honestly say- she has never turned that down for me! Can you imagine: you’re sick from chemo, mad at your body, tired, and just sick and tired of being sick and tired. And here comes Kodi-  with something else going on. Because I can NOT. And yet, here she is still taking care of me. 

Selfishly, this time has brought us closer. The deep conversations and bonding moments we have had these last 10 months are ones I will carry with me the rest of my life. This experience (from my perspective) has changed the whole story. I don’t see things the same at all. Good, bad, or indifferent, all things are new. Reading this back to myself, sounds so cliché; but how does a “near death experience” not change your life? Because you all realize that, right? She was dying… and that’s a whole other conversation to have. But I think people forget that, because breast cancer can be curable. Butttttt YOU DON’T KNOW THAT! Especially while you’re going through it. The “what if'' is deafening. ESPECIALLY if you’re Emily and worry about everything. 

And there the struggle is. Do you hype her up, or crawl in bed and cry too? I’m still learning that it’s a balance of both. Support is necessary. LIKE SO IMPORTANT. Watching her struggle mentally is hands down the hardest part. Not seeing her support from those she finds important is hard. Seeing the posts from naive people saying kind, yet disrespectful things, is hard. Knowing that the resources out there aren’t what she needs specifically is hard. Knowing her and the brave face she puts on is hard. That’s why I believe in the blog so much! It’s raw, vulnerable, andreal. I have a feeling that someone reading these feels the exact same way Emily is feeling. I believe she isn’t alone. I know the mental struggle is real. I’ve seen it. And this is just the beginning to Emily’s journey of providing the resources you may need. The unseen struggle is the hardest.

So, my sweet friend reading that is struggling- YOU ARE NOT ALONE!!!! I see you. This fucking sucks! I am pretty territorial of my bestie, but I know you need us too! And we are here  

And to my naive friends reading- remember what is kind, isn’t always respectful. 

Xoxox