I’ve spoken before about my cancer journey (you can read it here), but this post focuses on my mental health struggles after my latest diagnosis and how this affected me physically.

I want to share this deeply personal experience not only to open up about myself but also to remind others going through similar challenges that they aren’t alone. There is light ahead, even when it’s impossible to see.

Nothing prepared me for this

I attended a pre-assessment a week before my surgery, which was designed to prepare me physically for what was coming. But nothing prepared me for the significant toll the 11 days in hospital would have on my mental health. Despite the operation itself being a success, I somehow had to process the fact that I had just had 30 % of my tongue removed and reconstructed using tissue from my forearm. Even when I read that sentence back, I shake my head because it still feels surreal that this even happened to me.

After a 12 hour operation, I was kept in a medically induced coma until the following day. I was kept in ICU for 2 days and was in the hospital for a total of 11 days after my operation. Due to COVID restrictions, visitation was limited to one person, for one hour per day. It was incredibly lonely and isolating. I felt sad, low, hopeless and the uncertainty about my recovery overwhelmed me. I constantly worried about what would happen to me – would I be able to speak normally again? Would I ever enjoy eating again? Would this change my appearance forever? Would my husband still love me? The negative thoughts were relentless.

Not having my loved ones there to encourage me day-to-day made things exponentially harder. My family home was only 15 minutes away and the thought of everyone there while i was in hospital, sent me into a very low mental state. I felt like I was facing it all alone and all I wanted was to be home. I even googled what would happen if I discharged myself against the Dr’s will because I was desperate to get out of the hospital. I was not thinking straight and just wanted out, no matter the cost.

Life In The Dark Hole

After a month of healing at home, it was decided that I had Radiotherapy (for precautionary measures). Before this started I was back in hospital to have a PEG installed. This is a feeding tube inserted directly into your stomach which liquid food can be administered should I not be able to eat during/after Radiotherapy. This procedure was pretty traumatic and within a week I was in A&E bleeding out.

After 6 weeks of Radiotherapy, I had indeed stopped eating due to the ulcers on my tongue caused by radiation burns. Ironic really, seeing as an ulcer on my tongue was how I got here in the first place. I was waking every morning feeling nauseous and on some days I was running to the bathroom to throw up. This was every single day for around 2 months, progressively getting worse. I lost a lot of weight because I was just not eating. No way did I think this had anything to do with my mental health.

Before long, I struggled getting out of bed, stopped brushing my hair, or caring for myself. I found myself zoning out and staring into space. I lost all enthusiasm for things I once loved and just silenced everything around me. Despite my loving husband’s encouragement, I refused to leave the house or see anyone. I didn’t want to speak, talk or think. I didn’t even want to be here. I just wanted to go away, away from this pain.

My family kept trying, but I had withdrawn completely. I was convinced I was damaged beyond repair and I was now a burden to others. I was trapped inside my own mind of catastrophising situations and felt there was no way I could ever feel better. No one understood how I felt. No one was listening to the little girl screaming inside for help!

Seeking Help

After finding no relief from meditating, walking outside, podcasts or talking to family (the normal advice dished out from the internet), I eventually called my GP and explained everything I had been going through. I unexpectedly broke down on the phone, crying my eyes out to the Doctor because I just could not take feeling like this any longer. I wasn’t living my life, I was suffering and this was the first time I had actually asked for help.

After listening, I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression with my doctor prescribing a low dose of antidepressant medication. While it took a couple of weeks to take effect, I started to feel the heavy cloud lifting, the constant nausea stopped, and things finally seemed to be improving. However, this relief only lasted a week before all of the physical effects came back with a vengeance. This time I didn’t waste a second and returned to my doctor, who adjusted my medication dosage. This is the dosage I am currently on and it has changed my life massively.

I Didn’t Want To Be A Statistic

I had a wonderful upbringing. I was loved by my parents and was raised in a loving home. All my memories were good ones. I had experienced no childhood trauma and apart from my parents divorcing at an early age, there was no reason for me to suffer bad mental health, right? Falling into that group did not happen to people like me. I just deal with whatever life hands me and I move on.

I’ve always considered myself a resilient person, having dealt with two previous cancer diagnoses. But nothing could have prepared me for the overwhelming depression that struck this time. I have since found out (through multiple therapy sessions) that I had not processed any of my previous trauma related to my other two cancer diagnoses and everything that happened during those times. Turns out sweeping trauma under the carpet is not the best thing to do. Who would have thunk it?!?! Not processing properly well and truly bit me in the ass this time round!

Once I started to build my confidence back up, I opened up to friends and family about my mental health struggles. To my amazement, many shared their own experiences, including being on long-term antidepressants. How did I not know this? And why did I ever think they would think differently of me because of this?

This whole situation has made me passionate about speaking openly to break the stigma around mental health. Just as we make accommodations for physical injuries to heal, we need to recognise the validity of mental health conditions and allow time for recovery. When you have a poorly mind, it is difficult for people to fully understand the daily struggles we are subjected to. While we can listen without judgment and vulnerably share our own experiences, we must also avoid taking on others’ problems as our own and find a balance of empathy while still maintaining healthy boundaries.

The Road to Recovery Is Bumpy AF

While medication and therapy played a crucial role, my road to recovery has been gradual, with many ups and downs. I’ve learned to pay close attention to my needs and make adjustments at the first signs of decline. I’m so gentle with myself now, especially on bad days. I celebrate small wins and milestones and fully understand that my recovery isn’t linear. I adapt my days, whether that means taking time off work, scheduling a therapy session, or reaching out to loved ones, I now act quickly to prevent spiraling again. Healing from depression takes time and is a lifetime of learning to love yourself. I would be lying if I said I feel myself again, because in all honesty I will probably never be the same again…and that is OK. I am stronger, more resilient and so much more determined.

Immersing myself in my passions has been restorative. Setting up my own Virtual Assistant business and remotely helping others with my expertise gives me a massive sense of purpose. There was a time when I thought I would never be able to work again because who would want to hire a damaged soul, with half a tongue and scars all over her body. I wish I could go back and give a hug to the old me, because man she needed it.

I now focus on living according to my values. I speak up when I see injustice, I am passionate about being the helper, and I nurture my friendships as they mean so much to me.

While I’ll always carry this experience with me for the rest of my life, it has ultimately made me the woman I am today. I have greater empathy and vulnerability, and I am much more determined to live life to the fullest.

This too, Shall Pass

If anything I’ve shared resonates with you and your situation, I want you to know there is light at the end of the tunnel. The darkness will lift, the calm will come and you will find happiness again.

Please reach out to your loved ones, your doctor (preferably both), or even me. You can find me on Instagram or email me (both linked) and share how you feel. You don’t need to go through this alone.

Remember, this too shall pass. As impossible as it seems right now, you can and will make it through this dark time.

Sending love

Natalie xx

PS: Picture of a recent trip to Iceland with my husband where I can see true happiness and peace in my eyes)