I had Hodgkins Lymphoma in 2017. I was 28.
Chemotherapy and Radiotherapy was brutal.
It was the worst thing that my family has ever had to ever go through.
One of the hardest things of that time was that I spent most conversations telling people outside of my family (who were genuinely worried) that:
“Everything was going to be ok”
“It’s not that bad”
“It’s going to be fine.”
I did this because I could see how much finding out about my cancer affected other people.
I didnt want to alienate myself by making people uncomfortable, or make people want to avoid me at risk of them having to have an “awkward conversation”
I told everyone I was fine.
Even when I was bald, and cried every time I looked in the mirror.
Even when I was super sick after chemotherapy.
Even when I was filled with so much anxiety that I couldn’t sleep.
Even when I would pace up and down the hallway of my house so agitated from the chemicals running through my veins from chemotherapy a day or two prior, trying not to scream.
Even when I didn’t feel like it, I put on a happy face and was ok.
I felt like an asshole if I was to express that I was sad. Like I was “making a big deal of it” or like I was an attention seeker.
From the point I got cancer I filmed video diaries when I needed to vent. I never showed anyone. Halfway through treatment I stopped doing the video diaries because it felt too self indulgent.
I feel like that now even if I bring it up or talk about it.
When I finished up treatment. My hair started growing back. Everyone was able to act like I was fine, but it started to hit me. Almost as if it were ptsd. I felt so uncomfortable, I couldn’t figure out why.
I was full of anger and anxiety.
When I wasn’t in control of situations I would get highly agitated, I would get so mad.
When my life wasn’t moving forward I would get angry, I felt like I was wasting the precious time I had been given back.
I still get these feelings.
Within 2 weeks of getting a pain in my chest and finding out I had cancer, I had started chemotherapy. Within that same year I finished treatment and was in remission. All of that time I had spent telling everyone it was going to be ok, pushing my real feelings to the back of my mind, ignoring my own needs.
People had moved on. People were sick of hearing about it. I saw peoples eyes glaze over on the rare occassion I brought up cancer. To everyone else that journey was over. For me, after only being able to focus on survival for so long, it felt like the overall gravity of my situation, everything I had been through, was just starting to affect me.
And I struggled really hard for the next couple of years. Everything worried me.
I worried about money, being a freelance filmmaker, no one had wanted to hire me during my treatment. When I was bald and sick I probably looked like I would die on set. I now had to make back alot of income.
I worried about my future. What about the toll the treatment had taken on my body? The other risks, heart disease, other cancers, shorter life expectancy?
I worried about my wife. She had been through it all with me, how had it affected her? We had wanted to have a baby prior to me getting cancer. Now we were going to have to wait for 2 years after the treatment for the all clear to try. We were both getting older. Time was ticking. What if it was too late? What if we did have a baby and then cancer came back? I wanted to buy a house before we had a baby too… otherwise I worried we would never be able to reach that goal. I had only worked extremely rarely for 8 months and blown through savings. How was I going to get a house deposit?
Most of all, I worried about the time I had left. I still do. Quite often in my life I’ve felt like a loser, a failure. It drives me forward but it’s also an incredibly somber force to have lingering in the background.
The darkest thought I had after treatment, and which still pops into my mind every now and then is:
“I wish that cancer had actually killed me so I wouldn’t have to worry about failing anymore”.
The noise in my head was so loud. The anxiety was so stifling. I had suicidal thoughts creep in frequently.
I reached a point where I couldn’t take it anymore. I talked to my checkup doctors at the PA hospital where I was treated and they recommended that I got in contact with The Cancer Council. Apparently there were free counselling sessions.
Initially I felt like I shouldn’t do the counselling sessions because my cancer was over (I was 18 months in remission) and I’d be taking away an opportunity from someone who was going through treatment and in need of them. This is apparently a very common thing for survivors to feel. I’m glad I did them because it gave me a lot of useful tools to understand what my brain was doing. I didn’t think counselling would be as effective as it actually was.
I pushed through further after the initial counselling. I kept meditating and using the tools that were offered.
Everything has been good.
Last year, in March, with my son 2 weeks away from being born and the pandemic wreaking havoc on our lives and my work, I had a anxiety relapse, back to when I got cancer. I was once again feeling out of control of my life and it gave me the extreme feeling I had when I was diagnosed.
From the outside you can’t pick it, but Anxiety has been a stronghold on my life and even with psychology and counselling, it was still a bit too much.
I decided to talk to my doctor about going on anti anxiety medication and I went back to a psychologist.
I take half a dose every day, and it’s been the little extra buffer I need to get full control over my thoughts.
For the last year I’ve been able to feel like everything is looking up for good. My wife and I had a beautiful baby boy, my filmmaking career has moved from strength to strength, we bought a house in Brisbane, and we’ve just recently moved from our home town of Brisbane to start a new life with bigger career opportunities for me in Sydney. I now make opportunities happen instead of waiting.
I’m glad I got cancer.
It sounds like the craziest thing to say but I am 100% about that statement. It’s given me more drive in my personal and professional life. I feel like it gave me a moment to think about how precious and fleeting our lives are. Cancer gave me that realisation in my late 20’s. Most people don’t get it until its too late. I now have the opportunity to make the most out of the rest of my life.
There is help out there – make sure you use it. Get in touch with the organisations like Lymphoma Australia; see your GP; find a counsellor. It all helps.
Liam Brennan
CINEMATOGRAPHER // FILMMAKER
www.liamedwardbrennan.com
Liam shares his story as part of our Lymphoma Awareness Month in September.
You too can get involved and help raise awareness of Australia’s number 1 blood cancer.
GO LIME & help make a difference to the lives of patients like Liam.
