I'm still not dead.

Getting knocked down with cancer and brain surgery and not being able to read has definitely made it cut down the amount I write on my blog. That's kind of depressing, now that I'm thinking about it.

I finished the first round of chemo and radiation yesterday, and I guess I was expecting to wake up this morning, feeling just fabulous, and instead when I woke up, all I wanted to do was sleep...and then possibly sleep some more. Knowing that things may never get back to 'normal',to have it smacked in the face aren't exactly the same. So I'm tired, and still feels like shit. Yippy, right?

I can sort of read again now, about a thousand percent more than I could when I came home, at any rate. But what used to be enjoyable, and something I liked to do, now is just tedious and requires so much effort, that I don't even want to, most of the time.

I still have nightmares, and a lot of thing still hurts, even though I don't spend a lot of time telling that to anyone. There isn't really a point, because I keep getting the impression that this might just be the way my life is going to be now.

The truth is that I spend a lot of time crying, when there isn't anyone around to see. I have huge amounts of depression, and would just give up and stop doing anything at all, expect that everyones well-meaning concern. There are so many people who are just so *concerned* about how I'm doing, and how I'm feeling, and want to help, that even if I wanted to go and take a break for a while, and deal with stuff in my own way, they would all be upset, or offended, and the fallout wouldn't be worth it.

So I smile, and I do all the things everyone expects me to do, because it takes less energy than hiding out.

The "me" that I used to be, it's not even in here anymore. Maybe I felt this way the first time I was recovering, but I don't remember how that went. I don't really remember a whole lot about any of it, until I was recovered and felt fine and normal.

And I know that that it's only been three months, and that tumor was a lot bigger this time, and I should expect to have more problems, and I need to be patient, and things will get better. I *KNOW* this. But it's *my* life, and every day that what used to be normal, still doesn't improve, I get a little more pessimistic, and want to just give up.

I wouldn't blame people, the ones who have always read my blog, stopped following it. Pretty much all it's been for the last several months has been whining and complaining about my life, and feeling sorry for myself. I don't have any idea how much longer that's going to be this way.

I wish I knew how long *I* was going to be like this.