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.

...time on my own...

I don't know how to express what I'm thinking, not really. I'm twisted and confused. And I hate it. And I feel like a hypocrite for this sick addiction to you. And that's what it is, too. An addiction to you. I miss you so much. There is this huge empty hole inside of me where you were. Not the twisted "oh god I'm in love with him I need him to complete me or my life will end". It has nothing to do with that. It's the quiet late-at-night, falling asleep as I drifted off something that I can't quite define. *That* is what I miss.

And I can't even explain it. Not even to myself can I explain it. But that great gaping hole is what it is that I'm missing so much, and what hurts so badly, and what it is that's been tearing me up since I sent you away.

And being alone, sending you away? Trying to protect myself from you walking away from me? It hasn't helped, not really. It hurts just as much to have sent you away as it would have if you'd been the one who had walked away. Doesn't that suck.

Meh. Time on my own hasn't shown me anything except that sometimes I'm not the brightest star in the sky.

It isn't as though I was saving myself for marriage because I'd made some stupid pledge. It isn't like I had an obligation to anyone or that I'm violating any special moral code but my own. But I'm addicted and I feel confused, but I don't generally *have* addictions to things. I've always been so proud of that. Because I never had a problem quitting things. I quit smoking without a backwards glance. Even when I used drugs in my misspent youth, I got bored, and walked away, it had no effect on me. But you? I'm addicted to you in a massive way. And that both frightens me, and makes me sad and confused, because it's unfamiliar and depressing.

OK. I'm going to stop writing this now, and go play silly online games to distract myself.

Goodnight internets.

Depression

Depression sucks. Completely, there's no doubt about it. Depression is a soul-sucking, miserable experience. Chronic depression is worse. It's one thing to have a really bad day, and be bummed out about it. But when that one really bad day spirals until you feel as though everything is awful and there's no way out, that's worse. Because no matter how hard you try, looking for the bright side seems impossible.

And that's how my depression works. It's why I have anti-depressants. And I take them when I need to, which keeps me level. But I'd gone off them a couple of months ago, because things had started to run smoothly for me, and life felt great. I had hope. I had goals. I had a lot of things.

But now I've crashed, and I crashed incredibly hard. There's normally a trigger for me. And I know most of my triggers, so I avoid them like the plague. But this time, there seemed to be no specific trigger. It started out as just the blahs, and I didn't notice in time. By the time I realized what was going on, I was completely out of control.

My entire apartment has been darkened. And I mean that literally. I have my bedroom turned into a dark cave, all the time. Which makes for great sleep, but doesn't give me any inclination to wake up. The living room has curtains blocking out the sun, mostly to help with PG&E bills to conserve energy, but the end result is still darkness. And with the lack of sunlight, I get more sad. And more overwhelmed.

Fast forward to some drama, and a complete and total meltdown a few days ago. Sleeping 18-20 hours a day again, and just wanting to not deal with anything. And I woke up this morning, and realized how far I'd fallen down.

So I turned to some friends. Danny asked if I wanted to go anywhere today, and I told him no, automatically. And then mentally checked myself, and called my friend Kat. I've been meaning to go over and visit with her, because I hadn't seen her in a couple of weeks. The same weeks I've spend falling down into the dumps. Kat got a new kitten they're calling Tequila, and I wanted to meet her, so I forced myself to call her and leave the apartment. It was good for me, to get out, to get a healthy dose of Kat's persevering spirit, and the optimism that I'm sorely lacking. And I thank her for it. Dragging my ass out in spite of myself helped, and her cheery attitude also helped.

Then I called 'Chelle. She's been sick for a couple of weeks, and so I couldn't hang out with her, which also sort of added to my whole depression slump. Not in any way her fault, just one of those things. So I talked to her and she reminded me of 'fake it till you make it', or something along those lines. Pretend I'm happy, until I stop being miserable. It's how I used to deal. I could always be counted on for an acerbic comment and a dose of reality in spite of whatever was going on. Yeah, okay, most people use pretending to be happy, but sarcasm works better for me. Being cynical about the world soothes something for me. I'm good with that. So I dragged my ass into gear, and have proceeded to start moving in the forward direction again.

Life certainly isn't going to just stop revolving because I'm having problems. Time to buck up, and tackle it on my own. So I'm beginning to do just that. Today I bothered to actually cook a meal and function like a person again. I showered, I washed my hair. I played with the cat.

Tomorrow will bring a lot of housework and laundry that needs to be done, because in my funk I pretty much haven't been doing anything. Bills will need to have the numbers run, and things will start reverting to normal. Well, at least for what passes for normal for me. I'll feed the cat. I'll get some exercise, outside, in the actual sunlight. Well, maybe not in the sunlight for the exercise, but I will go outside. Clothes will get put away. Dishes will be washed. Floors will be vacuumed. Life will go on.

Whether or not I want it to, life always seems to do that, because I'm too stubborn to bother offing myself. Even at the height of my depressions, suicide never really seems like a valid answer for me. For me, getting through the day is sometimes a major accomplishment. I don't generally take the easy way out. Which is stupid of me, sometimes, but hey, that's me. So life will go on. The sun will rise, the bills will get paid. Things will go on tomorrow, they way they did a month ago.

I have to be a little more careful than normal people. Take things a little easier, so I don't accidentally send myself into a lupus flare-up, or catch some stupid illness that will knock me backwards. I can't afford to stress myself out too much, or really bad things will happen. Which is why I decided it's time to pick myself up and move on. Because I *can't* afford the stress. I can't afford to be depressed until I give up completely, and end up losing my mobility again, or worse. I won't give up everything I achieved by busting my ass to get better again, just because I had a depression spell.

I won't. I'm stronger than that.

Queue song lyrics here: (Matchbox 20 - Bent):
If I fall along the way
Pick me up and dust me off
If I get too tired to make it
Be my breath so I can walk
If I need some other loving
Give me more than I can stand
When my smile gets old and faded
Wait around, I'll smile again
Shouldn't be so complicated
Just hold me and then
Just hold me again
Can't you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put together
Keep breaking me in
And this is how we will live
With you and me bent
If I couldn't sleep could you sleep?
Could you paint me better off
Could you sympathize with my needs?
I know you think I need a lot
I started out clean but I'm jaded
Just fold me in
Just breaking the skin
Can't you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together
Keep breaking me in
And this is how we will live
With you and me bent
Start bending me
It's never enough
Till I feel all your pieces
Start bending me
Keep bending until I'm completely broken in
Shouldn't be so complicated
Just touch me and then
Touch me again
Can't you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together
Keep breaking me in
And this is how we will end
With you and me living
Without understanding
Hell, I'll go there again
Can't you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together
You're breaking me in
And this is how we end
With you and me bent


Unqueue lyrics.

Ahh, good old Matchbox 20. I think this is the end of this post. Perhaps there will be more later. Perhaps not. Maybe tomorrow. Depends on my mood.