Written Aug 7, 2012 1:29pm by Renee Albracht
There is a commercial on television showing an elephant sitting on a man's chest. That is how I have described how I have felt lately. The depression is overwhelming.
Yesterday morning, I called my boss and asked if I could come in to work even though my eye was not much better. I was getting cabin fever and knew staying home one more day would not help my depression. He agreed as long as I kept my distance from the officers and left before shift change.
Unfortunately, work just added to my depression. My eye was so red and swollen, I was embarrassed to look anyone in the eye. Plus, for whatever reason, I had a bad stomach ache for most of the day.
I went to lunch with my boss, Terry, and Mike and I was lost during most of their conversation. I had been gone for three weeks and so much had happened without me. I felt disconnected from my job and coworkers at Belmont. Not only was life going on without me, but I was barely able to do my own job!
To make matters worse, I was starting to feel panicky while at the restaurant. I tried to keep positive, but I simply withered deeper into myself.
Between the chemo and pink eye (which I don't think was actually pink eye), I isolated myself from Mike and the girls and from work all of last week. Because Mike was so busy with his own issues -- namely work and trying to get his daughter enrolled in a good school -- I didn't reach out to him and talk out my frustrations with him the way I normally would. Because I didn't want anyone else worrying about me when there was nothing anyone could do about it anyway, I didn't call my family. And, the deeper I sunk into the depression, the harder it became to reach out.
I also felt like a burden. It's easy for everyone to show a tremendous amount of concern in the beginning. It is a shock to everyone. However, as other people get on with their own lives, it's easy to forget about the struggle. The longer I go not working, it is easy for others to start feeling resentful that I'm not pulling my weight. It's easy for people to start thinking I'm milking it or think "Isn't she better yet?" Now, no one has ever said or done anything to make me think they are thinking this, but I think it.
The more life goes on without me and I lose my status, the more I think of myself as a burden and that others would be better off if I wasn't here. I don't mean dead, I mean being replaced.
I see this at work mostly. I used to be the one others on campus turned to for things. I used to be the one called into meetings regarding security issues with higher ups. I used to be the one involved in all these committees and processes involving multiple departments on campus, including VPs. Now, Mike and Terry have had to cover for me so much, I'm not even CCed on emails so that I can at least keep up to date. By the time chemo is finished, everyone else will be so used to going to someone else, I'll be completely out of the loop of relevance or importance. I see that and feel that even now. I used to be somebody on this campus. Now, I feel like I am merely being tolerated. It's a huge blow to my ego!
On the way home, the song Strong Enough by Matthew West came on. I started to cry. I kept hearing the parts about him being too weak, but had a hard time "hearing" the part about God's strength taking over when I'm not strong enough.
The loneliness I felt was crushing and I longed for the early days of cancer when my mom or sister would check on me every time I sneezed. It annoyed me a bit then, but at that moment, I would have given anything for that kind of attention.
When I got home from work and started to change clothes, my sister called. Even though she didn't say anything in particular to make me cry, for whatever reason, I could no longer hold on, be strong, and sound happy and upbeat. I cried and bared my soul to her. She was my rock and convinced me that it was not bad or weak willed of me or negative in any way to ask for help. I told her I wasn't going to call anyone just to bring me milk. I wasn't going to ask her or my parents to spend money to fly up just to sit around so I don't feel lonely. She said that when she read my last blog, she saw it as a cry for help. It sure wasn't intentional, but the fact that she called at that precise moment when I was breaking tells me God had His hand in all of it - what I wrote, the way she took it, and the moment she chose to call.
I spoke with my mom and dad later that day and cried with them as well. I was emptying myself, unable to hold it in, unable to be strong any longer. The truth is, the longer the chemo goes on, the harder it gets, the more depressed and lonely I feel, and the more I cannot fathom how in the world I am going to get through four more months of this.
After crying with all of them, my stomach ache began to ease some and my depression lifted. The weight of that elephant began to ease. We decided that they would take turns coming up here to spend chemo week with me so that I am not alone. I saw the benefits of sharing my feelings with others and made a promise to them that I would be honest with them and not try to spare their feelings.
There was still the issue with Mike. I have felt like we had been drifting apart lately. I have tried to stay out of his way, but missed our bond.
Today, after our staff meeting, I went with him to Staples to get some work supplies. While we were gone, we had a good chance to talk. I told him all about how I had been feeling lately and well, everything I have posted today and a few days ago. He shared his frustrations trying to raise a daughter and wanting to do the right thing. He, too, missed our time together and him, like me, was trying to give me my space, thinking I wanted to be left alone, especially when my door was closed. He also thought I no longer needed him to lean on since I have been talking so much with Brad. Turns out that while we were both trying to protect each other, we were, in fact, hurting each other. He said that taking care of me and talking to me is a reprieve from all his stress just like coming to work and staying busy at work is a reprieve for me from all the cancer crap. I promised to be honest with him and let him know what's going on with me or what I need and told him to check on me every now and again, especially if I'm alone in my room.
I have to say, between my Warrior sister taking charge of my care and clearing the air with my best friend, I feel a lot better today and am a smidge less stressed about the next chemo. (Although I still have to make a concerted effort not to even look at the next date on the calendar. Seeing/doing anything that reminds me of the next treatment still makes me feel sick to my stomach.) I feel a tremendous amount better today!
Thanks for all of your prayers. I have yet been able to pray for myself. Tried to read some before bed, but just can't seem to do it lately. Part of the depression, I suppose.
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