Depression (Part 4 of 5)

This is the post I have been dreading and putting off for awhile now. Not because I don't want to write it, but because it is hard to put into words. Forgive me if it is slightly rambling.

Depression is a relative term, I think. I think each person has their own definition of depression. For some it is chemical and treatable, and for others it is devastating in every way. For me, it was ridiculous. I say that because it seems so illogical for me. I knew in my head that the way I was feeling was stupid and pointless. I knew that if I just got out of bed and went about my day I would feel better. I just didn't want to. I wanted to stay in bed and be lazy and feel sorry for myself.

I knew that it was wrong of me to be alone so much and not spend time with my husband and kids. I knew that they missed me and were worried about me. I knew they wondered why I could get out of bed and function when family was in town, but not on a regular basis.

I wanted nothing to do with normal life. I didn't want to work or cook or go shopping. I just wanted to lay in bed and watch stupid TV and be alone to wallow. I didn't want to get dressed because all of my clothes were way to big on me and I looked like I was wearing tents. I didn't want to go out because I had to either wear the itchy and OBVIOUS wig, or deal with the stares because I was bald. I dreaded running into co-workers at the BX or Commissary and knowing they only stopped to chat out of obligation, though it was really awkward. I would get the sad eyes and the question I hated: "how are you feeling?" If I said I felt good, they would be satisfied and leave me alone. I avoided people like the plague.

I had my husband hang a blanket over the window in my room. When I was asleep I was avoiding reality. I called it fatigue, and maybe it was, but mostly it was an escape.

I stopped reading or surfing the Internet. I didn't really care what was going on outside my front door. Oh, I still wanted to be part of the family life, and I missed my husband and kids. It was just hard to deal with the day to day of it all. If I could have curled up under a rock and slept for the remainder of my chemo treatments I would have. I think it might have been easier on the family if that were possible. I know they were all so worried about me.

After my parents came to visit I felt a lot better. I began to see a light at the end of the tunnel. I stopped being quite so self conscious about my hair, or the lack there of. I realized I could stay out of bed without crumbling. I think that by forcing myself to get up and dressed every day, I slowly pulled out of the funk I was in. I also realized that people weren't just pitying me, they were really concerned and really wanted to know how I was doing.

It took awhile, but I slowly came out of hiding.