What they don’t tell you is how hard it is when you hear loved ones in the other room and you can’t make your body move out of bed.
How embarrassed you are that you have slept so late.
That there will be nights you cannot fall asleep and although you were not up crying, there is this darkness, this feeling, that will not allow you to let go and sleep.
How much you are afraid your son is going to remember you as the parent that is never there and when they are they hear “Don’t wake mommy. She doesn’t feel good.”
How much you just want to walk in the other room but feel like you owe the world a HUGE apology for being the way you are.
That there will always be a fear that no one will really understand the way you are no matter how hard they try. They will accept and love you, but there will be days they do not understand and you live in fear this will be one of those days.
That there will be people who think you need to just get over it.
There are going to be times where you are going to do something small and stupid that any normal person would do and you are ready to take a running jump off the highest place possible.
That there will be times you would rather sit in bed and text your husband, wait for him to feed your son, put him down for a nap and then have him come tell you that the world is an okay place today before moving.
When you can hear them talk about you in the next room. You just cannot hear what they are saying.
There will be times that your body psychically hurts from head to toe. You will feel like you have been beat up. And you have been. By yourself.
When all you can do is cry. It’s not what you want, but it’s all you can do.
What they don’t tell you is how much this really hurts.
Today was a great distraction from dark.
Today we filmed the promotional video for “Romeo and Juliet”. The director had asked if I would be willing to put together a script and another local theatre technician to come in and film it. She wanted lots of action shots with short snips of dialogue. Not to pat my self on the back, but I was pretty proud of the script I had put together. It was difficult to get what I saw happening in my head onto the page so that everyone else would understand what I was looking for. I think I managed to do it, to some degree.
The best part was it meant that we got to do the the fights a few times. That was loads of fun! Stage combat is always a blast and my combat partner was on point today. We learned the fight in roughly 10 min and we were off and rolling before we knew it. We were in sync the entire time which is always important. Everything was safe and in control. Then I got to watch my friends fights which was awesome as well. I AM NOT a violent person! But I have a lot of respect for actors who can make fights look believable. In stage combat there is a fluidity that exist. It is almost like a dance. Each person must move and step at just the right time in just the right way to make it look real or else everything becomes dangerous and then it is no longer fun. Then it becomes scary for anyone to watch. There must be an element of closeness with people doing stage combat or else it loses all emotion. Then, it is no longer believable. It was nice to watch my friends “dance” through these fights almost effortlessly. We all took one deep breath and a fight that involved 12 people broke out with each step carefully placed so as to not over step the next. It was beautiful in it’s own dark way.
Maybe that’s why I could see the beauty in it.
For those who are followers I’m sorry I have not been writing as much right now. This darkness does not want to give way to light and there is very little I want to write about. I don’t want to continue to post overly emotional posts that will only demonstrate how detrimental depression can be. If you have been following for a while you will know that when I wrote everyday, there were times when I would write about all of the emotional downfalls that I experienced. As I am organizing my past posts into folders, it is hard to see just how hopeless I felt sometimes. Sometimes it is almost therapeutic to know that I have been there before and managed to live through it. Right now, it is just a task to keep me distracted. As are most things right now. I keep my days as busy as I can so that I don’t think about just how sick I am. Sometimes it gets the best of me and the mental becomes physical.
I hope that soon I will be back with the light that I know is inside of me. That the part of me that I love so much and treasure so dearly will embody me again. I will come back a healthy person, I know it. I am just sick right now.
Lets just leave it at that.
My elephant is here.
The darkness won’t leave.
I want to cry. There is no reason for sadness. I am in constant pain. I have done nothing but everyday activities. At least I have tried. I feel myself going through the motions but I don’t feel like I am there. It takes all the energy I have to talk and act normal. I cannot let it show. I won’t. I know people know but I won’t ever let anyone see how much it really effects me. I can’t. All the effects are not visible. The largest side effect of my depression is my desire to be in a dark room alone with either a computer, or a book, or a coloring book. I want to sleep and cry until I feel like I get it all out of my system. It is hard to feel motivated to do anything and then the guilt sets in that I have done nothing so on top of feeling depressed I now have the anxiety of all of the things I am falling behind on.
So here I am in the dark with the elephant on my chest.
P.S.- I’m sorry to write when I am like this. I just feel trapped and don’t know where else and what else to do other than the things listed above and write. I hope this will motivate me to get through the rest of the day.
I think I have figured out what my problem is. Well, at least one of them.
As I sit here sipping my tomato soup from a mug so I don’t dribble it down my shirt, capsaicin on my port, and my slippers on, looking on line for past productions of the Royal Shakespeare Company’s Romeo and Juliet, I realize, I am not my age. I have some how turned into my Grandmother. Actually, my Grandmother was cooler than me because she at least got her news from The Daily Show with Jon Stewart while I get it from Facebook blurbs my more educated friends post. I am truly that old lady that believes whatever she hears and sounds most to her liking. I just have a very liberal liking. If it were up to me, I would have been in bed 3 hours ago. I take more pills than some people who are truly twice my senior. I hear my friends tell me about how they were in there 30’s and 40’s and all I can think is been there and done that. Not to say that I still don’t have adventures to go on.
I have a friend who is very much my senior. He does theatre with me. He is a wonderful cast member because he will place himself 100% into any role you give him. He loves performing and does so with gusto. I am currently working with him in Romeo and Juliet and have directed him in the past. For so long I would call him Mr. Phinney. My Grandmother raised me that anyone who is your senior is Mr., Mrs., or Miss. and then their last name. One day I was giving notes and I said to him “Mr. Phinney I need you to…” and with out skipping a beat he said “Angela, I maybe (insert age here) years old, but I have the heart of a kid. Please call me Richard.” I love him for many reasons. But I will forever love him for that.
I feel like in a lot of ways Richard and I are the same. Part of me is older than I am and part of me is still young and always will be. For now, I am giving into the old.
I’m sledding again.
That is what we will call it this time. Sledding down an icy slope. It seems appropriate as the weather, although beautiful and sunny, has not been above freezing for the past few days.
I was hoping that it was just that wonderful thing where my lady time and my need for chemo lined up making me a hormonal mess. Sadly, I am afraid it is worse than that. My body is sore all over. I feel like I am one giant walking ball of pain. I am feeling on guard all the time. Even in places where I normally feel safe I feel like I don’t belong. I don’t feel like I belong in my own skin. I will have a breif moment of light that will quickly be snuffed out by my anxiety of how stupid my smile is, or how dumb my voice sounds, or how little I really matter. I retreat back to my own dark world.
Lately, my anxiety and my feeling of inadequacy has lead to many sleepless nights. I am not restless. I just lay there and think about all the things that you aren’t supposed to think about. I dwell on the things that I have done wrong. I create scenarios in my head of how people must talk about me when I am not around. I can hear them laugh. It is quite egotistical when you think about it. To think that I matter enough to be talked about. Then I think about that.
What if I don’t matter enough? How simple would life be if I was not a part of it. Once again, this is not a suicidal thought, this is just a thought. I have no intentions of ending my life. When I start to think about Eli growing up with out a mommy it hurts me. All I can think about is how I almost lost my life and how scared I was. It still haunts me. I think about what my life would have been if I had never held that precious boy. And it hurts. I worry that one day I will be a burden to Eli. That he will never understand his mommy like I never understood my father. That he will never forgive me. I know I am my own bag of mixed nuts and I KNOW I am not my father but I never want Eli to have memories of me that are full of fear.
And then the sun comes up. If I am lucky, Noah will lovingly take my hand and tell me to do what I need to do to make everything okay for me. Worst case, he says it through the baby monitor as he is changing Eli’s diaper. I will eventually emerge and Eli will be so happy to see me that it will set off a small spark in my heart. Sometimes it is enough for a few hours, sometimes only minutes. Either way, it is not his responsibility and it never will be. I just need him to love me. Just like I need Noah to love me. Knowing their love will be there at the end of this battle makes it simpler at times.
For now, I will go in to battle with my book on tape or binge watch some TV as my weapons because I still have not unpacked my coloring books. Noah will lay with me and stroke my hand as a tear or two roll down my face randomly and without permission. I will get through this. Just like I have gotten through every other trial of my health in my life. This is no different. I will win. It will just take time.
Under my blog title there is a tag line. It kind of gives your blog that little extra boost. Some examples include: “The Blogess: Like Mother Teresa, only better.” “And by that I mean vagina: Because life is not a cabaret, it’s a three ring circus.” and “This is Mommyhood: a mama to a daughter who’s like a hummingbird on crack”
My tag line at the moment is “A 365 day challenge.” Well… I have now made it past 365 days and although the this started as a 365 day challenge now it has become something more. I have fallen in love with this outlet and will continue to use it for many different subjects. I am going to start organizing my posts (because who knew that was a thing?) and hopefully continue to get better. Who knew something so silly as a blog could become something so big so quickly?
All this to say, I need a new tag line and I cannot seem to come up with one. I don’t want it to be long. Just a sentence, maybe even a few words. Something that will let people know what they are getting them selves into by reading my blog. My post never seem to be about one topic in particular, which makes the tag even harder.
So I need your help! Even if you DON’T read my blog, what would you say about me to someone if you could only use one sentence? What do you know about me? What is it that you always find true about me? As always, if you cannot say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. I just need help. Sometimes outsiders see the inside clearer.
Thank you in advance.