#431: Depression: It's The Shame

It's not the sadness that gets you. It's the shame.

It's knowing that when the going gets tough, you will cave.

The People who counted on you, who relied on you to be there? They're going to find out they were wrong.

I cannot remember a day when I felt more ashamed than I do today. I have just walked away from the best job and the best people I have ever known. I sat weeping like a baby in the Director's office, trying to explain how the Miraculous Cancer Boy Who Didnt Die could be beaten by his own broken heart. He was very kind.

"Leave of Absence." Sounds as if I am taking a semester to study in Oxford.

I wrote about every step of my cancer journey on these pages. I. Don't see how I can do that about my depression. There are people who know this pain from the inside. Who might find comfort from my story, the way some have from that other battle. But this isn't about a sick body. My mind is sick. People I love are part of the confused blur in my imagination. I can't trust anything I think or say. I am afraid of things that I can't explain.

It's the sobs that are always stuck in your throat.

The tears that take you by surprise when you're driving your car.

When I wrote about cancer, I felt like a warrior. Now, I just feel like a pathetic exhibitionist. I'm gonna have to stop writing for a while, I think.

This disease is never going away. It has no cure. It wont always be this bad, but it will always be a part of my life. It will not kill me. It has come close in the past. Closer than any carcinoma ever did. But it will not break my soul the way it has broken my mind. As long as I can run, I can live. Mrs P loves me with a power that no chemical brain storm can overcome. I have good docs. good friends. A god who loves me and has brought me here for a reason. I'm not going to die from a broken heart.

But sweet Jesus, it hurts.

And I am so very ashamed.

And I am so very sorry.

Peace,
Pennsy