Filling the Hole with Light

Well I woke up today and didn’t feel rotten. Not great, but not rotten. So I would have to say that is an improvement. I am on day 15 of 21, so I would certainly hope that I would start to feel better. Yesterday was awful, probably the worst that I had felt all week. So maybe the sun is going to come out and I am finally going to move into the light.

As you are all acutely aware of if you read my blog, you all know I am struggling with depression. Reflecting on the last month I can see where my “turn for the worse” happened. It wasn’t one singular event, but a series of things that has brought me to the point I am at now, where I am struggling to see the light. Struggling to stay in the light. Struggling to keep the hope alive.

There were numerous events that occurred during the last month which have contributed, but there are two major things that have impacted me. It started with this new chemo. I have talked about it before; this chemo is so hard on me, physically and therefore emotionally. When you are so sick physically, it becomes harder and harder to keep a smile on your face. I know this chemo will end and I’ll feel better again, that is what gets me through. One day at a time.

But the most significant event that has impacted me more than anything is the loss of my job. I cannot think about it without crying, without my heart breaking. And I know that Rand has promised me that my job is there for me whenever I am well enough to come back, and for that I am eternally grateful. It helps get me through the day knowing that when I am well, I can go back to the job I love so much. What hurts is that right now, today, tomorrow and the next day, I can no longer do my job. I can come in occasionally and help where help is needed, but it’s no longer my job. It’s someone else’s and it breaks my heart beyond belief. I love my job. I love going to work, I love interacting with my co workers and board members, I love working my tail off all day and knowing at the end of the day I got so much accomplished and it was meaningful work. So for those of you who bemoan getting up every morning and going to work, say a prayer of thanks that you still can, for I can’t anymore. And I miss that more than words can say. I miss going to work everyday. I miss my job. And for those of you at Kadlec who read this…I miss you. Kadlec is like family to me, and I feel like I have lost part of my family. And I know you are all still there, praying for me, rooting me on, bringing me meals and sending me cards and emails, but the day to day interaction is gone. I was born and created to serve, and my job is a job of serving people all day long, and I miss that too. I want to be the one helping others instead of others helping me. I miss people stopping by to tell me the latest antics of their children or the newest sorrow in their heart. I miss the sharing and caring I developed with so many people. I miss it all more than I can say. So as I battle with this darkness, I know part of it is coming from the huge hole that was left when I could no longer work. It has taken away a huge part of who I am, a part that is so integral to my identity.

But, in order to survive, I must let go. So, that is what I am working on now, letting go of what I cannot control, and I cannot control my inability to work. It is no one’s fault; it’s just the way it is. This illness has progressed to the point where my focus must be on surviving each day the best I can and fighting the illness with all that I have inside me. And in order to fight, I must let go of the things that drag me down, and the hole that was left by my job must be filled with something else. And so I pray, and I ask God to fill that hole, to fill that blackness with His holy light. Because there is nothing else that can go there. Nothing can compare with the joy that I derive from working, so only God can fill me up and take away the awful pain. I know where my focus must be, and if I ever hope to be able to take Rand up on his offer to come back to my job someday, I must focus on my healing. I must focus on hope. I must focus on the great source of light within us all, the light that belongs to the Great Healer.

This sickness will pass. I have faith and I have hope that someday, hopefully soon, I will be well again. And I will step back into my life a better person, with a unique perspective into the indescribable beauty and joy that is called Life.