I think i am starting to understand postpartum depression a little better now.
I feel like i should be more happy. Chemotherapy is over. Radiation is over. My PET scan came back showing “no evidence of cancer.” The wounds have FINALLY healed. I can technically get cleared to go back to work. My energy has returned. So has my memory. I feel eager to get on with my life.
So why am i not dancing on euphoria clouds right now?
I guess i thought that if/when i beat the cancer, there would be some sense of finality to it all. Every race has a finish line, right? Every war has a final battle. But i am not finished. I will never be finished. Yeah, the cancer is gone, but the treatment keeps going. It’s anticlimactic.