No more Mr. Nice Guy

The Hawks played at Cole's last night. John and Paloma brought me Easter candy, a bona fide Philly pretzel stick with salt, and lots of dollar bills down my pants. We have the photographs to prove it. That's because I was bartending for a while, but I'm sure Paloma would've been shoving her hands in my jeans regardless (right, John?).

Ali, Allan, Celia, Kristen, Catherine, Andy, Chuck, Mike, Jay, Laurel, Amy, Lauren, Tim, Leslie, Ryan, Tony, Thelma, Gary, Randall, Paul, Rob, a few Friday night regulars, and some very cute newbies made for an interesting evening.

After a couple of potent shots and equally potent kisses, I was having a great time and well on my way to getting out of the past week's depression. Especially since Adam called earlier to let me know that the haggis had arrived from McKeans, and that we were all set for Friday night.

But I got very tired and left early, and the evening ended in a big, lame, "whatever." (Apparently, I can still get emotionally blind-sided by a "good" guy.)

When I got home I was back at square one.

Romaine called this morning, and we talked for a while. I realized that no matter how great my friends are and how much support they give me, they can't help me with my depression. I've basically given up on the "fake it 'til you make it" approach. Screw the brave, cheerful facade.

Allegra sent me a copy of "Kafka on the Shore" to cheer me up. It made me cry because it was a perfect gift and because the idea of anything cheering me up just seems so futile at this point.

A lot of patients go through the post-surgery and post-radiation depression and anger. Why should I be immune? Because I don't look sick? Up to now, I've done everything I've been told to do to be healthy, and I still have cancer.

Welcome to the club, there're plenty of us.

I'm just so tired of fighting, and for nothing. I don't want to feel this way anymore. I hope that by just surrendering to this riptide I'll eventually resurface. But "hope" is too strong a word, and I'm too weary to trust it anymore.