BONJOUR TRISTESSE

 

We're on a heavy journey these days, that's for sure. My husband is depressed. Some days are heavier than others, and I've experienced occasions this past week when I've felt a mixture of deep sadness, melancholy and even despair. But as long as I don't sink into depression too - that would be insufferable. I had a session with my therapist last week, and we talked about depression. Insomnia can often be a sign of depression, but she said that if you reach out for your bedside lamp switch in order to read for a bit when you can't sleep, then you're not depressed. A pretty good picture, I think.

"You're not depressed," she said to me, "but you're feeling sad." Very minor things can trigger my emotions now - a song, an old photograph, a piece of literature, a compassionate email, a sentence someone says - just asking me how I am doing, for instance. This is vulnerability for you - on a high level.

With the greyness both inside and outside me last week, I decided we need to turn things around. My husband's focus will have to change, though I know it won't be easy. I'm going to spend my time now on lifting him up, making his days - and thus OUR days - positive and happy. Or, at least I'll try.

Towards the end of last week I managed to see some light in the dark tunnel. Literally! There was the faintest notion of a sunset on Friday evening - more or less the first since Christmas - and in addition I discovered the first green leaves on a nearby hedge!

My therapist told me about something called Vardesenteret, which is a place where cancer patients and their relatives can go for dialogue and group conversations, there is nutrition guidance, exercise classes - you name it. (I must say though, that I find it strange that there's been no mention of this centre from anyone during my husband's illness and subsequent treatments. I remember now seeing a sign for it at the hospital, but I didn't think of asking anyone at the time. There was so much else to concentrate on)!

So - our first appointment there is tomorrow, with a nutrition expert. My husband eats hardly anything, and perhaps the expert will know some tricks and techniques or methods to get him to enjoy food a bit again. I think his lack of appetite might also have psychological reasons, and anyway it's always valuable to receive advice from someone who's not a nagging wife or a worried daughter.

Tomorrow we'll also be able to have a look around the centre, to talk to some of the volunteers who work there, and to check out all the activities they provide.

I think I've taken a small step forward.

The dreary weather coupled with my own despondency has meant that I've dressed in dark clothes and the same old wellies or boots every day - what's the point in dressing cheerfully when you hardly dare venture out in continuous rain and slush? But on Friday I dressed in red shoes and a red scarf because I KNEW it would help the sunny weather along! And the following day the sun did come out and has stayed out since!

And with the hope of my granddaughter Jelena getting her leg cast removed tomorrow there's room for optimism. And maybe a trip to France beckoning in the not too distant future. We haven't been there since the beginning of September.

But I think I also need to make room for tristesse. It is very much a part of my life these days.