Enshrine by Chelle Bliss

Author:Chelle Bliss [Bliss, Chelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Chelle Bliss
Published: 2016-01-24T17:00:00+00:00

16

Stage 4—Depression Revisited

Life has become…

I don’t even know the word to describe it.

Exhausting.

Depressing.

Inescapable.

Lonely.

When Bruno stormed out of my apartment two weeks ago, I said, “Fuck him…good riddance.”

He called, texted, and even knocked, but I never answered or let him in. I didn’t want anyone around me, especially him. He wasn’t telling me something, and I was done playing games.

I’ve never been the girl to be okay with secrets.

I waited for him to bust down my door and come barging in, but he didn’t.

The last week has been peaceful. Even Becca had become scarce. Her boss had slammed her at work, making her work double shifts.

Chemo still kicks my ass, and I feel sicker than I ever have before. I crawl around my apartment when I need to get around. I learned quickly to set everything up before I go for treatment. I put enough water out, small snacks if I become hungry, and have my vomit pot nearby in case I need it. I don’t need anyone around to take care of me, especially him.

My buzz cut now is splotchy with smooth patches and very little hair left. My eyebrows are gone, my eyelashes are hanging on by a thread, and the rest of me is smoother than ever before. Every time I look in the mirror, I have to do a double take.

I’ve lost too much weight. I look like a walking, hairless skeleton. There isn’t a person in the world I want to see me like this. I have my groceries delivered and have only left my place to go to chemo or the doctor’s and then come straight home.

I try to watch television, but nothing holds my interest. I can’t laugh or get lost in anything, not even a book that I would’ve enjoyed before.

I still fear death. How can I not?

When I find the energy, I start to clean out every drawer and closet I have. If I do pass away, I don’t want anyone to have to go through my stuff. I remember how the family acted when my grandmother died. They combed through her things, and everything that had been private became public. The smartest thing she did was label the big items. On the back of every painting, piece of furniture, or decoration, she’d put a piece of tape with the name of the person she wanted to have it after she left this world. I thought it was peculiar at the time, but now, I understand her thinking. She knew at her age that the end was close and she wanted her wishes fulfilled.

But I have no one to leave my things to except Rebecca. Besides work, the only important stuff in my life had been my things.

Things no one wants.

My prized possessions would be donated to a thrift shop. Someone would spend a couple of bucks when I’d spent hundreds of dollars and tried my best to keep up the perfect exterior.

What a fuckin’ waste.

Instead of spending time with friends and possibly finding the love of my life, I worked and shopped.

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