The Tear on My Cheek 

by Samantha KrizoSurvivorMay 13, 2020View more posts from Samantha Krizo

The void is calling… Do it! It whispers.

Just take your hands off the wheel and let the car just drift.

All the possibilities run through my head, the car gently drifts into the median and then onto oncoming traffic. The 18-wheeler is barreling down on top of me…. but there is no room for it to go.

My car smashes into a million pieces and I scream and the car rolls over. There are noises of the car parts as they hit the ground.

…Then…

Whoosh the 18-wheeler passes by me on the road and my brain snaps back into my head.

I feel wet on my face. I reach up and touch it and realize I started to cry. My mind was so ready and willing to put me through a death that when it didn’t happen, I was crying.

I have come to realize recently that I have been hiding my depression behind my humor. And it has been happening more then I care to admit.

When I received chemo, I was on the peds floor. I was around the same ages as a few of the nurses we would laugh and joke. I would put a few new kid friendly jokes on my door, different ones every day if I could manage to get out of my room. When I talked a few times to the floor therapist I would feel better because I felt I had someone who cared about me.

However, since being out of chemo there are people in the room with me but there is a thick sheet of glass surrounding my body. I can’t reach out because I don’t feel anything. My heart feels frozen and cold. I feel just as trapped as Rapunzel in the towers just waiting for my life to begin. Just as misunderstood as Quasimodo watching people go about their days not among them but above them. I just want to reach out and connect to someone or something real.

My depression makes me feel like I am alone in the world. But…. there are days every now and again where I’m driving on the highway the sun is warm on my skin, my favorite song is playing, the windows are down, the breeze is in my hair, and just for a few minutes I can breathe.


All of the posts written for Elephants and Tea are contributed by patients, survivors, caregivers and loved ones dealing with cancer.  If you have a story or experience you would like to share with the cancer community we would love to hear from you!  Please submit your idea at https://www.elephantsandtea.com/contact/submissions/.

Join the Conversation!

Leave a comment below. Remember to keep it positive!

2 Comments

  • Ann Ramer says:

    Sam, I know that treatment was brutally isolating. I also recognize that as hard as it was, you were at least with people who understood that experience. On ‘the outside,’ most people cannot fathom, and this becomes isolating in a far different way. I am sure that Covid does not help matters, but please know that you are not alone, that you see the value in that long struggle and believe that good things can come to you that will make that awful experience worthwhile. In short, know that you are loved.

    For whatever it is worth, my family has been plowing through puzzles on lockdown. I think of you every single time I walk past the table. Every. Single. Time. And I smile.

    Hugs to you.

  • Angie says:

    Love you Sam! Don’t be afraid to ask for help. I am here for you…
    Angie

  • Leave a Reply

    Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *