So … dad.

Looking at my father, you wouldn’t say he’s been going to chemo for the last year and 7 months. He really does look amazing for a man with stage IV cancer, going to treatments every week now. But the treatments are beginning to not work. The tumors are being stubborn and aren’t shrinking anymore. They’re pretty much holding where they were a year ago, these last few new treatments he’s tried having no affect except keeping the cancer from spreading (which is good news, but not the good news we want to hear).

The doctor is trying new medication now but my hopes aren’t really there for this one. Sadly, I think I am the only one being realistic regarding my father’s cancer (and being realistic is crushing me on so many levels and I wish I could be like everyone else and just kind of pretend this isn’t the case).

It is stage IV. There is only so much the doctor can do once it has progressed to other parts of the body. Basically, at this point, the chemo is just to keep him alive and from having it spread further. We’re hoping it keeps him alive long enough for them to actually find a cure for cancer already (though there are so many rumors out there that they have it, but it’s still in testing or some other crap).

It’s just hard to see my father get his hopes up so much and then have them crumble when he doesn’t hear exactly what he wants to hear (that it is all gone), and I don’t want to crush him and tell him it may never be all gone, that he might be on chemo the rest of his life—which I still hope is a long time.

It’s just … heartbreaking.

I feel so angry lately. I have two siblings and while my youngest brother goes every Wednesday with dad to chemo (his job is a lot awesomer than mine), he basically barely spends any more time with him the rest of the week. My middle brother is just MIA almost completely. Though we go to his house on the weekends, when we’re there, he barely spends time with my dad. He either plays video games the whole time or goes out with his buddies. He rarely comes to OUR house anymore.

So it’s me … all alone in the house with them and I try to spend as much time with dad as I can but it hurts so much to see him hurting so much and I can’t do anything. It hurts to sit there and know he is thinking negatively and no matter what we say to change that, he doesn’t stop and only gets more depressed. I feel like I am carrying all this weight on my shoulders by myself, even though I know I am not. I know it is affecting my brothers too, even if they’re not showing it … it’s just.

Ugh. I dunno. I don’t think I am even expressing it correctly here. I just feel so much guilt if I get home and only spend five or ten minutes with my dad, especially after he’s spent the entire day all by himself with us all at work, and escape to my room the rest of the night. I feel if I don’t spend at least an hour with him, I am a horrible child and he thinks I don’t love him or care or worry or feel such heartbreak. I just … the guilt in my heart, the pain, the turmoil is so overwhelming that most days I just want to lock myself in my room and never leave and the THOUGHT of that adds more and more layers of guilt.

I sleep for hours on end due to the depression all of this is causing me, and still I feel so tired all the time. I feel so broken down and barely wanting to move or do anything myself. It’s like I am feeding off my father, and feeling his symptoms … and it’s still just a micro version of what he feels … ugh. And I feel like between his three kids, I am the only one feeling this way … and I just … can’t breathe.

I just wish miracles really did happen, y’know?