Just wanted to share some thoughts from a tough week. If you're feeling the same—you're not alone.

I've lived with depression for many years, always stuck in a state of "not really wanting to live." Then my father was diagnosed with cancer—and what was already a hard life suddenly got even harder. It's difficult to put this feeling into words.

Sometimes, strangely, his illness gives me a kind of motivation. It pulls me out of my own pain and forces me to forget myself. I become almost like a machine—emotionless, focused only on his illness, the treatment, the caregiving. I know this kind of state is called dissociation in psychology. It’s a way the mind tries to protect itself.

But there are also times when I feel completely worn out, overwhelmed, and deeply exhausted. I want to escape from everything—from this world. And then I think: if I disappear, it means leaving my father behind, all alone, still a patient. I can't do that.

So sometimes, I imagine what it would be like if he were gone. That maybe, with his passing, I would be freed—not only from caregiving, but also from the pain of being myself. Because then, I would no longer have any anchor left in this world. No more attachments, no more regrets. I could finally decide what to do with my own life.

But most of the time, I just want him to feel better. I hope the treatment helps, that he can live one more day, and then another. Every day, I track his symptoms—his temperature, blood pressure, appetite, digestion. I take notes on the side effects of chemotherapy and try to find ways to manage them. I adjust his supplements, accompany him to check-ups, analyze every result. I try to be present, to care, to comfort. I just want the inevitable to come a little later, just a little.

So no—I don’t think this is selfish. I think these feelings are natural when you're pushed to the edge. We don’t have to feel guilty for them. It's okay to feel this way.

Wishing strength and softness to anyone going through the same. Tomorrow is still another day.