I cried so much when he got sick and during the worst stages of his dementia—more than I did on the day he passed away. Most days, I'm okay. Sometimes, I even feel guilty for being okay after he died. Shouldn't I be crying? That's how people grieve, right? I don't know. God, forgive me if this is wrong, but somehow, I felt a little relieved afterward. A few months before he passed away, I even thought I had an undiagnosed mental disorder because I kept choosing to set aside my own health instead of getting myself properly checked. During one of his emergency room visits, a psychiatrist assessed me and said I might have Caregiver Depression Syndrome. All those sleepless nights, panic attacks, constantly being on alert, overthinking, days of nonstop crying, and the overwhelming mix of sadness, stress, exhaustion, and every emotion in between. There were times when it didn't even feel like I was dealing with the disease anymore, especially during his severe episodes of...