Archive for the ‘Depression’ Category

“It sure is quiet, Sarge.”

“Yeah, TOO quiet. I don’t like it.”

Suddenly, the air around them fills with the sounds of gunfire, mortars, hand grenades, and cries of “BANZAI! BANZAI!” as another night begins on Guadalcanal, Iwo Jima, or any one of a dozen islands that dot the Pacific Ocean.

That’s Just How it Feels Some Days

My doctor adjusted my medications last month. It’s a delicate dance we share a few times every two or three years. Sometimes we’ll increase one dosage and reduce another; sometimes we’ll add something new until everything is in balance once again.

But once everything is moving along swimmingly, once things start to hum and purr, that’s when I begin to worry.

That’s when the dark side of my mind whispers, “It sure is quiet, Sarge.”

When I’m doing well, I almost forget that this blog exists. That’s why I haven’t posted in a long time. But when the shadows start to roll in, I know it’s time to start writing again.

Not that I haven’t been writing: this isn’t my only blog, nor is it my only writing project. But more than any other writing project, this is my therapy.

Not therapy in the sense of “Oh, woe is me! Pity me and give me your sympathy! Come join my pity party!” Nope, I’m just not that kind of girl. Instead, I write to clear my head, and a little voice whispering in my ear is saying, “You just might be helping someone else. Maybe one of your readers is facing similar problems, and reading about how you’re meeting yours encourages them to face their own issues.”

I decided many years ago that if I can reach just one person, if I can convince a single soul to keep going, not stopping, and not giving up hope, then I would consider that my own life hasn’t been wasted.

Thanks for reading.

And I Still Don’t Know

Sometimes my darkest moments give me my greatest ideas. But because the Dementors have taken hold of my spirit, I can’t act on those ideas right away.

So I do the next best thing: I write myself a note with the basic theme of the idea. Later, when the sun returns and dissipates the fog of depression, I can review my notes and decide if any of them are worth exploring further.

This is One of Those Ideas

I’m 68 years old; in 5 months I’ll be 69. It will be time once more for me to write a big fat 0 (zero) after my age. The eternal Footman will be one step closer to holding my coat.

What have I got to show for my life? For what will I be remembered by future generations of my family?

Will I be remembered at all?

Will they remember that I was a loving parent who adored her children and grandchildren? That the loss of a beloved pet some 35 years ago even today haunts me?

Or will they curse my name for the accursed genetic heritage with which I have bequeathed — nay, cursed — them?

For that’s the one constant in my bloodline: chronic depression.

And Yet…

My daughters and my grandsons are my legacy, and my inspiration. I am Transgender, and so is my grandson. It is for them that I continue to live, continue to believe that without them I would have long since yielded to The Big Sleep.

Because there are statistics that tell me that children of suicides are far more likely to kill themselves.

And I will not do that to my girls.

“Thus conscience does make cowards of us all.” Hamlet, Act III, Scene i.

If you’ve never felt the cold winds of Depression (with a capital D) blow over you, then you can’t understand that “[y]ou don’t have one problem or problems you are sad about, there is only sadness.” (Source)

And I’m also comforted by something I read on the internet years ago:

So nanny, nanny, boo-boo! I am Officially Exempt™ from having to grow up. And to celebrate, I might just go out and order a Happy Meal!

And here’s why: https://bit.ly/2S9lXwW

Donald Trump, in his eternal ass-licking of the fascist Evangelical Christian movement, seeks to deny my existence. Not content with stripping minorities of their civil rights, he is now attempting to define me out of existence.

What next? Is he going to round us up and put us in ghettoes, as the Nazis did in the 1930s and ‘40s? Or maybe the same detention facilities concentration camps he’s using to house immigrant children?

People have been saying for years that “it can’t happen here.” But it is happening here, and has been, ever since the Great Pumpkin (aka Trumplethinskin) and his cronies stole the election with the help of Russia.

Trump wasn’t elected: he was Putin office.

Who’s next? Atheists? Gays and lesbians? Minority races? And even “minority races” is a joke, since collectively they outnumber the so-called White majority.

I’m so angry right now that I have to save this as a draft and walk away until I can think more clearly.


Much Later

The news keeps getting worse. With the Rethuglican party firmly in control of the Senate, it’s probably going to sanction these new policies. And since they’ve managed to stack the deck in their favor on the Supreme Court, any legal challenges to these unconstitutional policies will also be denied, even the the Constitution plainly states in Article 14:

All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

I’m pretty sure that denying people their civil rights by executive dictatorial decree does not constitute “due process,” but I could be wrong. After all, I’m no lawyer: my parents preferred that I pursue an honest career instead.

But it Ain’t Over ‘til it’s Over

As a wise man once said. Perhaps this latest indignity will wake up the sleeping masses and fire them with sufficient zeal to overturn this dictatorship.

But I doubt it. Most likely they’ll just go back to Netflix & Chill.

It’s Been a Long Time…

Posted: 18 September, 2018 in Aging, Depression
Tags:

…Since I last wrote

But I’m catching up now, after spending 6 days in hospital. 3 nights in the Emergency Department because there were no open beds on any of the medical floors, and then 3 nights in my own room.

Now that I’m home I’m looking forward to getting some actual rest. Being woken up every 4 hours to have my vitals checked and blood drawn is not conducive to a restful, healing sleep.

Then again, here at home I sometimes need to get the cat off my blanket in the middle of the night so I don’t freeze.

Yes, it’s that time of year again. Two weeks ago we were sweltering in 90+ heat, and last night it was 53. And today is supposed to hit 88. Rochester has weird weather in the early autumn.

I guess I’m finally Officially Old. Every single member of my medical team was at least 20 years younger than me. And now I’m getting home visits from a nurse and a physical therapist.

Getting old: it ain’t for sissies!

Still, however uncomfortable it may be, it still beats the hell out of the alternative. I have a grandson I’m hoping to see marry and perhaps raise a family. I have two others I want to be around when they graduate high school. So I do the exercises and watch my diet and do whatever I need to do to “age with grace.”

Whatever the hell that means. Dylan Thomas was right: I am definitely not going gentle into that good night.

Thought for the day:

And that, dear reader, sums up my attitude toward old age…

…and other assorted assholes.

But Life Goes On

As it tends to do. And it reminds me of a little tune Mason Williams wrote and which the Smothers Brothers recorded many, many years ago:

Isn’t life beautiful?
Isn’t life gay?
Isn’t life the perfect thing
To pass the time away!

And so, dear reader, I also go on.

And it’s driving me crazy

Some background

It’s not really new…just new to me. See, when my ex and I were together and I was getting a decent monthly check, we (me, my ex, and her daughter) each got new iPhones. Then her daughter got stupid and ended up in a situation where she’s not going to need her phone for a very long time.

So about 3 months ago, my ex gave it back to me so I could cancel the line and return the phone. Which I still haven’t done.

(I’m not making any excuses, but if you’ve ever suffered the Dementor known as clinical depression, you’ll understand why I haven’t brought myself to return it.)

So all 3 devices were pretty much the same: iPhone 6S Plus. The only difference? I got the one with 16 gigs of memory, while the other two got 32 gigs.

As a result, I’m constantly removing and reinstalling apps from my device.

Then The Lightbulb Lit!

Yesterday I had the brilliant idea of switching phones! I’ll switch to the 32 Gb model!

Before doing so, I figured I’d check the battery level on it. But plugging it into the charger–and since I had already wiped the phone clean and reset it to the original factory settings–as soon as I plugged it in, it went into its start-up mode.

Once I was done with that, it then (automagically) downloaded and installed the latest IOS version…

…which took up the better part of an hour.

If you’re setting up a new iPhone and you already have one, a screen comes up on the new phone. All you have to do is activate the camera on the old one and holding it so that the image on the new one completely fills the screen on the old one.

That triggers the mechanism that copies your settings to the new phone. And once that was done, the new phone asked me if I wanted to restore everything from the recent backup made on the old phone.

Which is what I did, only to discover that only the icons for all the applications and not the apps themselves were restored. So yet another hour was spent as the new phone automatically downloaded the applications (and their data) from the cloud.

Except not all of the data and settings were restored. Several apps required me to go into them and enter my login data. I don’t have an issue with that: after all, it’s a question of account security and they’re just making sure I’m who I say I am.

The problem is that several apps didn’t copy over my settings and preferences to the new phone. So now I’ve got to spend a couple of hours trying to get those apps to function correctly.

Sometimes Technology Sucks

Especially when “upgrading” to a new device. But no worries: I’ve already been singing.