Stay Here With Me

 

Today, September 10, is World Suicide Prevention Day.

And I have a message for you.

If you’re thinking about killing yourself…

If you’re thinking that life is just too hard to take…

If you’re thinking that there’s no hope, no other option…

If you’re thinking that you’re a hopeless case…

That you’re utterly worthless…

That everyone would be better off without you around…

That no one understands the depths of your pain…

That you’re just tired of trying to get through day after f###ed-up day…

That you’re all alone…

I promise you, I have thought every single one of those things. And more. Pretty recently, in fact.

And I’m still here. And I’m glad.

Life may look pitch black from your view, but I’m telling you: there is a light.

And if you need some help finding it, there are some people who can give you that.

In the U.S., the National Suicide Prevention Hotline number is 800-273-8255. Internationally, visit http://www.iasp.info to find help near you.

Believe me, I know life sucks, but I don’t know anybody who can help you get through death.

So stay here with me, and live. Let’s face this together.

Who knows? We might even end up liking it.

UBUNTU

Very inspirational. Something we should aspire to but, sadly, will probably not.

QUEST

CANDLE

In the Xhoso culture of Africa, UBUNTU means, “I am because We are.”  Dr. Horty @ IT IS WHAT IT IS  blog shared this with her readers.  I found it absolutely profound in the troubled times of our world and especially American society today.

The boy replied, “How can any one of us be happy if the others are sad?”

An anthropologist visiting and studying the Xhoso tribe placed a basket of fruit and presented a game to a group of young boys.  Run to the fruit and claim it.  If the strongest and fastest of those boys had raced to the basket of fruit placed at a short distance from them, that one boy could have claimed all the fruits.  Instead, they joined hands, ran together as a group, and claimed the fruits as one, thereby insuring all would partake of the prize.  When the anthropologist questioned their…

View original post 167 more words

What a Day That Was

 

Wow.

Wednesday was, without a doubt, the hardest day emotionally in a long time for me.

Depression placed a huge rock on my shoulders early in the day, and there it stayed all day long. I could feel the weight of it pushing down on me, getting progressively heavier.

It hurt. Physically hurt.

By the time I arrived home that evening, I was crushed under the weight of it.

Almost to death. At least, wishing for it.

 

I can’t really put my finger on any specific thing that triggered it all. It would be nice if I could, so I’d recognize it next time. (next time??)

I don’t know; it was like anxiety, pessimism, insecurity, self-criticism, and just anyone who wanted to join in, were all waiting on the corner to beat the $#!t out of me when I showed up.

And, boy, did they do a good job. It was just about too much to take.

 

And then, I got home, and I asked my wife to hug me and tell me she loves me while I wept on her shoulder.

So she did. And in the process, she pushed that stupid rock off of me. I so don’t know what I’d do without her.

(Oh, and my cats provided some additional therapy. 🐱 It was appreciated.)

Later, my wife reassured me of all the good things in my life, and there are plenty, I know. But, as I explained to her, the insidious thing about depression is, it persuades you that none of that matters; you’re worthless, and your life sucks, end of story.

It’s mean, y’all.

 

I’m gonna share my good days and bad days with you, just in case any of you out there think you’re alone in this fight. Believe me, you’re not.

I know I should have some kind of defense for this. Something to help me stop this before it spirals out of control.

And maybe I do. I just couldn’t think of it Wednesday.

Also, I may need to ask my psychiatrist for a change of medication. This stuff I’ve been taking for years may not be so effective, anymore.

But, thank goodness, at least I had a lifeline, and all I can say is, if you have a problem with depression or any other mental illness, find a lifeline for you.

I don’t care who; it could just be a stranger at the other end of a phone line who, in that moment of utter desperation, can be the best friend you ever had, and push that rock off of you.

I wish you all no days like the one I just had.

I wish that for me, too.

Thanks for your time.

 

One-Two Punch

 

From the Associated Press:

“WASHINGTON (AP) — President Donald Trump’s former personal lawyer has pleaded guilty to campaign finance violations and his former campaign chairman convicted for financial fraud, raising questions about the president’s own legal jeopardy…

“Most damaging to Trump were statements by his longtime attorney and “fixer” Michael Cohen, who pleaded guilty in New York, saying he and Trump had arranged the payment of hush money to porn star Stormy Daniels and a former Playboy model to influence the election…

“In a split screen for the history books, Trump’s former campaign chairman Paul Manafort was convicted of financial crimes at nearly the same moment Tuesday Cohen pleaded guilty to a series of felonies, including campaign finance violations that the lawyer said he carried out in coordination with Trump.”

 

That sound you heard yesterday afternoon was something hitting the fan. Twice.

Mr. trump can scream, “RIGGED WITCH HUNT!!!” until his ship goes all the way underwater, but the fates of Mr. Cohen and Mr. Manafort in two separate courtrooms blew two two great big holes in his mighty vessel. Let’s see what he does as he takes on water.

You might guess, from my past writings, that I would be positively giddy over this turn of events. And yes, I admit it’s very satisfying for me to watch this guy get what’s coming. I hope the rest of his historically dysfunctional administration does, as well.

And yet, this is a sad state of affairs for our nation. Worse than Nixon and Watergate, worse than Clinton and Lewinsky/Flowers/Jones/etc., this President has shamed and defiled his office, and his “winning” facade is about to be exposed for the travesty that it is.

And that, if nothing else, is sad.

I know many of you will disagree, perhaps vehemently, with what I’m saying. That’s alright; you have your opinion, and I have mine. However you feel about it, though, get used to this.

I think we’re just getting warmed up, here. This is just Round One.

Dispatch From Inside the Paper Bag

 

It’s a common criticism of an average or below average boxer to say he “can’t punch his way out of a paper bag.” Sometimes, even “a wet paper bag.” It implies a hapless palooka who is too weak/inept/cowardly to effectively land a punch.

Well, folks, I am that boxer.

My fight is against depression, as many of you know. Unfortunately, two of depression’s harder punches are loss of interest and lack of concentration.

So basically, I don’t even feel like fighting, usually. Hence, the long period of no posts on this blog. I’ll start a few of them, but following through is next to impossible; I can’t concentrate, and I don’t care.

Sucks, right?

I’m still here, though, in case you were concerned. And maybe sometime, I’ll finally land a punch. I do want to win this fight, really.

But I’m afraid we’re gonna go several more rounds.

 

And How Was Your Day?

 

The surprises life occasionally drops in your lap can sometimes be nothing short of incredible.

 

I drive a shuttle bus five days a week for a particular business. I’ve been driving it for two years, now. In that time, I’ve gotten to know several of the folks who ride it on a regular basis. I know many of them by name, and enjoy talking with them when they ride with me.

We’ll talk about just random stuff: music, sports, the job, the mercilessly hot weather (currently), whatever.

And, somewhere in the conversation, I try to get a laugh or two out of them; maybe make them forget a few seconds about the stress of the day. Some people, I can joke with relentlessly, because we know each other that well by now.

This one fellow, who shall remain nameless, and I are like that, but one day, we got a little deeper in our dialogue. I don’t recall how we got to this subject, but I shared my depression struggles with him, which led to him opening up about his depression, and sometimes thoughts of suicide.

He told me he’s thought about it “logically”, i.e., exactly how he would go about it.

I told him about how I wrestle with those same thoughts, and recommended that he get help, as I did. Because, like I’ve said before on this blog, that’s way too big a dragon to try and slay on your own.

He thanked me for the talk, and we haven’t brought it up since. Which is probably bad; I should have followed up on it with him. But, I don’t see him as much, now; since relocating to the main office, he doesn’t need to go to the other facility too often. Not that that’s any excuse.

So today, when I walked into the office, the lady at the security desk, who I also know, had a card for me from him. Now, we both expected it to be something funny, because he and I sometimes leave snarky little notes for each other with her. She kinda gets a kick out of being the go-between, I think.

Not this time. Instead, it was a thank-you card. Inside was a generous gift, and a note which read:

I really struggled on a daily basis with depression during my old job. Part of the reason I was always on the bus was you. Thank you for making me laugh and smile.

 

I just stood there for a minute, looking at that note, totally dumbfounded. I genuinely didn’t know what to think. I’m still trying to get a grasp of the significance of it.

At the very least, though, it’s immensely gratifying. I have no idea if I’ve helped anyone with what I’ve written on this blog; I can only hope. But, I can take some satisfaction in knowing I helped him.

With just a few jokes. Who would have thought?

I don’t know what this story will mean to you, if anything. Like I said, I’m still processing what it means to me.

But, have you ever been at a point in your life where you never envisioned yourself being, wondering why you were there?

I don’t know for sure, but maybe, this guy was the reason I’m right here, right now.

Which blows my mind just a little.

Love one another, y’all.

 

 

One more letter to my Senators

This has to stop NOW!

Ends and Beginnings

Note: Feel free to use any or all of this letter to send to your representative(s)

So, are you asking yourself this question yet, what does Vladimir Putin have on Donald Trump? And if you aren’t asking yourself this question after the Helsinki love fest my only question to you is why aren’t you? Trump has spent the last year and a half bashing our closest and most loyal allies. People and countries that have come to our defense no matter what the cost to themselves or their countries. Nations that have spent money and shed blood on our behalf. And rather than thanking them for their support and their loyalty Trump condemns them, ridicules them and embarrasses them while heaping praise with the enthusiasm of schoolboy in love on a violent and dangerous dictator.

We don’t need Russia. Trump claims that because they are a “nuclear power” that somehow…

View original post 308 more words

The Decline and Fall of the United States

Thank you, trump supporters, for all of this.

Endless Bitchen Summer

July 16, 2018: A Day That Will Live In Infamy

We have been attacked by our own president.

The United States is no longer in control of our own foreign policy; Vladimir Putin and the Russian Confederacy are dictating our agenda.

This is unprecedented. All Americans should be highly alarmed.

At this point, if you vote for anyone who supports the Trump agenda, you are voting against the sovereignty (independence) of the United States.

There is no going back. Our president has humiliated and broken ties with our democratic allies, while he embraces the world’s dictators.

Where do you draw the line?

  • As the sister of a brother who suffered from Muscular Dystrophy, the line for me was crossed when Trump mocked the disabled reporter in November 2015. What type of person does this? In a society that decries bullying, our president is the biggest bully in the world.

Trump…

View original post 359 more words

My Final Year As a Quinquagenarian

 

In other words, I turned 59 today.

Anyone between the ages of 50 and 60 is a quinquagenarian. It’s a word you use all the time, right?

Are you kidding? People that age get worn out just saying it. Who the blue devil came up with that title, anyways?

Never mind, here I am, standing at the threshold of 60. A threshold I thought would take a lot longer to show up. Truly astonishing, how fast life runs when you’re not looking.

It’s unfair, too; by the time you come to appreciate just how precious your days on this earth actually are, they’re mostly gone.

But enough gloom and sadness. The larger point is, I’m still here! And, as that noted philosopher once said, “Any day above ground is a good day.”

(Even with the guy we currently have as President, but I digress…)

Also, considering that I’ve spent the last several years with depression as my constant companion, occasionally urging me to just cash it all in, it’s a small miracle I’m still around.

And, on the whole, I’m glad I’m here. Despite what I try to tell myself sometimes, life actually is worth living.

Especially when I can get in some naps. Us old folks need those, you know.

So, have a piece of cake for me. Heck, indulge; have two.

Just don’t make me blow out any candles. I’m still a little winded from saying that word.