THE DIFFERENCE IN TEN YEARS

I was sitting in my favorite spot in my living room this morning listening to an album that was released fifty years ago.  Steely Dan's "Can't Buy A Thrill" stared at me as the music wafted through my ears and into my head landing in the memory bank of my mind.  I first saw and heard Steely Dan perform "Do It Again" on "The Midnight Special" one Saturday night.  Donald Fagen had a distinct voice that caught my attention immediately.  It was a good song with good lyrics.  Back in the 1973 pop music was, in my mind, in the middle of the greatest decade of rock music in my lifetime.  The years 1965 to 1975 plus maybe a couple of years added to each side of that timeline took rock, country and jazz music through  a magnificent metamorphosis.  I can look back to the Top 40 of any week during that decade and my mind just whispers to me, "wow....".  As I scanned my memories from 50 years ago I started thinking what I was like 50 years ago.  Looking back 50 years ago even I wouldn't recognize myself.  I was a kid of 16 then with my whole future ahead of me.  I had yet to buy my 1967 Impala.  It was a time of transition for me from Debbie to Barbara with my last few months of freedom on that front being realized.  I had my career picked out but that was about the only thing of consequence I had accomplished.

My mind shifted to the changes my life had gone through in just the last ten years.  I thought about how I am now compared to just ten years ago.  "Just ten years ago".  During the ten years that followed 1973 I had graduated High School, married Barbara and adopted Brett.  I was in a job with a company that would see me through to my retirement.  In 1983, it still felt like I had my whole future ahead of me with a lifetime to go.  Time passes quickly though.  As I look back I can see that now and realize that life is ever changing and it doesn't stop until you take that last breath.  I am much closer to that last breath now than I was in 1973, 1983 or even 2013.

As I look back at myself in 2013 compared to today the changes are dramatic.  Brett had graduated high school 13 years before and had left Barbara and me with an empty nest.  Dutch never got over Brett not being there and go crazy wild every time Brett came walking through the door.  Dutch was only 5 years old at the time and still had his tank of energy at full.  In 2013 I would take Dutch for a weekly walk as I had Rudy before him.  I did not walk Dutch as far and as long on those walks as I had Rudy though.  Rudy had developed problems with his joints at an early age.  I did not want that to happen to Dutch.

Barbara's health was just beginning to slide on that downhill slope.  Her back was just beginning to bend forward as the fusion of her spine began.  She was able to still ride with me to Alabama to visit family but in 2013 we only ventured that direction once a year.  Mom and dad were still living in Kansas City but slowly their health was beginning to decline as well.  In three years they would relocate to Alabama to live closer to my sister.  When they moved was when my hands were full trying to take care of Barbara whose health was on a rapid decline, and dad's health was starting to fail as well.  As a family we decided that Elaine could take better care of mom and dad than I could while I was trying to take care of Barbara.  I think Barbara's last trip to Alabama was in 2014.  She made one more trip, that being to Texas for her nephew Travis' wedding.  As far as I know she never left Kansas City after that.  It was too hard on her back to even make a trip across the state to St. Louis.

We were on the last of the Saturns we would buy, Barbara driving a 2007 while I drove my precious 2006 Ion.  I think I loved that car more than any other car I had owned except maybe the 1979 Malibu that I had purchased brand new.

Barbara had returned to work and was happy with her job.  It would be the last job she held working for R. L. Stein Construction as an office manager.  In three short years, the spring f 2016, Barbara would stop working because of her health issues and begin the process of applying for Social Security Disability.  I was still working at Dit-MCO putting in my 34th year with the company.  I like to think I had attained the status of old-timer among the younger workers that brought a little respect for just staying around so long.

My health was not on the bight side in 2013 though it was much better than Barbara's.  I had two big wake up calls in 2012 and 2013.  In 2012 I had suffered my first heart attack.  It was the first sign to me that maybe I was starting to get old.  In 2013 I had my first colonoscopy where they found and removed several per-cancerous polyps.  This put me on the three year colonoscopy plan which I was thrilled about.  Since that first colonoscopy they have removed per-cancerous  with every procedure.  As you can guess, I am still on three year plan.

Ten years ago I was still fairly active though.  I broke my foot playing basketball with Brett that year and we never finished the game.  I claim the victory though since I was up on him as the time of the fracture.

The house had undergone a slight transformation.  After having carpal tunnel surgery on both my wrists, it was near impossible for me to paint the house.  Putting vinyl siding on the house became our first major improvement on the house other than a couple of new roofs over the years.  It improved the look of the house dramatically.  Barbara and I did not spend a lot of money ten years ago as we saw ourselves nearing our 6th decade of life and started trying to save a little bit for retirement.  Barbara was more concerned about our readiness for retirement than I was or so it seemed to me.  I didn't require a lot of money to keep me happy and I thought I would do very well keeping the standard of living we had then on into retirement. After mom and dad moved south, my trips to Alabama became more frequent and I depended upon Brett and our neighbors to keep an eye on Barbara due to her health.  I did not like leaving her alone with only Dutch to keep an eye on her.

I think it was around 2013 when my natural cynicism rose to a new level concerning events and life in general.  When President Obama was elected in 2008 I held out hope that he would be a good man for the job.  I even made an entry in this blog about my hope for the new administration.  By 2013, that hope had been obliterated.  My cynical side became stronger and I went int a phase of life of not trusting or believing anyone outside my own little family.  In 2013 I saw the world as a huge mess with respect being thrown out the window.  The youngsters of 2013 (under twenties) did not seem to take seriously anything.  They did not have respect for the country or the system that made this country as great as it is.  Ten years later I look back at those kids in 2013 and realize that they were not too different than I was in 1973.  Strange how that works.

Now I look at myself in 2023 compared to that person I just described.  I am calmer now than I was ten years ago.  I don't let my anger out hardly at all.  I tend to let things slide a little bit more.  I feel like I have come to accept the way the world is.  I do not understand a lot of things that go on in the world these days but things do not seem to bother me as drastically as they use to.

I am retired now after receiving a kind reminder from God that I am mortal by way of a second heart attack.  That heart attack the day before Barbara's birthday put me in the same hospital, in the same ICU just down the hall from where Barbara had died.  Those few days gave me plenty of time to think.  I thought about where I was and where my life was going.  I confirmed my thinking that life is indeed far to short.  I came to the conclusion that perhaps I had not lived my life to it's fullest.  Perhaps a little Charles Dickens crept into my thinking that I still had time, just as old Ebeneezer Scrooge had time to change a little.

I find myself in this phase of my life as entering the end game.  I am heading towards 70 now, an age I never could foresee happening.  I began my life with Barbara in the form of a first date 50 years go.  It was not always easy during those years.  There were plenty of rough times mainly because of myself.  We made it though.  During those last years with Barbara we grew closer to each other on a daily basis.

Now the nest is not only empty, my whole life feels empty at times.  The house especially feels so quiet and empty.  Dutch died last November, Brett of course is out making his way through life and Barbara has been taken to her heavenly home.

I find myself trying to learn how to live on my own by myself.  I have had to overcome my anxiety about making phone calls and still have a ways to go on that.  I have to learn how to keep up the house and keep it in order.  I have to learn to keep doctor and dentist appointments.  I have to learn to keep a healthy diet.  I have learned to keep myself busy and out of the house a day or two each week.  I have found a place to volunteer my time to helping others.

I have to learn to deal with the silence and the emptiness that I feel not only in the house, but in my heart. 

I guess the biggest change from 2013 to 2023 is that in 2013 I felt a purpose.  I was working.  I was taking care of loved ones.  I was being productive. In 2023 I am still productive.  I am still active.  I do feel that in 2023 I am being myself more than I ever had in the past.  I use to spend what seemed like every hour of everyday I was trying to do the right thing, to please somebody to do what was expected of me instead of what I wanted.  I feel like the vast majority of my life was not about me but what others expected of me.  There hasn't been a lot of "Bill" in my life.  I am trying to change that.  Still though there are times that when I do take a step in that direction, I suffer consequences from people who still have those expectations and there is nothing I can do or say to change those attitudes. Even now as I contemplate whether to publish this put it out for the world to read, I have a hesitancy because of some of those factors from long ago. 

But in 2023 I also realize I am aging and as time ticks away ever so quickly I age even faster.  There are times when I feel so alone in a house that in the past I had craved to be alone in once in awhile. 

I feel like I am existing from day to day to day knowing that one day that last breath with finally come.

This writing did not take the course I was thinking it would.  I strayed a little I think.  I do think I painted a picture, albeit a sloppy picture, of how I have changed from who I was in 2013 to who I am today.  I am a work in progress still.  

I keep moving forward.

TAKING CARE OF MYSELF

 Early last week I posted on Facebook that I would no longer be sharing this blog on the platform.  There is a very serious reason for this.

It is me taking care of myself both emotionally and physically.  For those of you who are long time followers of this thing there are probably a few things you already know.  The one that is most relevant in this decision is my long term problems with depression and anxiety.

When my mind broke many years ago, I worked with doctors and therapists and psychiatrist to find a medication that would be best for me.  During this time we had some miserable failures when it came to medication but eventually we found a cocktail that worked.  For over ten years now I have been taking 150mg of Effexor XR, 200mg of Seroquel and a minimal dosage of clonazepam when needed to get me through high anxiety situations.  It had worked well.  I was doing well.  As a matter of fact I had approached psychiatrist and my therapist about the possibility of  taking the dosage of these drugs down just a little bit.  I felt confident that I was learning techniques on how to cope with situations and while I may need some medication to keep the edge off, I was definitely showing improvement.

 Let me be upfront about one thing.  Psychiatrists are not my favorite people.  I have seen four of five of them and each time they have found a way to burn me or plain just not listen.  To me, psychiatrist are the most narcissistic professional Dr that there is. The sad thing is that the people that are their clients can really be damaged more by them then any other professional.  At times, it seems they don't care.

So late fall of 2020, my then Psychiatrist informed me he would no longer accept insurance.  Not just my insurance but ANY insurance.  This is his right to do so, but such a dangerous game for the type of patients that they see.  Without insurance I would be paying this doc approximately $500 for a 10 minute phone call and a few seconds of his time to renew my prescriptions.  I can not afford that.

I made a good faith effort to my primary care doctor asking if he could take over the effexor and seroquel scripts for awhile and he did not feel comfortable with that.  And so I found myself without any scripts and felt like I had no choice but to go cold turkey off my meds.  This is not a good idea, but I felt like I didn't have much choice.

In short, the last month and a half to two months have been pure hell for me.  I have been detoxing off of some very serious drugs on my own and the detoxing side effects are not good.

Now, we all know the craziness of at least the last year and so far into this new year.  Totally bizzare. I found myself in mental places where I did not want to be and social platforms, news outlets .. everything was making my emotional state worse.  I am not pointing at liberals or conservative or anyone in particular, but it was just the whole overwhelming amount of information over running me.  As far as facebook was concerned, I was reading things posted from people, family members and friends, that were so out of character I wasn't sure I recognized them anymore.

I decided I needed a plan.  My plan had to be to simplify my life as much as possible. And thus I quit visiting Facebook.  I also quit visiting YouTube which I really use to enjoy.  I basically quit dealing with things that I didn't really need to deal with.  Things that there wasn't anything I could about it anyway.

I have improved my diet to a VERY healthy diet.  I have quit drinking coffee after 12 noon everyday.  I quit taking my usual afternoon naps so I would be able to sleep better at night.  I took up old activities that I use to love and still do.  I read a lot.  I play my piano.  I watch sporting events and fun tv shows.  I have been reacquainting my self with my DVD collection.  I try to excersize at least every other day for a bit. The highlight of each week though is on Sunday morning going out to breakfast followed but attending church services with a very dear friend every Sunday morning.  Just doing things that might help me enjoy life a little more.

What I do not do anymore ... no Facebook or social platforms of any kind.  No Youtube.  I do not watch network television.  I do not watch the "news" programs anymore. I do not listen to music anymore while falling asleep but just put my earbuds in to dampen any outside noise. Clarification, i DO listen to music quite a bit still, just not at bedtime.

I am trying to get myself healthy.  Mentally and physically.

Stopping posting or sharing this blog was not a protest or anything.  It was a health issue.  so far taking all these steps have help a little as I go through each day one step at a time.

And the thing is ... I can honestly say I do not miss Facebook, Youtube, the "news" or anything else that could bring about my anxiety or emotional problems.

SO that is what I am doing.  I am simply trying to care of myself.  Trying to survive from day to day. This is the way I feel it has to be for me right now.  FOR ME.  

I do ask you one favor though.  If we should run into each other in a store or something, please please please respect what I outlined here as to what I am trying to do.

I'll keep writing.  Writing is good for me.  It keeps me thinking and 99% of what I write is not opinion pieces anyway but rather just stories from my life as I remember them.

Hope you all can follow this, if not that is okay.  This blog was originally started as something I could do to ease my anxiety and depression anyway.  Wasn't really meant for anyone but me, but I like to share some of my memories.  I have had a lot of good memories over the years.  I have had some sad times as well.

Love y'all ... and please do take care of yourselves out there. 

Bill

JUST A LITTLE CHIT-CHAT

I just noticed that I have not written or posted since July 6th earlier this year.  That is too long of a period between posts.  So let's see what we can come up with.

Today is Tuesday.  Election Day in the United States.  Yeah .... not going to write about that.  I am not going to write about politics at all. You all probably pretty much know what my thoughts are ... at least most of you.  There are those that think they know where my stance is when it becomes apparent that they do not have a clue.  

This whole year has been marred by the CV-19 virus.  No sense in talking about that either.  Lifestyles for all of us have been completely turned upside down.  The thing about this virus thing is that it has been tied to politics and the election and so everyone is up in arms against each other across the board.  Nah, not going to write about that either.

Major League Baseball was different this year.  To me it was a little disappointing.  Because of the virus restrictions, the Majors only played a 60 game season.  They went ahead with the playoffs and had a World Series.  I decided that for me, this was not a legitimate World Series and should not go into the record books.  My basis was that a mere 60 games is not nearly enough games for the cream to rise to the top.  You need at least 162 games for the best teams to prove their worth over time.  However, I was glad they did play this so called World Series because of the last 30 seconds of game 4.  That little amount of time made the whole thing worthwhile.  I encourage you to check out the 9nth inning of game 4.  Definitely worth your time.  But baseball was redefined by the virus and I don't want to write about the virus ... so I am not going to write about baseball.

Actually when you stop to think about it, just about every part of life was touched by either the virus or politics.  Perhaps that is why I haven't written in so long.

I was planning on traveling to Alabama in March to visit my mother and family members but thanks to the virus, It was delayed.  Mom was in lock down at her living facility so there was not much point in going.  I did finally make it to Alabama in mid-October though.  My little brother and his wife, myself and my mother and sister and her husband celebrated mom's 90th birthday a month and a half early.  Mom was able to escape from her facility to spend a week at my sisters.  It was a good visit.  It wasn't a perfect visit though.  I fell off my sister's front porch one night while staring up at the wonderment of the stars and tore up my knee and my ribs.  Those of you who have been following this blog know that I do not have a very high pain threshold and this hurt.  Then there was the hurricane that blew through putting my return to Kansas City off by a day so I wouldn't be driving through it.  Other than those two things, it was a very good week.  I am happy to report that my mother is in very good health and we were able to avoid any political talk.

I don't want this to be a wrap up of the year and it feels like it is turning into that.  I want to save that for December.

Social media ... well, I have been limiting my time on Facebook and stuff because, quite frankly, there is too much hatred flying around the election.  One of my dear friends accused me of being a troll and told me to go somewhere else to do my trolling.  I do not troll.  I asked a question concerning a post by said friend that I did not have the answer to.  Apparently it offended my friend so I was labeled a troll.  I don't play games like that.  If I ask a question, it is a sincere one.  Then there is all of the ignorance people seem to be showing .... nope, not going to go there.  I just have been staying off my computer and the internet a lot.  I don't need all of the arguments and stuff in my life right now and I certainly do not need to be called names or labeled as something I am not.  When I do get on the internet, it is to get news of those that I care about.  How they are doing.  Seeing pictures of my nieces and nephews so I can enjoy them since I can't see them.  I have reconnected with old friends, a couple who are very special in my life as I was growing up.  It has been a good experience.

I can say this about the year so far.  I still miss a lot of people who influenced my life and have passed on.  That will never change.  I still take my grandpa with me everywhere I go in the form of one of his bandanas in my rear pocket of my jeans.  I have been carrying one ever since he died.  On my way to bed each night, one of the last things I do is kiss my fingers and then touch them to a picture of Barbara that I moved out into the living area of the house.  I don't say anything or stop and look at her picture, just give her a tiny kiss each night ... well most nights... at least once a week or so  Last week marked 2 years since my dad passed away in that horrible year of 2018.  I brought out some more of my Uncle Dan's works of art to display and think of him often when I see the results of his marvelous talent.

Now I often stop and ponder my own aging. I turned 64 last month.  One more year until my planned retirement.  I remember when grandpa retired and when my father retired.  Seems so long ago.  Now I am facing my own step into that part of life.  My twilight years are definitely upon me.

This brings about thoughts of my own death.  The thought of dying does not bother me.  I am not scared of dying.  One of my friends reminds me often "To every season ..." and she is right.  There is a time for everything and that includes dying.  Don't get me wrong now, I am not ready to die quite yet.  I feel like I have a few more years on this earth left in me.  However, if my doctor told me I had a week left?  No big deal.  I am ready to deal with that possibility.

I do feel like I am starting to burn out at my job, which is kind of sad.  I have loved my job my whole adult life.  I have loved the company I work for and have been faithful to it.  But I am getting tired I think.  I began to feel the burnout after Barbara died and it has slowly increased.  I think that whole second half of 2018 pretty much burned me out on life in general.  Sometimes, I simply do not care anymore.  Like this election that we are having today.  Yes I think it is important.  Yes I plan on voting.  Bottom line though, is whatever happens, I am not going to have to live with the outcome for very long.  My son will though and that is probably the biggest reason I will vote.  Really though, it is just another election.  This country has survived many of them with different outcomes.  This country will survive this one as well.  But I am not going to talk politics ... remember?

Many of you are bragging "I survived the year 2020!" ... I got that beat easily.  I survived 2018.

YOU AND ME AGAINST THE WORLD BUDDY

I had never had a pet until Barbara got me a German Shepard/Golden Retriever mix pup shortly after we were married.  This pup was a gorgeous dog that had the feathering of the retriever and the facial mask and hind legs of the sheperd.  Stunning looking dog.  He was big and lean and powerful.  He was also very gentle. I named him Milhous after President Nixon.  I know ... that's weird.  Yes it was but it was unique.  I remember taking Milhous to my grandfather's because he loved dogs so much.  My grandpa, a lifetime Democrat, held the pup up and look into his eyes.  Without taking his eyes off of the dog grandpa asked me, "What did you say his name was?"  "Milhous" I answered with great pride and grandpa just chuckled to himself as was his way before telling me, "You know .... when this dog finds out what you have done to him he is going to turn on you."  We both laughed.  Grandpa enjoyed the opportunity to be witty as he always did.

This began a short tradition of mine.  Well, not short as far as time is concerned but short in the number of dogs this tradition effected.  Milhous was eventually poisoned and died from internal organ damage at the hands of some unstable neighbors.  I mourned the loss of Milhous.  My first pet was gone.  Barbara worked on talking me into getting another dog.  We eventually did get a pup that would become a Christmas present for the family.  I named him "Rudolph" or Rudy for short.  It fit well because it was Christmas time and I could tell Brett he was named after Santa's reindeer but in reality he was named after President Ford, whose middle name was Rudolph.  The tradition had begun.  We were on a path of naming our dogs after Republican Presidents which left my mother very confused as to why I would do such a thing and cause my grandfather to further worry about me and my philosophy.  It was fun.

Rudy and I were nearly inseparable.  We went walking every weekend no matter the weather.  He rode with me on rides everywhere I went almost.  Rudy knew his limits but pushed them as far as he could.  Sometimes he would slip out the front door and take off running.  Luckily Rudy loved all our neighbors and when he got out all that had to be done was one of the neighbors to call to him and he would go to their house to get petted and wait for me to arrive to take him home. If it happened that none of the neighbors were out, Rudy would take off running down the street.  I would casually walk into the house and get the car keys to drive down the street about eight houses where Rudy would be sitting on the curb waiting for my arrival.  When I got to him I would open the car door and he would casually get into the car and get a ride around the block, which thrilled him.  Rudy had a good life but as is the case in many retrievers, his hips eventually wore out due to joint displacement.  He could no longer pull himself up from when he was lying down.  Wherever he lay down, he was stuck until I came along to pick him up.  He was in pain and did not have a great quality of life and so we made the painful decision to let him go.  Barbara could not even go into the room where Dr. Lyle was going to give Rudy the shot.  Brett stayed for a few minutes but then he had to leave.  In the end it was just me and Rudy along with the Doctor as he slipped off.  I had  slept on the floor with him the night before and now I was lying next to him the next morning so he would not be alone.  Once again I mourned and once again Barb worked on talking me into getting a third dog.

Emporia, Kansas was where our next dog hailed from.  He was a pure bred Golden Retriever and a member of the American Kennel Club.  His official name on the papers is "Clark's Ronald Wilson "Dutch" Reagan".  Obviously I had high expectations from this dog.  Dutch latched onto Barb from the early days as she trained him and got him prepared to be a dog that stood to my expectations.  She was pleased with how Dutch would snuggle up with her instead of me and I predicted to her that he might be your pup, but he is going to be my dog.  That prediction played out and I reminded Barbara of it plenty of times as the years passed.  Like his predecessors, Dutch goes for walks and car rides with me as often as he can.  He minds very well, even taking his medicine without protest.  He still stuck close to Barb though.  As Barb's health began to falter she spent more time at home alone with Dutch.  They were together practically 24/7 for over two years.  Dutch slept on the floor next to Barb.  During this time I was Dutch's play mate while Barb was the comforter and nourished him.  He went to her for petting and loving and to me for throwing balls and running around.

Then came July of 2018. Dutch had not seen much of me for a week.  I would leave early in the morning before sunrise and come home late at night to let him out, feed him and then go to bed.  He was getting needy I think.  He had grown accustomed to not being alone in the house for such long periods of time.  On that Monday though, I arrived home around five in the afternoon.  He met me at the door and started pushing himself into my leg to indicate he wanted to be petted, which I did.  I let him outside and filled his water and food bowls for him before letting him back in and going to my room to take a nap.  He did not follow me.

When I got up a couple of hours later I found him lying next to the couch.  Over the time him and Barbara had spent so much time together, that had become his place to sleep.  Barb slept on the couch, and he slept next to her on the floor.  As I walked into the living room he sat up and looked at me.  His eyes followed me as I went to sit in my chair.I sat in my chair thinking about the days events.  My life would never be the same.  Neither would his.  I looked over at the couch where he was sitting up just staring at me.  It was as if he knew that things had changed.  He stood up and walked over to me and gently laid his head in my lap and we petted for quite a while.  I couldn't take my eyes off of him.  He was very calm, more so than usual.

I finally found some words to say to him.  "It's just you and me buddy" I said as I rubbed his chest and he looked at me. Maybe it was just my mood but his eyes seemed very sad to me.  As we sat there quietly a song from long ago filtered into my head.  "You and Me Against the World" by Helen Reddy.  Beautiful song and the words seemed to fit this quiet time so well.  From now on it would be me and Dutch together making our way through life.

That night as I wandered off to bed, Dutch stayed at his station next to the couch where Barbara was supposed to be.  Her arm was suppose to be reaching down petting him on the head as they both fell asleep.  Even though it had been a week since he had felt that comfort, he stayed next to the couch as if she were there.  It was where he was suppose to be come night time.

Dutch slept next to the couch for three or four months, expecting Barbara to suddenly appear and pet him to sleep.  As was also his custom he would get up at half past five and come to my room to wake me up for work.  I took a trip to Alabama to see mom, dad and my sister and to try to get myself use to the new life I would be facing while Dutch spent some quality time with his brother, Bernard, at my cousins.

Me and Dutch have been getting accustomed to the new reality that we face.  He now comes into my room with me when I go to bed and sleeps on the floor there.  He still wakes me up at five or so every day, including Saturday and Sunday (sigh).  The routine has changed a bit for both of us but we have established one that works for each of us.  He still misses Barbara though.  I can tell.  He comes to me for his petting now but I am sure that in his head he is thinking it isn't the same.  Dad just doesn't do it as comforting as mom did.

Dutch is getting old now.  He has put on weight.  His joints are starting to give him trouble.  He is slow to lie down and slow to get up.  He brings me his ball when it is time to play and lays his head in my lap when it is time to cuddle.  He walks over to the back door and looks back at me over his shoulder when it is time to go outside.  We communicate very well I think.

I dread the day when Dutch is no longer here.  Right now we comfort each other.  We help each other through everyday.  I need Dutch and Dutch needs me.  We are best friends in it together and we keep trying to move forward together.

Yes I do fear the day when I will lose him but for now, "it is you and me buddy".  We will get through as much of this as we can ... together ... as a team.

I love you Dutch.

BURNOUT - THE OTHER SIDE OF PROGRESS

The last writing I did was a report on the small progress I have made since I lost Barbara.  I do believe I have had progress, but it is so difficult to continue pushing my way and extending that progress.  I still have a long ways to go.

I have come to realize that along side the progress I have made there is a polar opposite going on in my life.  Burnout.  I feel so tried most of the time.  Part of the inner fatigue that I feel is from trying to continue with the progress in those small areas as I described previously.  It takes a lot out of me to push myself to clean on the house, to do the laundry, to cook for myself and especially to make those phone calls.  There are many times when I just simply do not feel like doing those things and sometimes, to be honest, I do not do them but rather put them off for a day or so.

The biggest part of my life that is suffering burnout though is my job.  I find myself with no desire to get up and go to work every day.  To understand this, I guess you need to know how I approached my job before the summer of 2018 slapped me in the face.  I absolutely loved my job.  Each day I looked upon it as a new challenge to be faced and defeated.  I was always early arriving and worked hard throughout the day and accomplished a lot.  I pushed myself to work as fast and as accurately as possible, to meet deadlines.  I was good at it.  My job is not one of physical labor but rather mental labor.  I was thinking non-stop for 8 hours a day and then more after I got home and as I was readying and driving to work the next day.  I would have projects I was working on burned into my memory and be solving problems a lot of the time while in the car or when I was supposed to be watching a movie with Barbara.  Many times Barb would say something to me and I had no clue what she was talking about.  I was working in my mind.

On days when I would wake up to find a fresh layer of snow on the ground, I saw it as another challenged to be faced and brought down.  I got this from my dad.  When it snowed, we were more determined to make it to the office early then on any other day.  It was a feeling of accomplishment to defeat the roads and the snow and the traffic of others who did not seem to know how to drive in the snow.  Both me and dad always won those mornings in the snow.

Now I feel burned out though.  My motivation is all but completely gone.  Those things that I listed in my progress piece, you will notice I never say I got this.  I have overcome this.  No, it is a work in progress.  I have to will myself to get up and do some cleaning on the house.  I have to will myself to gather my clothes and go downstairs to wash them.  I have to will myself to make those phone calls.  When answering a phone, if the caller ID is not there or it is a name I don't recognize, I do not answer it.  I have to will myself to go to the store.  It seems like most of the time, I just sit in my chair, next to Barbara's chair and watch the time go by.

My job is where I can feel the burn out the most though.  Now my mind totally forgets about any project I am working on the minute I decide it is time to go home.  Going home time.  That use to mean about thirty or forty minutes later than when I should have left the office.  Now as soon as it hits 3:30, I am gone.  Long gone.  I don't give my job another thought until I am sitting in my chair the next day.  Work tires me out.  It use to be an adventure everyday at the office.  Come up with new ideas, design them, make them work.  Untangle an obscene number of lines into individual circuits so that they don't cross and everything works as it should.  I use to think of laying out those printed circuit boards as being like working a puzzle everyday and it was a challenge.  Now, I pull up the program that I use to create those boards and I feel tired almost immediately just by looking at all those lines.  I have a deadline though and so I push my way though it and do the best that I can.  It wears me out though.

My productivity at the office is definitely decreasing.  I am not as fast as I once was.  I go about my job, whether it be mechanical or electrical, with a very definite pace, a slow pace.  This last winter, for the first time I can ever remember, I awoke to seeing snow on the streets.  I stood there and looked at it.  The feeling of a challenge in the snow was gone.  I did not want to get out in it.  The snow had finally won.  I called the office and took a day of vacation.  Last winter each time it snowed over night, I stayed home.  I didn't seem to feel that my job was so important for me to drag myself out and fight those slippery streets.

If I were at the point where I hope to be in the near future, I would walk into the office and quit on the spot.  I am tired.  I have put forty years of my life into this company.  That is a lot of time. I have traveled for this company.  The company sent me to Chicago, Los Angeles, Phoenix, Dallas, Boston, Seattle, Denver, and over a two year period I was in San Fransisco every other week for a week at a time.  Two years in the Bay Area.  I enjoyed it then.  I don't think I would now though.  I am too tired to hit the road for the company any more.  I think that they can sense it in me.

Sometimes, I feel burned out on life.  Getting up everyday and going through the same routine over and over and over .... but I keep going.  Barbara left a note on her computer just in case her surgery did not go the way we wanted it to, which it did.  In the opening line of that note, she practically begs me to keep on going even though she knows I will be tempted not to.  She knew it would be hard but she also knew that it was important for me to keep pushing though life and she knew I could do it.  So here I am.  Pushing through life.  To be honest, I am not enjoying life as much as I use to.  Things are so different without her to bounce ideas off of, to make jokes with, to have a partner walking beside me.  I am alone.  Yes I have cousins and other family members around, it isn't the same though.  There is no way it could be the same.

 I have tried to figure out what has caused this burnout in me since Barbara passed.  I think that it has something to do with how my life has been the last several years.  I have spent my time being a caregiver, taking care of people.  I took care of my uncle.  I took care of my sister.  I took care of mom and dad, and finally I took care of Barbara.  My uncle died.  My sister died.  MY parents moved to Alabama where my father died.  and finally, the last person I took care of, Barbara, died.  I am not a caregiver to anyone now.  I feel like that had become my sense of purpose in life.  Now they are all gone and I find myself alone.Even though I know it isn't the case, the idea pops into my head that I failed at taking care of my uncle, sister and wife.  I know that isn't true but the thought does creep in once in awhile.  I did the absolute best that I could for all of them.  That is the best reasoning I can come up with for feeling so burned out and alone.

All I know for sure is that I am tired.  That I feel alone.  I feel this way because I lost Barbara, the one constant in my life for over 42 years.

Okay.  I know you all are getting tired of me writing about Barbara ALL the time so I am going to try to write more about my past and things that I experienced in life.  The things that most of my readers are here for.  Life is interesting and some of the things that happen to us, well, they can be pretty bizarre and funny.  So I am going to dig back into my brain and try to remember things.  Millions of memories are buried in there, it is just a matter of digging them out and sharing them.

Thank all of you for your patience with me over the last year or so.

ONE YEAR AND THE PROGRESS MADE

It was July 23, 2018 when my wife of 42 years  left this world for the next.  At the time I had spent a week by her side while she lay in a coma.  God had given me the time to prepare for what I was about to go through.  A year ago last Sunday, on July 28, 2018, we laid Barbara to rest in a spot we had purchased when death was the furthest things from our minds in 1982.  It was the next day as I sat in my house alone for the first time that a new life began for me.  A life without Barbara.

As I sat there thinking the events of the last two weeks and the last 42 years over I realized I was not ready for this new style of living.  I didn't want this new style of living.  I wanted my Barbie back.  The reality of her no longer being with me hurt like nothing I had ever experienced before.  I did not think I was capable of taking care of things the Barb had.  I did not know how to pay bills electronically.  I did not know so many things about what Barb did during the day while I was at work to keep the house moving along in spite of her pain and fatigue.

I would learn though.  I had no choice but to learn.  I spent the better part of the year trying to straighten out her Social Security Disabled status and getting the billing for her hospital stay that week to the proper insurance companies.  It was frustrating.  It was hard.  On top of that I was still learning the workings of the house.  I had to learn the dog's daily schedule.  I had to remember to clean things once in awhile.  Apparently they just didn't get done by themselves.  It was during this time that I came to realize how dependent I truly was on Barbara for so many little things.  The time that it takes to get those little things taken care of add up quickly.  I am so very thankful that Lori was there on a daily basis to help Barbara and to keep an eye on her.  Lori allowed Barbara to do what she could so her self esteem would not drop but take over when Barbara could not do anymore each day.

It seemed that as each day passed without Barbara, my sadness and grief would grow.  For the past several years when I would come home from work each day, Barbara managed to get out of her chair and her and Dutch would go to the front door, open it up and greet me as I walked up the sidewalk.  I never realized how much that meant not only to me, but to Barbara as well.  It was something that she could do to make my day a little better after a rough day at the office.  Now as each day passed and I would come home from work walking up the sidewalk, the door would remain closed.  Dutch would be on the other side of that door waiting for it to open.  Each day as Dutch and I went through that new ritual I found myself missing Barbara just a little bit more.

As difficult as those things were, they were the easy part of learning a new life without Barbara.  The biggest event that happened was three months and two days later when my father was also called home.  When my grandfather and both my grandmothers had died, Barbara had been there to hold me up.  When my Uncle Danial passed away, who I had been so very close to, Barbara was there to hold me up.  When my sister Carol succumbed to cancer, again Barbara was there to hold me up.  Now daddy was gone and I sat at home by myself alone with not only the thoughts of Daddy, but missing the support that I always got from Barbara.  I went to Alabama to talk at dad's funeral service there and found myself looking for Barbara to talk to from the pulpit as I had at Dan's memorial service.  Barbara was not to be found though and I had an extremely difficult time getting through that talk without her.  It was the first time I had publicly spoken where I did not have an anchor to keep my emotions in check and I did not do very well.  I found myself looking at three faces to try to be that anchor, my nephew Bo, my niece Kimberly Joyce and my great niece Haylee.  However all three of those loving faces could not bring me the inner strength that the one face of Barbara had always brought to me.

I started writing this about a month ago.  I set it aside for a time in order to take a hard look at the progress I have made since July of 2018.  I think I have progressed fairly well.

Progress.  It has been small and slow steps.  I stop and think about it, and it is an entirely different life and lifestyle that I have never experienced before.  It has been a learning experience.

I have come to the point where I can look at pictures of Barbara and recall the memory that goes along with the picture.  I can remember it as a good memory and smile, enjoying the memory in the moment.  However, these moments are also still filled with sadness but it is no longer a crushing sadness of realizing she is gone.  It has morphed into a good sadness.  I can smile and still miss her.

That is the biggest part of my progress I guess.  Just being able to have memories and enjoy them a little along with the sadness.

I have begun to get out a little more instead of planting myself in the house.   I am getting more comfortable going to the grocery store and buying for one instead of two.  That is a more difficult than most people would realize.

Then there is the telephone situation.  I have not changed our outgoing message.  If you call me and I do not pick up, Barbara's voice will still explain that we are busy, please leave a message.  I am not sure if I want to change these recording or not.  On the one hand, I have a place that I can call and hear Barbara's voice whenever I want.  On the other hand, I have no idea how to change the messages.  This leads to my substantial progress in learning how to use the cell phone.  This piece of equipment was totally foreign to me.  I have learned over the last year how to actually use it in ways that help me get things done.  I have learned how to text, and I use to despise texting.  I have learned how to browse on it and how to use the calendar and clock.

The other side of progress on the phone is making phone calls.  I am not good at this.  I do not particularly like talking on the phone and I have a real problem making a phone call.  I can answer a call much easier than placing a call.  Anxiety over takes me when I try to do this.  For all those years I had Barbara there to take care of things over the phone.  She would make the calls and get things straightened out.  Now I have to do that myself.  I am getting better at it.  I have learned that it is better to just jump in and make the call and most of the time things will work out.  I used to procrastinate making a call until after it was too late to make the call.  I had to learn how to do this fairly quickly as I took care of all of the paperwork involving Social Security, Medicare, and all of the hospital bills that were created for Barbara's care.  I still freeze a little when preparing to place a call but I am much better at jumping in and just doing it.

I have progressed a tiny bit on going through some of Barbara's things and getting things in order by either getting rid of stuff or finding a proper place for what I want to keep.  Going through her clothes  is the toughest part for me.  I have yet to make a dent in all of her outfits but I am getting there.  I know what I have to do.  I know how it will turn out.  It is just difficult getting rid of anything of Barbara's.  It is something that needs to be done.  I know this.

Going through Barbara's clothes is one area where I need to make progress.  The other area where I feel like I have not made any progress is coming home and not being met at the door.  I find it fairly easy to leave the house but extremely difficult coming home.  I still want to be met at the door and I feel the sadness come over me each time I arrive home.  The house, other than Dutch, is empty.  Everything is exactly as it was when I left.  This is more or less an everyday thing that gives to me that cloud of sadness and loneliness.  The house is quiet as I go through the motions of letting Dutch out, putting things away. or doing whatever needs to be done.  When I come home from someplace, it is when I am the most lonely and sad.  I have not gotten use to this feeling, to the quiet, to the emptiness. This is what I am trying to work on now.

So I have made a lot of progress in little steps, but I have a long ways to go yet.  I still love her and miss her and I always will.  Changing your style of living after 42 years is not an easy thing to do.  The best progress I have made is being able to enjoy the memories.  We had a lot of good memories made during our time together.  I will always cherish those times.

UNFAIRNESS OF LIFE

This is a difficult subject that has been  in and out of my brain many times and causes me confusion.  I think we all can agree that life is not fair.  In one way or another, one situation or another life just does not seem to play out fairly.

Life is unfair sometimes when it comes to wealth.  Life can be unfair when it comes to being able to be mentally healthy.  Life can be unfair with just about any situation you can think of.  The part of life that I want to address is the unfairness of life when it comes to health and unfair with the issue of life and death.

To begin with I think I need to state a few things.  I do believe in God.  I believe that we can be saved by God through belief in His Son and that eternal life through this salvation is true.  I am not sure how it all works, however, but I am sure it does.  For example, does God really decides when your time has come?  If He does does this make him a terribly unfair God?  Is there a reason for things that happen, or do we, our human selves, find a reason for things that happen and attribute it to Providence.  I simply have not come to a conclusive realization as to what really happens.  I realize that many of the readers of my blog do not believe the same way I do and so they may look at this subject from a different perspective.

There are so many different starting points on this subject, it is difficult to know where to start.  I suppose the one place to start is to look at a few people who have passed through no fault of their own or others for that matter.  Death visited and took them when they had so much more to give to the world.  I have written about a few of these.  I have written about Alesia Dawn who died in her mid teens of heart failure after being declared healthy and set for a normal life two weeks prior by her doctor.  I have written about Rachel, a young lady in her early twenties who had a tumor in her brain steal her from a world that needs more people as she was.  Both of these young ladies had so much to give, were so loved by families, friends and communities that the logic of losing them seems totally unfair.  I read about teenagers who kill younger children and yet they are allowed to live out a normal life, albeit under capture and in prison, but they are still living while Alesia and Rachel are gone.Is this really fair?  For it to even come close to being fair, there must be a message, a reason for Alesia and Rachel passing and a message or reason for the killer kids to be allowed to live a full life.  While I can look and see a few good things to come about after Alesia and Rachel died, it is difficult for me to see that these things outweigh the impact they would have had on people if they had lived.  Both of them were so special and loving and just plain good.

Another friend I wrote about was Laurie.  She was coming up on middle age when while on a business trip, she died during the night by herself in a hotel room in a strange city.  It was a natural death and made no sense at all.  Laurie was a person who had a great sense of humor and could put a smile on anyone's face.  She loved people and she loved life, yet it was taken from her for reasons that no one knows.  She was just gone.  Meanwhile so many people her same age that cause pain and hurt on humanity continue to go from day to day, out on the streets spreading hate and hurt wherever they go.  It was not fair to Laurie, or the rest of the world to lose her.

I have watched as two of my co-workers lost battles with cancer over the years.  Both of them were my age.  Both of them were very good responsible people who were liked, if not loved, by most people in the office and in their lives.  Why?  They each left a spouse and children behind.

Now I hear of another friend who is apparently entering her final battle with a cancer that she has fought for years.  She spreads love and kindness wherever she goes.  She is an inspiration to those that know her.  She is a helper to members of her family that need her.  She guides nieces and nephews as they try to make their way through life.  And now it looks as though the battle is coming to an end. Someone who has worked so hard to help is rewarded by taking the life they love away.

Stopping a moment to make it clear, I do believe all of these people have been given eternal life by He who promised it to them.  It doesn't ease the pain or the feeling of loss or what they meant to the world to make any sense though,  Not to me.  It is hard for me to understand.

Even when elderly people die, there seems to be an unfairness to it.  We can look at someone who has lived a long life and be thankful that we had them for so long.  The pain and loss is still there but we can look at their lives as a whole and see a whole library of things that they had accomplished and the differences they made.  Then my mind shifts to one man.  One man who is still alive in California and living off of the government and shows no sign of dying.  Charles Manson.  Is it fair that my Uncles have died while Manson continues to thrive and be taken care of and not making any contribution to society or to humankind whatsoever?  There are lots of Mansons out there who continue to make their way through life while others have passed and I am sorry but I would much rather have my aunts and uncles alive and teaching me rather than see a news report on Manson every six months.  Fairness is not present even when an elderly person passes.

Finally, what about the fairness to those who are left behind after the death of a loved one?  I am not sure how I would be able to see others complain about kids or friends or family members when I have lost mine.  I am pretty sure I would feel frustrated, hurt, angry ... all kinds of emotions.

What about a mother who loses her father, has her son take his own life because of bullying, and loses her husband when they have only had thirty years or so together?  Then her daughter and another son fall ill while she tries to continue on and keep the family together?  It isn't her fault to have all these things befall her and it certainly isn't fair when looking at other families around who cause trouble and are what some would describe as pure evil.

Life is not fair when it comes to matters of life and death.  I am not sure why I felt compelled to write this other than to express my own confusion at the seemingly randomness of it all, and the random feeling makes it feel so unfair.

This is a confusing writing I know.  It is just thoughts flying off the top of my head and going down to the keys.  More or less, I think this is to serve me as a starting point in which to be able to think about these things and try to come to an understanding.  I am not sure if understanding it is possible though.

I don't care so much for my life.  It is something in my head that makes me feel that I would be happy to trade places with Alesia or Rachel or Laurie or anybody I know that is being taken unfairly.  Each time I hear of someone and my head says "that is SO unfair" the next thought is immediately "Let me take their place".  Let the world receive all that they have to give.  It is much more than I have to give.

This is just a starting off point, I think, in my quest to make sense of things.  To understand.  I know it doesn't make sense, but then again, you all get a first hand look into my mind and the way it thinks.

Maybe this will help me.  Maybe it will help you.  Maybe it will make us all just stop and think a little.  I don't know.

JUST FACTS, NOT A "WOE IS ME" ENTRY

I don’t push people away …. I have got to be the most misunderstood person around.  Misunderstood or not known.  People don’t me.  Not the real me, the me that is deep inside, the me that they hurt without realizing it, the me that is taken advantage of constantly, the real me.

Sometimes, a lot of times, I just want to disappear.  I don’t like people.  I don’t like noise.  I don’t like being told what to do by ungrateful people.  I don’t like being ignored until it is convenient not to ignore me for a few minutes.

But it is ME that is at fault.  I don’t get it.  I do whatever I am asked and more.  “It is what it is”.  Things are what they are.  I didn’t see things evolving with people the way they have turned out to be.  It isn’t my fault that things are the way they are.  It isn’t my fault but I pay the price as though it were.

But I push people away.  I am there at the snap of a finger whenever anyone snaps their finger at me.  Is the fact that I really don’t ask anyone for anything mean I am pushing them away?  No.  It means I want to live and die on my own.  On my own conditions, time table, and where I want to.

“I ain’t asking nobody for nothing if I can get it on my own.  If you don’t like the way that I’m living, you just leave this long haired country boy alone.” (Charlie Daniels)  What is wrong with not enjoying getting my hair cut?  I have ALWAYS hated to get my hair cut.  Not because I want it long or am trying to make a statement, I just do not like the feeling of getting my hair cut.  It means nothing more than that.  I don’t like to shave.  Does that make me a mountain man or something because I don’t like to shave?  It simply means I do not like to shave.  Hate it.

Who am I kidding, they won’t miss me one bit.  No one will. And I don’t care if they do or not.

“From now on all my friends are gonna be strangers.  I'm all through, ever trusting anyone.  The only thing I can count on now is my fingers,  I was a fool …” (Haggard)

Is it strange that I use music to do a lot of my talking for me?  Probably is, but I don’t care.  I can relate to some of these songwriters, philosophers …. They say some pretty honest things in their songs.  Brutally honest.  So honest it makes you think … “wow .. oh man … he knows me …”  The people that seem to know me best are people that don’t know I exist, and I mean they actually don’t know I am around, not like those that know I am around but until they need something, don’t know I exist.   The people that know me best … let’s see… Hank of course, Haggard, Willie, Paul Simon, Dylan, Lennon, Seger, Chapin, Kristofferson, Kooper,  the boss, Levon Helm and Robbie Robertson,  David Gates and James Griffin,  Billy Joel to a degree, Cat Stevens, Neil Young,  McLean, Don Henly, Greg Lake, Clapton,  Jackson Browne,  Mellencamp, Leon, Zevon … list could go on forever.

This sounds like a “Woe is me..” thing.  It isn’t.  It is fact.  Pure logical fact.

The time that I feel I can be truly me, without judgment from others, when I can find that solace that I crave, is late at night by myself either reading, watching a documentary or a movie, or lying in my little bed with the earbuds on.  Most times I listen to music, but a lot of times I listen to Supreme Court Arguments, or Kevin and Mosh, or TESD.  I love documentaries and I love movies and something by Charlyne Yi or an episode of House or one of the Law and Orders.  It is sad to think that Bruce, Carlin and Hicks are gone.  They were able to use fact, logic, and tell the truth about how crazy this world, or life can be.  A lot of the things that those three said are funny on the surface, but if you really break it down to what they are saying, it is kind of sad in a way.  The truth seems to always be sad.

My grandfather.  Oscar Laclede Hill.  The closest thing to perfect as a man can be, right?  We all look up to him and his life and what we knew about him and his wisdom.  He was far from the picture that we paint of him in our memories.  He once told me that even as much as we talked, there were things in his life he was ashamed of.  Things he would never tell another human being.  There were a lot of things that I would never know about him and that was just the way it was going to be.  I often wonder about the afternoon he told me that.  Why he told me that and what some of those things could be.  I don’t have a clue, and that was how he wanted it.  Doesn’t mean he was a fake or lived a lie, he still was a very good man, but there was that part of the REAL Oscar Hill that nobody knew, or would ever know.  I wonder if his wife even knew.

As I get older, there seems to be less and less people to look up to.  When I was a young boy, I looked up to my grandfather and my dad and a host of baseball players that I knew only from watching them on the field.  They were classy men, these ball players.  Dick Green, Campy Campanaris, Carl Yastrzemski, Brooks and Frank Robison, Hank Aaron, Noland Ryan, Roger Maris, Curt Flood and Bob Gibson, Al Kaline and Bill Freehan, Rick Monday and again, the list could go on and on.  I don’t look up to sport figures anymore.  I admire their ability and talent and the way they act on the field, but over the years the reality that they are just ordinary people that has a part of them hidden away that no one knows, has come to be reality for me.

Now who do I look up to … well, my grandfather and my father.  Some those song writers mentioned earlier who had the guts to post about reality as they saw it.  I don’t look up to politicians and especially Presidents.  Everyone is hiding something.  Nobody is fully themselves.  Nobody really knows anybody.  I suppose that is one way we all get along.  Hide a lot of ourselves so people only see the best we can put out there.  Sometimes, for some of us, even the best we can put out there is pretty bad.

I’ll tell you who I look up to.  One person I look up to is Rachel Gibson.  A fine young lady who left this world far before the world was ready for her to leave.  She was brave.  She was strong.  She kept her faith. And she comforted those who she was preparing to leave behind.  I admired that young lady long before she entered into the last phase of her life here on earth.   Now I am sure that Rachel had her faults just as all of us do, she was human after all.  But her being human was surpassed by her ability to be humane.

Another person I look up to is Caleb Hill.  Caleb is my cousin’s son.  Caleb was born with Down Syndrome which is what makes Caleb even more of a person to look up to then he would have been if he had not been born with the syndrome.  Caleb is intelligent.  Caleb is caring and loving.  Caleb is honest.  Caleb looks at life with thankfulness and lives life the way life should probably be lived by all of us.  Caleb has found inner strength to bypass the syndrome as best as he can and he does a great job of it.  Honesty like Caleb’s is something all of us could strive for, but we don’t and we won’t.

I look up to my niece Kimberly Porter, her husband Shawne and two wonderful kids that they adopted from China, Joshua and Mei.  The challenges that happen on a daily basis for Kimberly and especially Mei, would wear the normal person out and have an urge to just give up.  Not Kim though.  She is unbeatable when it comes to raising her kids and helping them face each day on a day to day basis.  Shawne is just as strong as Kim and just as dedicated to those two kids.  I admire both of them.  All four of them.

There are other people out there that I could say I look up to for various reasons.  One thing they all have in common though is that there is a part of them the world will never ever see.

Okay.  Stop and re-read what I have written so I know how I got to where I am in this thing.  Took a HUGE left turn back there somewhere.

Well, it turned into a bunch of rambling.  People do not understand why I feel or think the way I do.  I don’t either.  I try to be a good person, I try to live up to the ideals I see as making a person good, but I fall short.  We all do.  We all will.   I am not a happy person.  I find less joy in life than most people and I don’t understand it.  When something bad or not so good does happen to me, it seems to affect me a lot harder than it would other people.  I don’t understand it.  I feel it.  I know it is there.  But I don’t understand it.

There are times, many times, when I just want to go to my bed and just sleep.  Sleep more, and more and more.  Just sleep so I don’t have to deal with anything or anyone. Just sleep and let time flow by without me being aware of it passing.  Forever.

ROBIN WILLIAMS - DEPRESSION

I didn't think I would be writing another entry here this soon but I feel I have to after learning of Robin Williams alleged suicide last night.

A lot of people think they deal with depression.  Chances are you don't.  Depression, and mental illness in general, is too often misunderstood and pushed aside.  Depression is one of the worst kind of mental illness.  It is dangerous.  I don't know what Mr. Williams was going through, all I can do is relate what depression is to me.  What true clinical depression is.

I have read people who have written that they have been there ... once in a while.  Once in a while.  Depression does not leave you.  You learn to live with it.  You learn to hide it because people will not understand and will tell you that it will pass, things will get better, pull yourself out of it.  Depression does not heed those words, it doesn't even hear those words.  Depression stays.

Depression stays and drags you down.  Drags you down deep until you don't think you can go any deeper/  It is indeed a dark place but unlike any darkness you have ever known.  You feel totally alone and in a way you are, because nobody knows where you are in that darkness.  They don't see that darkness and so you continue down the road of what they call life all alone and so sad.

Depression grabs a hold of you and won't let go.  There are medicines that can help ease the grip but they don't make the depression go away.  After spending a certain amount of time in this darkness, and getting dragged down as low as you can be dragged, a strange thing begins to happen and this is when depression becomes dangerous.

You get so use to being alone.  You are alone even in a crowd of people.  You are alone even with a group of people who know you well, and care about you, you are alone in your family and they don't have a clue what is going through you mind, what this depression is putting in your mind.  Then things start to change in a way.  The depression starts to bring thoughts into your head and convinces you that these thoughts are logical.  Taking your life is logical.  It makes sense.  It is the right thing to do for everybody around you.

Sometimes it is SO logical you actually think that your friends and family will understand that you did the right thing.  You did what you had to do and they will be happy for you.  This is the danger of depression.  You make plans, you chart out a timeline, and you make preparations to do what is the logical thing to do.

Confusion starts to creep into your head but the depression allows you to justify your thinking.  All of a sudden you feel like you are getting better when in reality, the depression is pulling you down ... down to the end and you think you are right and everyone else isn't thinking the right way, they aren't thinking logically the way you are.

Then, if you are lucky and people pick up on subtle signals that the depression has got you and you have given in to it, they stop you and they put you away.  They lock you up to keep yourself from harming yourself or others until you can get out of the feeling better stage of logic and are brought back up to the level of knowing you were wrong and you find yourself once again in that lonely dark place trying not to fall back into the logical part of depression ... or the part of depression that makes you think you are being logical.

You begin again to fight the depression and you begin to be alone and you start to hide it once again but it is always with you.  You fight to go on, but every single day, EVERY SINGLE DAY you wake up to start the fight anew. and when the day is over and you have survived once again, you fall into a sleep that isn't too restful because you know you have to wage the fight once again the next day.

THAT is depression.  Depression isn't feeling low or blue for a few days or even a week or month.  Depression is there always.  Depression becomes a constant companion and for some that suffer from this horrible disease, depression will win and the logic of taking your own life will take over and no one else will see it coming.  Then the people you know will be dismayed and shocked while all the time, you were doing the right and logical thing.

I know.  I have depression.  I have depression every single day.  IT may ease up at times, but it is always there.

Everytime somebody famous, like Robin Williams, take their own life, people say how horrible depression is.  Unless you live in that darkness, you don't have a clue.

I know.  I have been there.  I am still there.  And I will be fighting my constant companion until the day I die.

Rest in Peace Mr. Williams.  You fought a battle that in many ways is un-winnable.