Adventures in Florida . . .

Sidney always believed (whether rightly or wrongly) that there were geckos hiding behind the big black electrical outlet.

In an effort to promote lagging ticket sales for the bevy of action films starring Nicholas Cage, some theaters are now giving away life size wax replicas of the former "Leaving Las Vegas" Academy Award winner. Although not as easy to carry home as a bobblehead doll, the wax replicas are still rather popular with some moviegoers.

My parents and Sidney arrived safely and without incident in Pittsburgh yesterday morning. My parents seem well, although they have made their displeasure known about the temperatures here being significantly lower than what they had become accustomed to in Florida. Sidney, being the consummate traveller, arrived back at their house and didn't miss a beat, picking up right where he left off. He loves their backyard, and he was clearly happy to be back patrolling it again. He looks great. He was happy to see me, and we got in some quality playing time yesterday. My "youth" probably makes me a little more satisfying to play with than either of my parents (read: my mother). But he is an outstanding little dog, and I was reminded yet again why I have such great affection for him. My mother brought back with her some photos of him engaged in his customary shenanigans in Florida, and I will post some of them in the near future.


And . . . I became an uncle yesterday. Big day.

Right now, my parents and Sidney are on the road making their way back to Pittsburgh from Florida. I know that they won't be thrilled with the cooler weather here, but I am looking forward to seeing them. Especially Sidney. Apparently, he was barking a bit much last night at a motel somewhere in South Carolina while my parents were next door at a Cracker Barrel having dinner. The front desk received some complaints, and they called my parents to let them know. Poor Sidney. He just doesn't know that after six months of hunting geckos in my parents' yard in Florida (and sometimes in the house, too), he is headed back to Pittsburgh where he will have to find something else to hunt in the backyard here. I'm sure he'll be great once he gets home tomorrow. He's still adjusting to be a traveling dog two times a year. I am very excited to see the little guy.


I have recently learned that Sidney had what was probably his first encounter with an elevator last night at the motel, after which he was not so interested in hopping on board this morning. I guess he doesn't like elevators.

I'm a liberal democrat, it's true. But I am not opposed to the death penalty.

Stan was in such a hurry to get to the store to buy a carton of his favorite cigarettes before the tax hike took effect that he forgot to put on his man-bra.

This is Alison Morris. Perhaps you've seen her on TV. I was seated at a big table with her on Saturday night to watch the Pitt game. She's well-educated, well-traveled, has a great career in broadcast journalism, and she's beautiful. There's only one problem. She's a bitch.

Bugger!

Last night's last-second loss stings a bit. It's not quite as bad as 1992/Braves/Pirates/Sid Bream, but it still hurts.

So, I was trying to make plans with my friend Michelle to watch the Pitt game tomorrow afternoon, and we were communicating via text messages and emails. And then, out of nowhere, she called me on my cell phone because she thought it would be easier. Easier to talk on the phone than to try and set up plans using text messages and emails. Huh. I think she just might be on to something. We'll see if it catches on.


And just a little while later . . .

While I was getting my hair cut today, Kelly was telling me a story and she was telling me about how she had posted photos from last weekend on her MySpace and Facebook pages. I don't seem to be able to get away from it.

It's been quite a while since I've been to an actual nightclub. Apparently, now young women talk on their phones, while men simply watch them. I suppose if they want to dance, their phones are their dance partners.


I bet all three of these young women are on Facebook.

Today I added the word "Facebook" to the spelling check feature of my email because it kept getting flagged when I used it in emails. But that's as far as I'm going.

The saga of The Tunnel to Nowhere continues . . .

Well, are they going to finish this disaster or not?

I was sitting at the bar in a local restaurant last night having dinner and a couple of drinks while watching college basketball. A woman came in with her young son and were seated at a table close to where I was perched at the bar. Apparently, her dining experience was not as good as mine because she complained about seemingly every facet of her meal and her son's meal from the moment they sat down. She immediately alienated her server somehow which I didn't quite catch. Then when her server wasn't around, she would grab the attention of other servers passing by to make requests and complaints. She asked for an extra ranch dressing for an appetizer, and then complained when it didn't arrive quickly. (Why don't restaurants just give you an extra dressing or sauce when you order something? It saves us all the trouble of asking for another one and the server having to go get one.) Then when their main courses came, she complained that both her and her son's food were cold, and she sent them back. I didn't stare at the table, but I did look over once or twice, and I noticed that the woman had a perpetual scowl on her face from the beginning of their meal to the end. Shortly after their meals were returned from the kitchen where they were apparently heated up, I sneaked a peek and saw her putting her nose up to the opened end of a bottle of A1 steak sauce to smell it and then making a face of contempt. It wasn't long before she flagged down her server and asked for takeout containers so that they could take most of their food home. Before they left, however, the manager came over to the table, and the woman told her about all of the things that had been wrong with their dining experience. Meanwhile, from what I could tell, the server who waited on them was polite and professional, despite being on the receiving end of a lot of complaining. And I thought to myself that it would probably be impossible to please this woman. For whatever reason, no matter what restaurant she and her son would have gone to or what they would have ordered, she would have complained about it. She was a scowler. And scowlers are never fun. Why would someone like that even go out to dinner if she's not going to be satisfied? It would not be a very pleasant experience, and I think that going out to dinner should be a pleasant experience. And I realize that this sort of thing happens all of the time in restaurants all over the place. I just wonder why.

More adventures for Jim with Facebook . . .

Jim: I got an email that a woman I went to high school with wrote on my "Wall". Still not sure what that means exactly. But I can say with a pretty high degree of confidence that in four years of going to high school together, she never spoke one word to me. Of course, that goes both ways. I don't expect that I ever talked to her either. And not that there's anything wrong with that.

Now I have some kind of graffiti or vandalism on my Wall. What is the etiquette here? Am I obligated to respond to this, even though I've never spoken to this person? After all, what it really boils down to is she's just trying to be friendly, right? And, I assume, she wouldn't have had access to write on my Wall if I hadn't accepted her email request to be my "friend". So now am I being rude if I accept her as my friend, but then ignore her message on my Wall? I don't need to go pissing anyone off. Look what that guy in Alabama just did because he perceived that some people had slighted him...

Email . . .

Jim: My wife invited me to be her "friend" on facebook and talked me into opening an account this week. How cool am I? Only I've now come to find out that facebook is passe and all of the cool kids are Twittering. But at least I now have 33 "friends" already on facebook, almost all of whom are people from my high school class who I never talked to or hung out with in high school and have never been in touch with ever since our high school graduation.

Is this really what the internet has come to? God I miss the days of free internet porn.

Dave: Apparently, Facebook is the new big thing with people in our age range. It's scary. I keep getting invitations from people to be their "friend," and they always say that they tried to hold out but that they eventually gave into the "peer pressure" to join. I'm not doing it.

Jim: But now I'm finally popular!!!

I haven't felt compelled to write about anything recently. I have gotten into a bit of a routine, which helps me to keep the worst of the depression away. I still have good days and bad days. But I've been able to manage fairly well since I returned from Florida four weeks ago today.

I've been thinking a lot about Sidney lately. He's just such a good dog. I can't really say that I or my mother have done anything particularly special to make him the way he is. I think he just came that way. And to think, I picked him out on a website for dachshunds in search of new homes. And then I drove to Ohio to meet him and bring him home. Now he is a very important part of my parents' lives and my life. I'm very much looking forward to when he returns to Pittsburgh with my parents in early April. It will be great to see him and play with him. Maybe he can even come stay with me for a few days. Just a little visit to his first home after I adopted him. Hopefully, someday, Sidney and I will be reunited for good.

Writing about Sidney also gives me an excuse to post a photo of the handsome little fellow.

I turn 40 tomorrow. As if I wasn't already in a reflective mood, that just compounds the situation. I am most reflective of the last year, which has obviously not been a good one for me. It was about this time last year that I first started noticing some of the symptoms of depression, but I managed to keep it together for a couple more months before the dam broke and I was really suffering. It's really just a lost year of my life. The time passed, but I accomplished very little, and I spent most of the year battling this force that has taken over my life. Of course, with such a milestone birthday as 40 just hours away, many of the people in my life will take this opportunity to express sentiments to the effect that this is the year that I recover and resume a normal life. I hope so. I really do.

I'm dog sitting for a couple of friends for a few days this week. I'm staying with their dog Zoe, who is getting older. She is a great dog and has lived a very full and rewarding life, but her youth is behind her now. Her hearing and sight are not what they used to be, and she has some occasional problems controlling her balance in her rear end. She stumbled a bit today toward the end of our walk. It made me very sad. She limped along for a few steps before I decided to take an injury timeout. So, after a few moments for recovery, we were back on our way. Aging dogs can be very tortuous on the soul. I have a soft spot for older dogs. My very favorite dog in our family, and the dog prior to Sidney to live with me for several years, was Fritz, and he was a real pleasure of a dog during his golden years. He was content with the life of a senior citizen canine. He did have the occasional bout with some ailment, and he was not in necessarily good health. But we had some good years. They just join our lives in progress, hang out for a decade or more, and then they get older and slow down. Before they leave us. And our lives continue, even though those of us dog lovers are forever changed.

And being around Zoe makes me think about and miss Sidney even more than usual.

I don't like to buy too much toilet paper at once. Even though it is cheaper and it obviously lasts longer to buy 9-packs, or 12-packs, or even 24-packs of toilet paper (all of which are usually sold as double rolls), I prefer to buy the good old fashioned 4-pack of regular-sized rolls of my chosen brand (Angel Soft). And even though I almost never buy more than the diminutive 4-pack, I make sure that I never run out. Toilet paper is too important to let that happen.

I've been back from Florida for a week, and it hasn't been a particularly pleasant time. I haven't felt as badly as I know that I can, so I'm thankful for that. And I haven't had overwhelming exhaustion. But as the week went on, I started staying in bed later each day. I have no structure. I tried to stick to the same basic routine that I had in Florida, but it's just not the same here. The major components of what helps me to feel all right are missing here: human beings. I am lost without the consistent, predictable presence of other people. Just having my parents around helped me tremendously, and I was very thankful for their presence. I've probably never been more happy to have spent so much time with my parents. Maybe that's just the thing that I need to be happy: someone (or someones) around me on a regular basis. I used to be able to manage as a person who lived and spent a lot of time alone. I thought that I liked it, given my general dislike for most people. But now, that characteristic which I was once seemingly comfortable with threatens to destroy me. I don't know what to do. I need to do something. I need to find things to do with my time, volunteer. But ultimately, I am still alone. And being alone is not good for me.

I played Wii for the first time ever on Friday night. I don't know if I ever thought that I would play Wii, but my friends convinced me to try their new system. I had been smoking and drinking a bit, so it seemed like the perfect thing to do. My initial impression was that we spent far too much time making an avatar that looked like me (which it did, eerily enough). But then we played. We started with some bowling and followed that up with some miniature golf. I did surprisingly well, for my first time. At least that's what my friends said. And I ended up rather enjoying myself. Now, I'm not going to say that I pulled my calf muscle the other night when I was playing the bowling. But it has been a little sore since then.

My clothes smell like Florida. I love when my clothes smell like Florida. It's wonderful. And yet, tragic.

Traveling on Friday was all right. Saturday and Sunday were rough days. And today I'm feeling better. But I was definitely feeling happier when I was in Florida. I miss the sunshine and the warmer temperatures. But I think it was mostly the company. I miss the company of my parents and, of course, Sidney. It's lonely being back. It's the negative by-product of being a loner. It's a big part of my depression. And it's not easy to remedy.

I'm heading back home to Pittsburgh tomorrow. I am not looking forward to it. In addition to the cold, snowy, wintry weather that awaits me there, I am going to miss Florida. Warm weather, my parents, their nice little house, Sidney, and warm weather. Even though the last couple of days and nights have been some of the coldest weather here in something like 50 years (provoking much complaining from the locals who have clearly gone soft), it's still been better than what I'll be experiencing back home. Apparently for the next six weeks. Fucking groundhog.

Video killed the radio star.

Wow.

So, today is the big day. I have to admit that I'm feeling a little nervous with anticipation. The game is still six hours away, and I have to find things to occupy my time until then. I'm accompanying my parents to a party being held at the home of friends of theirs. I went to their house to watch College Bowl games on New Year's Day. They're nice people, and they have a 72-inch HDTV, so it should be pretty great watching the Super Bowl there. And I'm going to be watching the game in Florida, where the weather is a far sight better than it is back home in Pittsburgh. Granted, it's a little chilly here today, with highs expected in the low 60s. But I'll take it.

After arriving here on the night of December 16th, the time has finally come for me to head home. I made plane reservations last night to fly back to Pittsburgh this Friday. After spending so much time away, in Florida, with my parents, I am concerned about how I am going to react to being back home, in my condo, in cold weather, alone. But I'm trying not to worry about that today. And I want to try and enjoy my remaining days here as much as possible.

Go Steelers!

Obama says Steelers 'close to my heart'
Thursday, January 29, 2009
By Jerome Sherman, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

Barack Obama loves the Chicago Bears, his hometown team. But the Steelers rank No. 2 for the new president, and they're his pick for the Super Bowl.

"I wish the Cardinals the best," Mr. Obama said at an Oval Office meeting this afternoon with Treasury secretary Timothy Geithner, according to a report on Politico.com. "But I am a longtime Steelers fan. Mr. Rooney, the owner, was just an extraordinary supporter during the course of the campaign."

"Other than the Bears, the Steelers are close to my heart," Mr. Obama said.


President Obama is a very astute fellow. He knows that Arizona is not the home of too many winners in recent history.

Photos from FF's Thursday morning commute . . .

Some people really like winter. They think that it's a beautiful season. Wow. Look at that view.

In addition to the many other pleasures that I have experienced during my time here in Florida, as it turns out, I'm about an hour away from Super Bowl XLIII, which is pretty cool. By watching the host city of Tampa's local news, I'm getting a perspective on the Super Bowl (not to mention my hometown Steelers) that I would probably never experience otherwise. Not surprisingly, the Steelers are very popular here in Florida, as they are virtually all over the country. But I am rather enjoying the local news coverage of the team and the event. And although I would miss being in the same city as my beloved Steelers (because the Pirates just don't matter to me anymore), I have recently come to the conclusion that I would be very happy living in the Bradenton/Sarasota area of Florida. The summers may be sweltering, but I think I could learn to live with it. And Florida's not a red state anymore. Hooray for Florida!

I take no pleasure in saying this, but, uh, I told you so . . .

Port Authority hopes for federal bailout for tunnels
Friday, January 23, 2009
By Jon Schmitz, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

The executive director of the Port Authority said today that about $290 million has been spent on the North Shore subway extension and warned that the region would have "nothing to show" for that expenditure if the project is shut down.

Steve Bland laid out several options for dealing with a $117.8 million cost overrun on the project, which will extend the Light Rail Transit system from Gateway Center, Downtown, to new stations at PNC Park and Heinz Field.

The best, he said, is to secure funding from the federal economic stimulus bill currently before the U.S. House of Representatives.

If the authority tried to borrow to meet the overrun, it would balloon debt service payments in the capital budget, currently 40 percent, to as much as 55 percent -- meaning that more than half of the authority's capital spending would be on interest costs.

If the project is terminated, "Pittsburgh would find itself in last place in any line for future funding" of major transit projects, he told the authority's board.

Now, why didn't they just do it this way the first time? So much pomp and circumstance. So much money. So many balls.

Compliments of Michelle . . .

George Bush is no longer the President of the United States.

Mission Accomplished.

With the Presidential Inauguration of Barack Obama just three days away, I wonder how many Americans have ordered their commemorative Barack Obama plates. Or how about the commemorative Barack Obama coins offered by the Franklin Mint, the unrivaled authority on commemorative coins? There are all sorts of commemorative goodies being offered by all sorts of vendors, most of which are obviously out to capitalize on the man's unprecedented popularity that appears to rival that of a rock star. And then there are the "official" Inauguration items available from the Presidential Inauguration Committee, including, again, a plate, a coffee mug, a lapel pin, and a picture frame for your invitation to the Inauguration, if you were fortunate enough to receive one. The Barack Obama "industry" may end up being strong enough to revive the American economy. Buy your Barack Obama commemorative items while they're hot. But make sure that you get a certificate of authenticity for each item. Otherwise, they're just worthless souvenirs.

Today my father ordered two tickets to 15 Pirate games this season, as opposed to the four tickets to 81 games that he's been buying since PNC Park opened in 2001.

I tell you, that Boy Mayor of ours sure does have some sense of humor.

http://www.postgazette.com/pg/09014/941656-100.stm

I'm feeling much better today. Not quite as good as I had been feeling, but a definite improvement. The power of pharmaceuticals.

And that's even with the lousy weather today in Florida. It rained hard for most of the day, and the temperature was around 60. But I managed to get through the winter day.

Helen: Just read your blog. Did you hear about the 22 year old women's studies student who's auctioning off her virginity to pay for grad school?

Dave: The tough economy has forced many folks to think outside the box. Or rather, inside the box, I guess.


(Hmm. I feel like I've made that joke before on this blog.)

Jim: I just saw a story about a 13-year-old girl who sent 14,528 text messages in one month. There's got to be a Quiet Observer blog in there somewhere.

Dave: I sure hope her parents have her on an unlimited text message plan. Otherwise, she may be looking at community college in five years.

I came to Florida with only 15 day's worth of one of the medications that I take. So, in order to make the medication last longer, I started taking half of the daily dose. I was feeling good, and I continued to feel good, so everything seemed fine. Then, as my stay here grew longer and my supply of pills started to get lower, last Monday I decided to stop taking the medication in order to conserve the pills. This, of course, is something that you should never do, and something that people with mental illness are notorious for doing when they are feeling so good that they think that they don't need to keep taking their medications. I was doing it to conserve pills, rather than because I didn't think that I needed to take them, but the reasons are not important, because the result was predictable. Starting on Wednesday morning, I had trouble getting out of bed in the morning. The same happened on Thursday morning, and by the time Friday came, I was in bad shape and feeling worse than I have in a long time. I spent a lot of time in bed on Friday and Saturday, and I got out of bed late today trying to work through it and muster enough energy to watch the Steelers/Chargers playoff game at 4:45. I've experienced these symptoms before, although they do seem particularly severe right now. I feel like I have the flu, with intermittent hot spells and cold spells, body aches, and a runny nose. I feel weak, I have no energy, and my head is so foggy that I can't concentrate on much of anything. Even writing this post has been a challenge. I look like a sick person. I've started taking the pills again, and I can't wait for them to start working. I will have to find a way to get more of them down here, since I only have a limited number of them left. But I have to learn the obvious lesson from this experience to never stop taking my medications. The only problem with that is that prior to receiving ECT treatments, I will have to be weaned off of my medications. I don't know what I'm going to do about that.

I have been in Florida for 21 days. And the time is drawing near for me to return to Pittsburgh. And I'm torn over it. I have had a very enjoyable, relaxing time here in Florida. The weather has been fantastic, the time spent with my parents has been nice, and my time with Sidney has been, well, priceless. But I'm beginning to get a little bored, and my life back in Pittsburgh is getting to the point where it's going to need my attention soon. I wasn't sure how long I would be here when I left, but I brought 28 multivitamins, thinking that four weeks would be the maximum. Now that I've reached the three-week mark, I have to think about when I will return. Until the last couple of days, I have been able to avoid thinking about it. But now that it's crept into my consciousness, I can no longer pretend that I will not have to leave. Honestly, I don't really want to leave Florida. While there are things in Pittsburgh that I miss, my depression has not been a problem while I have been here. I have felt like myself. And it's hard not to be afraid that returning to Pittsburgh may open the door for a return of the depression. Just the thought of the rain, cold, and dark skies back home is enough to turn my mood sour. This situation is starting to trouble me.

There is a two-CD set available of highlights of speeches by Barrack Obama. How do I know this? Because my father owns it, and I found him sitting at his computer yesterday playing solitaire and listening to the speeches.

My parents eat a lot of carbs.

After visiting for just enough time, my sister and her husband are returning to Chicago today. I've always known something about my brother-in-law, but it was never more apparent than it was during this visit. He drinks a lot of vodka. I mean, a lot. More than I did in my heavy drinking days, which was a pretty fair amount. I wonder if he only drinks that much when he's on vacation, or whether it's a regular thing. If it's a regular thing, then he definitely has a drinking problem. That would be great news for my pregnant sister. He was smoking little cigars while he was here, too. Just wonderful.

It's interesting. Since I have been in Florida, I have been feeling pretty great. I mean, not great, I suppose, but great as compared to the last seven months. I have been getting up early, not that I really have a choice with all of the noise my parents make when they get up and start milling about the house. I have been eating three meals a day, playing with Sidney, doing some light reading, taking walks, and generally just trying to relax. I'm definitely not ready for the life of retired folks like my parents. It can get a little boring at times. But I am trying to fill what have been long days for me with activities. Sometimes that means just sitting on the back patio and watching the antics of the mallard ducks in the pond. But the point is that I feel good. Maybe better than I have in years. That's a hard statement for me to even believe, given the depths of suffering that I have experienced this year. But I feel depression free. Now, I know that it's not gone, and that it could be just waiting around the corner, if I'm not careful and take the appropriate steps to maintain my mood. And that's a little scary, to be honest with you. But at least for now, it looks like I'm going to have a depression-free Christmas. And just a few weeks ago, that didn't even seem possible.

The weather in Florida is fantastic. What's the weather like back home in Pittsburgh?

This is the view from my parents' back patio in Florida. My mother and I flew down here yesterday. I have been reunited with Sidney (and my father), and he looks great. My father looks all right, too.

It's been a week since my last post, and I have been doing very well. After that little episode last Thursday, it took me a couple of days to get back on track, but once I did, I was golden. It's so weird, truly it is, this depression thing, but for the last few days, I've been feeling like "normal Dave." I've been going to bed at a reasonable hour, getting normal amounts of sleep, and getting up in the morning at times earlier than I have gotten up since the depression began way back in the spring. I have been feeling good, I've had my sense of humor, and I've been getting things done. I attended group all three times that it met this week for the first time in months, and I really like this group much more than the last one I attended. Now that I have seen how different this group is, I really think that the leader of the last one is not good at his job. But that's another story. There is no question that part of why I have been feeling better is that I have had things to do. In treatment, we always talk about how having structured activities to distract you can be very helpful in alleviating the unpleasant symptoms of depression. Of course, it's not always easy to get yourself out of bed so that you can attend to planned activities, but that has not been a problem for me this week. Since I am not able to start the ECT treatments until some tests are completed in about a month, my mother and I are flying to Florida this coming Tuesday. I don't know how long I am going to be there, but I am very much looking forward to getting away from what has been miserable Pittsburgh winter weather and, of course, being reunited with Sidney. My pregnant sister and her husband will be joining my mother, my father, and myself for Christmas, and hopefully, my extended stay there will not be spoiled by any sudden flare-ups of the depression, but we will just have to wait and see how that goes. I will have to make a conscious effort while I am there to eat well, take walks, and keep myself busy as much as I can to help keep the depression at bay. No matter what, after months of being miserable and at times, debilitated, I'm looking forward to having a very enjoyable holiday with family and Sidney in warm weather and sunshine. You can't beat that, in my book.

Since my mother arrived, I had been feeling pretty good, as I've said in a previous post. But then something just . . . changed. For some reason, I woke up on Thursday, and before my feet hit the floor, I was feeling horrible. And it just went downhill from there. I ended up going back to bed after breakfast, and I spent the afternoon in bed feeling badly. I was feeling so poorly that I was unable (or unwilling) to go to my new group, which meets from four to seven three times a week. Although I've only been to the new group once, I already like it better than my previous group. It has women in it. My mother was very disappointed in me that I was not able to make it to group, and she said some unpleasant things to me, which did not help my mood. But we had a good conversation after dinner and worked things out. Today, I am feeling a little better than yesterday, but still not nearly as good as I had been. In group they talk about emotions and how they affect your depression. I guess something happened that affected my mood. It was made so much more upsetting to me because I had been doing so well. It just goes to show you that no matter how well you're feeling, you're still vulnerable to the depression at any time.

I received this e-card today from my old friend Amy the Christian. She knows me so well.

My Internet is so slow, by today's standards, that it's embarrassing.

So, my mother has been in Pittsburgh since last Monday, and I've been doing pretty well since then. I have been getting up in the morning, and I have been getting to appointments on time, and I have been doing things that need to be done, and I have generally been feeling pretty good. I'm still not quite right, but I'm much better than I was before she arrived. The problem, of course, is that I can't live the rest of my life with my mother around to provide the accountability and help that I need to help me deal with the depression. So, I have to take advantage of the time that she is here to develop some good habits and a good routine, so that I will not go back to staying in bed all day when she does leave. We still don't know exactly how long she will be staying. My father has said that he does not want to come to Pittsburgh for Christmas, and I suspect that part of that is probably because he doesn't want to be bothered with doing all of the legwork to find a suitable place to board Sidney and then get him there. The sad part is that if my sister and her husband come to Pittsburgh for Christmas, then not only will be father be the only family member not here, but he will also miss out on seeing his pregnant daughter who is carrying his first grandchild. Meanwhile, my mother and I have been getting along very well. She has not said anything negative about her being here, which has been a very pleasant surprise. Although I know that she misses Sidney, I think that she's secretly enjoying the little vacation from my curmudgeonly father. She definitely would prefer the Florida weather to the cold that we've been experiencing here recently, but she seems to be making the best of having to be here.

My mother has come back to Pittsburgh to help me get back on track. So far, I have gotten up two days in the morning, and I have gotten to the places where I was supposed to be. Before she left Florida, she was already eager to think about her return. But while I was at group today for the first time in weeks, she went to the grocery store and bought a turkey and other Thanksgiving items. So, she is planning on being here until at least then. And then tonight, she was talking about staying even longer and possibly having the immediate family in Pittsburgh rather than Bradenton for Christmas. My father would have to fly to Pittsburgh (and Sidney would have to be boarded). My father probably wouldn't be happy about that, since I'm quite certain that he's not particularly pleased with the present arrangement. But this was just my mother's second day in Pittsburgh. And she's already complaining about the weather.

Because I have not responded adequately to medication and psychotherapy (and I haven't attended group recently), my "treatment team" has recommended that I undergo ECT treatments. If you don't know what ECT is, it's electroconvulsive therapy. It's also known as electroshock. If you want to know more about it, Google it and you will find a wealth of information on the subject, both for and against. The bottom line is that ECT is recommended for people with severe depression who do not get better using conventional treatment methods. And it looks like I'm the perfect candidate. That's one of the reasons why I wanted my parents to come back to Pittsburgh. You can receive ECT as an inpatient (although I would much prefer not to be in the hospital), but if you receive it as an outpatient, then you have to have someone who can take you home after the treatment. And since I don't have a spouse or significant other, I am dependent on friends or family to perform this role. I would prefer family, as I think that it's the type of thing that family does. They take you home after you've had a procedure performed in a hospital, and they watch over you to make sure that you recover without any problems. My parents do not seem to agree with me on this point, but as I've already said, they are not to be used as the standard. ECT is really my last hope for treatment. There really isn't anything after that, so even though I'm a little concerned about the treatment and its potential side-effects (such as temporary memory loss), I have to have faith in those recommending it since they are the professionals.

My doctor called my mother last night and talked to her about my parents coming back to Pittsburgh to help me because I have really been struggling since they left, as I've said in previous posts. When I spoke to my mother afterward, she said that she was going to fly here possibly Monday, but she was clearly angry with me. When I asked her why she was angry with me, she said that she was angry because she has to disrupt her life to come help me. Now, I'm sure that my mother had a lot of things going through her mind last night after she spoke to my doctor: plane reservations, leaving my father and Sidney alone in Florida, wondering how long she was going to have to be in Pittsburgh, etc. But she still expressed anger toward me. I know that my family is weird, and some would say that they never should have left me alone in my condition in the first place. But they did, and now the situation has worsened to the point where my mother has to come back. I have no idea what's going to happen once she gets here. I hope that she will stop being angry with me for being ill. It's not my fault.

I think the trend has ended.

I am extremely reluctant to call it a trend, but today is the third day that I have felt a little better than I had previously. It comes at an unexpected time, with the weather cold and the skies gray. And the person who represents virtually my only support system, FF, left on Saturday for ten days at Walt Disney World with her boyfriend and his family. But despite all of that, the last three days have not been awful. I even bought some new boxer shorts on Friday night. It was the first new thing that I had purchased since the depression became severe. I'm going to take the purchase of new underwear as a good sign, at least for now.

Today was the first day in weeks, maybe months, that I got up before noon. It was a beautiful autumn day in Pittsburgh, and fortunately, I was able to spend the afternoon with FF. I think the activity was beneficial for me, because aside from a little anxiety late in the afternoon, I had a good day. I don't even remember the last time I had a good day. I'm pretty sure that it was before my parents left for Florida.

Hopefully, the victorious end to this historic election is the beginning of good things for this country.

It's been a tumultuous couple of weeks since my last post, and unfortunately, I have nothing positive to report. I am still very ill and continuing to pursue treatment, even though there is no magic formula that can guarantee my recovery. I talk to my mother in Florida almost every day, and she gives my updates on how much Sidney is enjoying his southern home. It makes me terribly sad that my family is so far away from me while I go through this, but I don't think that there is anything that I can do about it. My mother thinks (or hopes) that there is a medication that will bring me out of this, but those treating me tell me that it takes much more than just some pill. It's not like the commercials for anti-depressants on television. For some, an anti-depressant may provide a much-needed lift, but for people whose condition is as severe as mine, medication is simply not enough.

Despite feeling so poorly, I am looking forward to voting on Tuesday. I hope that you are as well.

I can't sleep. This is becoming a problem. Actually, it's been a problem for months now, coinciding with the depression. The real problem is that my sleeping habits change according to the medication that I'm taking. When the depression first hit in early summer, I was taking an "activating" medication, which hardly allowed me any kind of restful sleep at all at night, or during the day, for that matter. I would lie in bed with Sidney and just watch the clock, occasionally falling asleep for short periods of time, just to wake up and see that very little time had passed. Then I started taking a different medication that knocked me out. I was sleeping very soundly and for long periods of time, and I was often tired, even after plenty of sleep. Since that medication didn't seem to be helping me, I was put back on the same activating medication that I had taken before. Now I don't sleep all of the time, but I'm back to watching the clock. I really don't get any meaningful sleep until the early morning through about noon. In fact, I'm usually sleeping fairly well at the time when I would prefer to get up. But then once afternoon comes, I really don't sleep anymore. Just those brief periods, punctuated by waking and looking at the clock. Overall, I spend much more time in bed than I do actually sleeping. I suppose that as long as I'm in bed, I would prefer to be sleeping. But I haven't been able to find a medication that provides me with a happy medium. Ultimately, regardless of how these medications are affecting my sleep, they are not helping with the depression. I feel as badly now as I have at any point throughout the experience. And I'd really like to be asleep right now.

I have not been doing well since my parents left for Florida. It has been a little more than a week, and I think that my condition has worsened in that time. Even though my parents are not the most endearing of people, they did provide me with some structure to my days, dinners, and a place to sleep away from the condo. Having those things (not to mention Sidney) vanish has taken its toll on me. I have been getting dinner for myself, for the most part. Pizza, mostly. I don't cook, so I rely on takeout, which means that I have to go get my dinner. It's probably good to have to leave the condo, but it's also tempting sometimes just to stay put and not eat. I have not been going to group since my parents left. I have been staying in bed into the afternoons, feeling horrible and dreading what awaits me once I get up. This is so unlike me. I normally love getting out of bed and starting a fresh, new day. This depression has me all fucked up. The medication isn't working, the group therapy wasn't working, and I'm beginning to wonder what the next step will be.

Fatherhood, according to Ian . . .

Dave: How are things going now that everybody is home? Tell me honestly, how does it feel to be a father, Focker?

Ian: wow, dude. pretty deep question actually. everything at home is good, if not great: vidhi is recovering well, my mom has been helping out during the day with her, and now i am back at work. baby is doing well also, and is incredibly cute.

but it's also kind of weird: it;s not like there is huge elation or anything. in fact, i find myself just feeling kind of weird or stressed. i figured it out last night i think: it's just like after we got married where there was so much build up, so much stress, turmoil, etc., that now we're done, we have a lot of work to do, and our entire lives are different all of sudden. so i can't explain exactly how i'm feeling yet, except that there's too much upheaval and change to say shit like "oh, it's so glorious...."

on the other hand, it's pretty incredible. this little bugger is about the biggest joy i could have now. vidhi and i are absolutely taken with him.

It seems to me that no one uses a rake to clean up leaves anymore. Or how about a wide broom to sweep up yard debris. Oh, no. Now, everyone from the neighborhood gardeners to your neighbors themselves uses those gas-powered leaf blowers. And those things annoy me. They are loud. Very loud for such a seemingly small item. They make far more noise than a lawnmower. And in neighborhoods like mine, they start up early in the morning and seem to go all day. I hate them.

Ironically, it was October 3rd of last year that my mother and I drove to Youngstown, Ohio to meet Sidney and bring him back to Pittsburgh. This photo is Sidney today.

My parents and Sidney leave for Florida tomorrow morning. They will be gone for at least six months, and frankly, I'm having a very tough time today. I've known this day was coming for a couple of months, and I've dreaded it every day. My parents have provided some structure in my life where there was little, and structure seems to be a valuable thing in my condition. They provided dinners and other meals, and they gave me a place to sleep away from the condo that has been causing me so much discomfort during the depression. And, of course, I've been able to spend time with Sidney. Even though it was necessary for him to go live with them, I still love him immensely. Being able to spend time with him, play with him, care for him, and share the guest bed with him have all been blessings. But all of that is about to change, and sadly, I am not prepared for it. I tried to prepare for it, at least I told myself that I was, but the reality of the situation is causing me to get very emotional and sad. I honestly don't know what I'm going to do once they're gone. I truly don't.

Do you remember a couple of years ago when the Dow kept going up and the housing market was booming? That is beginning to seem like a long time ago. Add in the debacle of the war in Iraq, and Bush is going to leave quite a legacy as President. And there is little comfort in being someone who predicted that the twit would ruin our country.

I'm going to be an uncle. My sister is three months' pregnant and due in April.

Ian and his wife had their first child last night. While I am genuinely happy for them and for all of the good things that have happened in their lives in the last year, the arrival of a child means that I may never see Ian again unless I go visit them in their new house in the suburbs of Philadelphia. His somewhat infamous trips to Pittsburgh to visit me ended when he got married three years ago, and our friendship suffered. But a child means that he and his wife have really made a home for themselves there, and he probably won't ever be able to come visit me in Pittsburgh again. Even though I knew that this day was coming, I still can't help feeling like life is moving along so quickly for everyone else but me.

After having some form of ticket plan to Pirate games for as long as I can remember, my father is trying to sell his full season tickets. He has placed an ad in the paper, although he is not expecting to get much of a response. He's talking about going to like 15 games next year. The team has beaten him down. It's happening everywhere. The Pirates have essentially killed baseball in Pittsburgh.

I don't normally stay up this late (after one). But I had a particularly good day, and I'm feeling so good tonight that I've taken the opportunity to get a few things done online that I've been meaning to do. I set up paperless billing for my cable and home telephone services. It's a win-win, really. I hate getting mail, and I'll be saving at least a little paper by not receiving those two paper bills. Plus, I hate the damn inserts that Comcast puts in their bills for things like personalized checks and life insurance. I once called Comcast (and waded through the company's extensive automated system before I finally got a human) so that I could request that those inserts not be placed in my monthly bills, and I got attitude from the customer service representative with whom I spoke. So, I gave up that fight. With the cable and phone bills going paperless, I now have to take care of the electric, which is printed on ridiculously thick bond paper.

As good as I feel and as productive as I've been, it's hard to make the decision to go to bed, since getting up still appears to be the greatest challenge that I face everyday. I just haven't gotten back to that point of being normal where I just get out of bed because it's time to get out of bed. I'm still using my bed as a place of avoidance and escape. Once I stop doing that, I will know for sure that I am well on my way to recovery. I just hope that day comes soon. Tomorrow would be nice.

If you need further proof that the U.S. economy is in increasingly bad shape . . . The richest person in American, Bill Gates, lost money with his investments from last year to this year. He still has a ton of money (something like $57 billion), but if he lost money, then imagine what is happening to the average American.

"Fake it till you make it . . . "

Recovering from depression is a lot of work. This is the message of the people who are aiding in my treatment. As much as I might like there to be a "magic pill" that I can take that will make everything better, they are telling me that the medication can only do so much, and that I must really work in order to get better. And frankly, that's a pretty ominous proposition. I have already been in a lot of "pain," for lack of a better word, and I continue to experience pain. But in order to get better, I have to go through more pain before I can start to feel better. It sounds sort of crazy to me, but deep down, I have to admit that it makes sense. I just hope that I can find the strength and mental toughness to do the work necessary to get better. It may be the greatest challenge that I've ever faced.

I received an email from Ian today. He told me that his friend Neil (I'm pretty sure that I sat next to him at Ian's wedding) had checked himself into a mental health institution for six weeks to help him deal with his depression and anxiety. I consider it a minor miracle that I never had to be admitted to the local psychiatric institution. There were a few times when things were really bad that my doctor suggested it. She even offered to drive me there (which she's really not allowed to do). But I resisted vehemently. It was like a line that I refused to cross. I refused to admit that I needed that much help. So, Ian has two good friends that have struggled with severe depression. What are the odds of that, I wonder.

The Pirates announced over the weekend that the team will be increasing its payroll from $51 million this season to $54 million next season. Watch out, National League teams. You have been warned.

My mother shows more affection toward Sidney than toward anyone else, family or otherwise.


Then again, so do I.

Okay, one more thing about Sarah Palin. Did you hear that both John McCain and Palin herself have suggested that she possesses the necessary level of international experience to deal with a country such as Russia because Russia is located next to Alaska?


Because Russia is located next to Alaska.

As much fun as she is to criticize, enough already about Sarah Palin. Let's get back to the presidential election. You know, the one between Barack Obama and John McCain.

How come Subway sandwiches never, ever look as good in person as they do in the television commercials? And don't even get me started on their so-called "cooked" subs. Last time I checked, a weird microwave device cannot toast a sub. All it can do is heat the sub up, while simultaneously making the bread gummy.

I lost about twenty pounds in the first few weeks after the depression became severe. I really wasn't eating very well. I had needed to lose some weight, so it was somewhat welcome. All of my clothes just hung on me, and those close to me commented on my weight. I've noticed, however, in recent weeks that I'm eating more and putting some of the weight back on. I'm not really thrilled about that, since I should probably be at my depression weight, rather than my non-depression weight. But my parents eat a lot, and now that I'm essentially eating all of my meals with them, I am eating what they're eating. I try to resist the seemingly ubiquitous cookies. But sometimes my mother buys peanut butter or M&M cookies that I can't say no to. When they leave for Florida in early October and I can no longer count on meals with them, I will have to make sure that I keep eating properly on my own. It's going to be tough. There was a time when I was able to manage it. Although I was the king of takeout. I'm not going to start making my own meals, so I guess I will go back to my old ways. Hopefully, I will eat decent meals without gaining back all of the weight that I've lost.


P.S. This is my 300th post.

Despite all the recent political talk, I am still very much struggling with the depression. I think that I've been doing better lately, with the group meetings and all. But everyday still brings with it certain challenges that I have to contend with. I have practically been living at my parents' house. I almost can't stand being at the condo. I really don't know why. I don't know if the depression just causes me to really hate my home, or whether it's the prospect of being in the condo and therefore, being alone. Alone is a weird thing for me these days. I've always been a bit of a loner, with just a few close friends. I've never travelled in a large group. And I'm not terribly social. So, I have grown accustomed to being alone over the years. But lately, being alone has caused me anxiety. It really bothers me to be alone. I mean, I must really hate it if I have been preferring the company of my parents to being alone. My parents have actually been better with me in recent weeks. They seem to be understanding my situation better (or at least faking it), and they have been rather kind to me. It's been nice. But I have really been missing FF lately. We had a very unique and, in my opinion, special friendship for about two years until she met her boyfriend and they became serious about this time last year. Our friendship has never been the same. Even though I knew that it was going to happen, the actual happening of it was difficult for me. I may have avoided dealing with it by adopting Sidney and starting a new job, but it was still there, lurking, waiting for me to get sick, and then it really hit me hard. I miss her terribly. I spent some time with her this afternoon, and it was nice. But it's not the same. And I miss it. I miss her. Especially on nights like tonight.

My father is obsessed with the election. Even though he is adamantly in favor of Barack Obama, he watched the convention speeches by Sarah Palin and John McCain just so he could swear at the television.

The recent flurry of comments on my blog just demonstrates how contentious, and therefore interesting, this election is. And on top of all that, it's an important election, coming at a time when our country is in turmoil, both home and abroad, thanks to the present administration. I would like to comment myself about the difference between Barack Obama's mother giving birth to him at the age of eighteen and Sarah Palin's pregnant seventeen-year-old daughter. The difference to me has nothing to do with right or wrong. It's the irony of such a thing happening to someone who belongs to the party that champions so-called "family values." While the conservative right rallies around Palin and her daughter now, they are the same people who preach abstinence as the best form of birth control. They oppose sex education in our schools, as well as the free distribution of condoms. I hope that we can all agree, Republican and Democrat, conservative and liberal, that teenage pregnancy is a problem in this country, and a problem that we would all like to see addressed. It is not my intention to judge teenagers who get pregnant, regardless of their socioeconomic status or the color of their skin. But given that Palin is a conservative member of a party that touts the family and the importance of parents' involvement in the lives of their children, it is virtually impossible not to notice that her daughter's pregnancy and the delayed announcement even on a national holiday when Hurricane Gustov was the top news story and the Republican convention was opening were all, at the very least, not good news for the McCain campaign. I think it would be foolish not to acknowledge that, regardless of your politics.

As more and more information about Sarah Palin comes to light, I become more and more certain that there is no way that John McCain and his campaign did anywhere near enough research on her background before selecting her. I don't care what he says. He screwed up. Even a pro-choice Republican like Tom Ridge would have been a better choice for his campaign, even if the conservative right wing of the party wouldn't have liked him. He certainly wouldn't have brought as much baggage to the campaign as Palin has.

And as much as I hate the sensational nature of some of the news floating around about Palin, I have to admit that I kind of think that that poor high school hockey player is being pressured to marry Palin's daughter. And now I hear he's going to appear with the Palin family at the Republican convention. That's just good stuff.

It seems to me that John McCain failed to do enough research before he chose his running mate. I can't wait to hear the "family values" conservatives rally around Sarah Palin and applaud her daughter's decision as a seventeen year old to keep her baby and get married to the teenage father. That should be a winner of a marriage.

I guess I stand corrected on my previous post.

I'm getting kind of sick of the Clintons, too. If former Hillary supporters refuse to vote for Obama, and they would rather vote for McCain, I say good riddance. Vote for the party that would never support a woman or a black man. But they'll take your votes, that much is for certain.

When television advertisements for John McCain come on, my father swears at them as though they are interactive. He really hates John McCain. And at this point, depression or not, I pretty much hate him, too.

I was just talking to FF on the phone. I was telling her about how difficult it is for me to get up earlier than the afternoon, especially if I don't have an activity scheduled. And with the group therapy program beginning for me on Monday, I'm a little bit anxious about having to get up in the morning. Getting up is doubly challenging because not only am I severely depressed, and therefore, very susceptible to long stretches of sleep, but I'm also taking a dosage of one medication that is intended to slow down my mind, and one side effect is that it makes me tired. I fall asleep at night very quickly, and I usually don't wake up during the night. This is unusual behavior because I am a notoriously light sleeper. So, this medication also makes getting up in the morning more difficult. Something that most people take for granted is something that is causing me both anxiety and challenges. Have I mentioned lately how awful depression is?

So, I start a group therapy program for depression on Monday. I know it will be good for me, but I still have anxiety about it. It meets on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday from one to four. That doesn't seem so bad, on the surface. But I have not been getting out of bed until the afternoon for several weeks (which is horrible for me, I know), so getting out of bed in the morning will pose a new challenge for me. It's really very frightening when you are at a place where getting up before noon is actually a challenge. That's how awful depression is. And the funny thing is that I do feel better when I get up earlier and do more things during the day. The problem is that I don't have the self-discipline right now to force myself to do things. I have to have something to do, just as I know that I have dinner at my parents' house in the evening. It's so bloody frustrating to be in this condition. I often find myself thinking longingly of my life before the depression hit. My life was hardly perfect, and there was plenty of room for personal growth and improvement. But I've drifted so far away from that, and I have no sense of when I will get back there.

All of that having been said, today is the fourth day in a row in which I have felt a little better. It's not dramatic, so I don't make too big of a deal about it. Of course, my Mom continues to make far more of it than she should, and I do my best to try and temper her reaction. But she wants me to be better yesterday, and I'm pretty sure that I'm further away than she thinks that I am.

I absolutely love the fact that the ads that appear on top of my blog are now for depression treatments. I guess I should have expected that, but it's still kind of disconcerting when I open up my blog and see them there. I should probably look into getting rid of those ads altogether. I haven't made any money from them, so really, what's the point. I guess I just thought that I'd try having them on the blog, just in case my blog blew up and became a huge international hit and readers would be clicking on the ads all of the time, resulting in a new revenue source for me. Ha!

Anyway, to the dear readers that I do have and who don't make me any money, as you've surely noticed, I have been blogging recently. I don't know if this is a sign that I am starting to feel better, but I do think that my head has been a little more clear lately, and not as cluttered with the racing thoughts that I was fighting previously. Having at least some sense of normalcy has allowed me to sit and write more than I was able to just a couple of weeks ago. I guess I shouldn't think about it too much, but rather just take advantage of the opportunity to write again.

I can tell that my parents are growing frustrated with my progress. While they both struggle to understand exactly what I'm experiencing, I can see that they want more results from my treatment. They want the medications that I'm taking to work and for me to return to "normal" so that I can stop coming over to their house so much and start working again. In addition to their own personal limitations when it comes to understanding my condition, they are not particularly patient people by nature. So, as the depression has reached its third month, they are more than ready for some significant improvement. For instance, I had a good day yesterday, my first good day, I think, since Friday, August 1st, when I attended my first musical performance of the summer. My Mom noticed that I was a little livelier than usual last night, and she said, "Maybe you've turned the corner." I responded that it was way too early to know.

Although I get to visit Sidney everyday at my parents' house, it has been difficult to see him adjust to his new home and to my Mom as his new caretaker. I hesitate to use the word "owner," as we still refer to me as that, but for all intents and purposes, he is now my Mom's dog. The good news is that it is clear to me that he is very happy living at their house. He has more room, he has stairs to go up and down, he has a nice backyard to investigate and make his own, and he gets treated very well. Perhaps too well. My Mom has an addiction to shopping. It's pretty nutso. She is constantly buying things. The house is full of things that have been bought, perhaps used once or twice, and then banished to the basement. And her shopping addiction has probably only gotten worse since my parents retired, giving her even more time to devote to her favorite pastime. Now, in addition to her regular shopping, she also shops for Sidney. In the short time that he has been living with her, she has bought so much stuff for that dog. She has bought several cookbooks for dogs, she has bought training tools, she has bought new collars and leashes. The worst of it, however, is definitely the toys. She has been making trips to Petco and Petland at least once a week, sometimes more, and every time, she comes home with several new toys for Sidney. I have joked that Sidney has more toys than I ever had as a child. And I'm not so sure that it's not the truth. The bottomline is that she treats him differently than I did, and although what she's doing is not "wrong," it's still hard to let go of him enough to accept the differences. I miss Sidney very much, even though I know that giving him to my Mom to care for him was the right thing to do. We formed a strong bond during the nine months that we were together after I adopted him. That bond is still strong, and we very much enjoy the time that we see each other now. But my parents will be taking him with them in October when they make their annual migration to Florida for six months. I will miss him terribly. And I'm worried that he will really be my Mom's dog then.

Apparently, it's not unusual for people with depression to hate their hair, among a multitude of other things. This odd symptom has not escaped me, and my last two haircuts have been shorter than ever before. And really, I think it was all leading up to today when I got my first "crew cut." At least, I think it's a crew cut. It's really, really short, that much I know for sure. Kelly, who cuts my hair, brought out the clippers and went to town on my hair, which wasn't that long to begin with. I feel better. Somehow. But it's still weird knowing that I almost certainly would never have gotten such a dramatic haircut were it not for the depression.

I took what some consider a "big step" toward recovery yesterday. I met with a couple of people about my condition in order to become involved in an outpatient treatment program. The appointment was at 11:30, which is pretty early by my recent standards. So, in order to facilitate my timely arrival, I slept at my parents' house (with Sidney cuddled up beside me) and got up early. My Mom made me coffee and eggs, and then she drove me to my appointment. I think that some of those close to me (like my parents) were hoping that more immediate treatment would come out of yesterday's appointment, but it was really just me telling two separate people about what I've been going through while they asked me questions and took notes. Since the course of treatment that my doctor and I have been trying does not appear to be producing positive results, it was her recommendation that I make the appointment so that I could get into the outpatient treatment program. The program consists of another doctor becoming in charge of my treatment, while I attend group therapy meetings three times a week. I'm told that the group dynamic is not a gathering of depressed folks sitting around in a circle sharing their stories. Rather, it's supposed to be educational in nature. I will just have to wait and see what it's really like. But those that I've talked to about yesterday's appointment think that I took an important first step in getting the help that I need. That may well be, but I woke up today feeling as lousy as I have been for the last couple of weeks. I suppose I should remain optimistic about what the program will be able to do for me. But when you're seemingly stuck in a horrible emotional state, it's hard to get optimistic about much of anything.

Depression is a terrible illness. Now that I've experienced it for the second time in less than three years, I really have a solid understanding of its devastating effects. And it is such a frustrating illness. I think that's a word that I use most often when I'm talking about it. Frustrating. Because unlike, say, a broken arm, which you can see as a tangible thing, depression is not really obvious. Granted, I often don't look "well," but most of the suffering is internal. There are physical symptoms. When it first started, I had body aches and fatigue which I compared to how you feel when you have the flu. I also got headaches occasionally. But depression mostly just eats away at you on the inside, turning your own mind and thoughts against you. It's also very exhausting. I am tired all of the time, and often prefer being in bed to anything else. Of course, this is a very common symptom of depression, with some people staying in bed for days at a time. I have been fortunate to avoid such a fate by structuring my days so that I have somewhere to be in the evenings, which serves to force me out of bed so that I can shower and leave the condo. But it's still a struggle. I often think that I would prefer to just stay in bed all day. It's horrible. Much of my frustration stems from the fact that I seem to be stuck at a certain place in my recovery. I bottomed out sometime in June, but I have leveled off to a place that is better than the abyss that I was in, but I don't seem to be improving from that point. I just go day to day without turning the corner toward wellness. The doctor who is treating me is frustrated, and I am frustrated. I don't know when this will start to improve so that I can get back to living a normal life. It's been so long that I almost forget what a normal life for me is.

I miss meatball burger and greens. One of my favorite meals. Meatball burger over crisp salad greens, topped with blue cheese and barbeque sauce. Very tasty.

One day at a time . . .

In the midst of what is turning into the worst summer of my entire life, I am still struggling with this depression. It really fucking sucks. I am functioning in survival mode, where I just take life one day at a time. It sounds cliche, but that's really how I manage. Everyday I stay in bed as long as I can in an attempt to make the day shorter, and therefore, more manageable for me. Then, my next big accomplishments for the day are brushing my teeth and taking a shower. After that, I need to leave my condo and go somewhere where I can be distracted from my depression. Sidney is now living with my parents while I try to get better. So, if I go over to my parents' house for dinner and a visit, then I can see Sidney and play with him. I commented to my Mom yesterday that spending time with Sidney is really the only time during the day that I smile and laugh. If I don't go over there, then I try to spend the evening with a friend, eating dinner and just hanging out. I'm certainly not at my social best. But I do try to make the best of the time away from the condo and my thoughts.

My parents (who are 74 and 70) do not get it. The depression thing. They just don't get it.

Post number 281 . . .

So, I have depression. The doctor who is treating me calls it "severe depression." And it sucks. I would compare it to hell. Everything is upside down. Nothing is right with the world, or at least, nothing with my world. And I feel like shit. I can't stop my mind from racing. It just races and races, and no good thing comes out of all that thinking. Except that it takes energy away from the rest of my body, leaving me fatigued and sometimes confused. I can't concentrate on a task for very long. Composing this blog may be the longest I've been able to focus on one task in weeks. At least today was a good day. Yesterday was a bad day, possibly the worst day yet. But today was a good day. And that's all I can ask for right now.

A message from Dave . . .

I just wanted to let my vast readership know that I have been unable to maintain my blog in recent weeks because I am battling a chronic illness. I hope to return to the blog as soon as my health permits.