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.