Tag: Life

Once again, my Profound Post lost….

Once again, my Profound Post lost….

I had a great (I thought) post created and ‘poof’ one wrong button pressed and away it went to nothingness. Here I’ll try to reproduce the perfection of it all, and ‘Save’ frequently.

Booze has nothing to do with me losing my creations. Sure I’ve indulged (and enjoyed it) and sometimes it’s how things gotta roll.

I’ve had some visitors to my site, most are ‘ghosts’, electronically created non-entities, designed to plug the system and create imitation followers. I’m too smart for that though.

Some are real people, some I’ll follow in return ‘cuz they’re interesting. They may be like minded or just ‘real’, whatever the reason they get my vote. I like followers, especially when they’re real.

Things are good here, my life is…..satisfactory. I still have my challenges and I’ll continue to work with them. After all, that’s what life is, taking the hand life dealt and playing it. Take care all.

 

Here we go again

Here we go again

Originally posted on

I think “Here We Go Again” is a title of an old song, can’t be sure though and it really doesn’t matter. In this sense it only means here I go, putting up another very late post.

I see it’s not been since January of this year that I visited here to write. I’m surprised! My my, where does the time go?

I’ve been active and there are many things that have happened around me. Perhaps no more than to the average bear but they were, of course, significant to me. Mostly it’s just life stuff.

One thing of note was that since my last post I’ve gone back on the ‘juice’. Now before you get all confused or concerned you must realize the ‘juice’ in this context is an anti-depression medication, in this case Citalopram. Last year I was on Mirtazapine but in my wisdom I chose to get off the meds and see how things turned out. Not too well evidently.

After stopping the Mirts I did not become suicidal or anything close to that self destructive, it was more a case of low moods and and a frequent sadness I couldn’t seem to avoid. In fact, as I told my doctor, I would often get very teary and emotional during commercials on tv. I short I was very often low. This didn’t happen immediately but became more pronounced over time. In a nutshell I was not better, more help was needed, but I persevered.

In January we went to Okotoks to our niece’s. That’s where we had gone to visit during our annual get-away and where I last posted  Typically we go somewhere away from our city to just be away, to regroup and recharge. January is the month our son died so since then, Jan. of 2000, we either take a week in our time-share or perhaps we go to visit kin. In this case the kin won. It was a nice visit, a good escape. I had no overt depression or anxiety but my sadness lingered.

During that same month my Mother moved out of our basement suite where she had lived for a 7 or so years. She and my step-Father had moved in when they found the challenges of living alone, away from town, a challenge. My step-Father Larry unfortunately passed away a few years ago just after his 80th birthday but my Mom stayed with us. Now, through a series of outside circumstance, she felt moving to Langley was the best choice for her and her siblings so she took on the challenge of moving and went to the big city. I supported her move and still do. It is her call and I think I can appreciate her reasons.

Since her move we have spent time refurbishing the suite in hopes of attracting another good tenant. I won’t belabour the point but all went quite well and in the end we gained my (ex) brother-in-law Jake as a new ‘person under the stairs’. I could likely write volumes about the dynamics of him and his wife (and her family) but I won’t. I would like cause you some disbelief and wonderment about how these kinds of relationships could even take place. Maybe not though, I guess they are on reality tv all the time.

But I digress. After our foray away and my Mom’s move I just reached the point where I knew a change was needed. Don’t misunderstand, my situation was neither caused nor exacerbated by either our trip, the timing, nor my Mom’s leaving. They were only pointers in time, the inevitable return to medication was evident by that point.

After our return home a visit to my doctor supported my diagnosis, he determined I was depressed and had a higher degree of anxiety than ‘normal’. A regime of anti-depressants were again prescribed. In consult with the doctor we decided to try the Citalopram as I felt the Mirtazapine did not hold up it’s end of the bargain and let me down after some time. This became more evident as I re-read my paper journal and saw a decline in my moods over time. Another reason I had chosen to stop the Mirts. The Citalopram would also apparently help with any anxiety.

At any rate here we are. After being on the Cital since Jan. 28th I feel better once again. Not so much something you may be able to see but more an even-ess and stability of mood. I have more motivation and am getting some things done. I do hope it continues. My sleep has improved and although I dream crazy dreams now it is more restful. A drawback to the Citalopram is a tiredness during mid morning but I may change when I take my dose to dinnertime and the drowsiness may abate.

So in that sense I hope the tagline “Here we go again” is a positive one and I don’t find myself regressing over time. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

p

Wow! MIA again

Wow! MIA again

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder but I’m pretty sure that only applies to a few situations. Perhaps that only pertains to loving relationships, not errant bloggers. Lately I feel like one of those bloggers. I’m MIA, “missing in action”.

Certainly it does not apply to those who profess to love the art of expression though blogging, and yet in their absence from the ‘net show a position which could be construed as indifferent at best. I hope that’s not me.

What can I say that I haven’t said before, life gets in the way. Didn’t a wise man once say that?

Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.
John Lennon

Enough of that, it’s been said here too much before.

I’ve been a nomad of late, travelling here and there, mostly back and forth to Kelowna where my daughter and family live/work. Let’s face it, that’s where my grandson Madden is too.

20131018-120625.jpg

At any rate I’m frequently mobile, not lots of time at home. And when my needs for grandson attention call you can bet I’ll respond.

He’s a big one for electronics as you can see from the photo above. I think that’s a genetic thing as both his mother and father, and me of course, are addicted to e-devices of one sort or another. Not something to be proud of necessarily, just an observation. I for one can’t seem to shake ‘the beast’. They are addictive, so even if I’m not around, if I’m MIA, I can still likely be found on my device

The Circle of Life

The Circle of Life

English: Albert Einstein Français : Portrait d...
English: Albert Einstein Français : Portrait d’Albert Einstein (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Life is a circle, I’ve been thinking, and if you always turn right eventually you’ll end up where you began. Another way to look at it is through the definition of insanity:

Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
– Albert Einstein

I’m hardly saying anything new here, perhaps just another perspective. In fact I think my perspective would be a good quote in itself.

Life is a circle, if you keep turning right eventually you will end up where you began.
– Dwayne

Perhaps I should publish some of these quotes, I might be onto something. But I digress …..

My point is I’ve been pondering those things in life that’ve become more obvious to me now, more timely or ……. something I’m more conscious or cognizant of, the passage of time and my relation to it. What I do or don’t do with it.

I’m recently retired, more time to think I suppose, and that means more time to myself and more naval gazing. Whether that’s good or not who’s to say. And it’s not like I never thought before. I would consider myself a frequent ‘thinker’, I often just can’t remember what I’ve thought about so I often re-think it. Lets hope I come up with the same conclusion.

I’ve been pondering whether I’m stuck in a rut again. My days don’t often change from one day to the next, and I’m not complaining. In fact I’m not minding it at all, that’s the point. I just wonder, is it ‘good for me’?

They say seniors (which I’m not sure applies to me) are in a higher incident rate of depression and lower life expectency if they are not social, and I am not social. I call myself ‘non-social’ as opposed to ‘anti-social’, where ‘non’ implies not being social and ‘anti’ leads me to think you are against being social. I am certainly not against a social life, I just don’t feel like taking part in one. That’s not to say I don’t think it’s important, but it’s like Brussels sprouts, you know they’re good but you may not want to eat them.

So I do what I do, most days, and can I really expect anything to change in my future? Can I anticipate any break, a diversion from this path of routine? Not if something doesn’t change, not unless I turn left along the route and travel a road less travelled. Only the will the circle be broken.

More thoughts on:

Navel Gazing

Stuck in a Rut

Am I Afraid to Die?

Am I Afraid to Die?

“Am I afraid to die?” my wife asks me over lunch the other day.  Not your typical table-side conversation topic, but timely nonetheless.  And the question didn’t come out of the blue, but rather as an extension of an ongoing conversation on my mental state and well being.  I have been mentioning to her that I’ve been feeling more anxiety lately, that it seldom seems to leave me and it’s particularly acute when I think about work and having to continue at my present employ for some time yet.  Anxiety I can’t seem to shake, a fear and trepidation of some significant event about to engulf me, perhaps not dying but death itself.

She is well aware of my depression, and even dealt with it herself as a result of the PTSD she suffered after the death of our son.  “Are you afraid to die?” she said, “because I’m not, I will see Shawn.” (our son).  Just the thought of that conversation brings tears to my eyes and a heaviness to my heart.  The thought of our son and seeing him again in the hereafter is emotional to say the least.  I would relish that time, but do I desire death to achieve it, No.  I can’t say I want to die, nor do I think she “wants” to die, but am I afraid of dying? Perhaps……., of death, more so.

I don’t think I ever really thought about my death in any depth before.  Of course we all probably consider that it might happen to us one day (joke), and I wonder if we are ever really prepared.  That, I think, is the crux of it for me.  I do not feel prepared.  I feel like my life is being wasted in its present use, I want so much more and yet feel trapped in my circumstances, held captive by my lifestyle and material wants, incapable of breaking free and shaking off the chains that bind me.  Saddened by my weakness, overpowered by my grief.

One of our daughters is pregnant, due in March 2012, gender unknown.  It is a sign of rebirth, an indication of life and how life should be.  The future incarnate.  It is maybe one more reason I am afraid of death, I want to meet my grandchild and live my life so as to see it grow and learn.  To be part of that learning, to teach much as I’ve taught my other children, to learn how much more I can love.

I have so much to live for.  Such a life we have in this great country, so many freedoms and opportunities, perhaps I am overwhelmed by my fortune.  I realize I am afraid, and worried I won’t be able to fulfill the destiny I’ve envisioned, of living with and loving my family.  I have also come to understand It’s not death I’m afraid of, it’s not having life.

Why do I sleep so much?

Why do I sleep so much?

One thing I can say about camping is that I sleep like a log.  Mind you I’m going to bed later but I’m sleeping until at least 9:30, and yesterday slept until 10:20.  Bloody amazing, and the thing is I don’t want to be up.  It’s more like I’m happier sleeping and in my imaginary state than being awake and dealing with reality.

Why does life intimidate me so?