Etc., etc.

After almost two full days of sleep, I am ready to clean something -- anything. Crumbs and cat food litter the kitchen floor. In the bathroom, litter litters. The trash threatens to morph into a science project and the sheets  ... well, you get the idea. I am afraid the rescue rose may slip into the irretrievable zone.

If I let myself, I could use writing as an excuse for avoiding the work. Then food followed by a nap will take the reins. The longer I put off the chores, the harder I make cleaning.

I managed cleaning the kitchen and bathroom and gathered the trash. I stripped the bed, so now I need to put fresh linens on before I can nap. That will happen soon. The old body moans and creaks like a haunted house.

Laters Dude.

Yes, it is all about me

I see situations from the inside out. How I feel about myself plays a major role in my actions and reactions. I have a hard time living. So much so that I spent hours sleeping rather than facing my day-to-day existence. I  virtually isolated myself.

I visited chat recently for the first time in a long time. I reached out to those whom I thought would understand my situation better than anyone. The one who reached out was timid and lonely.

After the initial hellos, the conversation continued. I contributed, but what I said was incorrect and I was corrected. A lull in the conversation ensued. I took the silence personally. From inside out, the lack of conversation told me I was intruding and not wanted.  I said as much and left.

One of the chatters immediately castigated me in a FB PM. The chatter told me I had been rude and many, many things were not about me.

I agree, I was rude. I guess I had expected something different from the group that had been such a part of my life at one time. I expected them to be mind readers: since I was there for the first time in a long time, I needed attention.

I do not like me. Why should anyone else?

Later, Dude.

Take notice

Have you ever noticed that a newscast video never seems to last as long as the reader's script? Why cannot the one shooting video for a story get several minutes extra so the editor will not have to show the same little girl walking into the school three times? I would rather see the reader reading rather than repeating video.

Have you ever noticed when you are stuck in neutral no one wants to give you a push?

Later Dude.

Hide & sleep

I know dealing with a depressed person can be a downer. Many do not know what to do, so they stay away and do nothing. Others believe a depressed person can "get over it" if they try hard enough.

Depression combines guilt with low self-esteem. Depressed people have lost the ability to see the picture clearly.

Depressed people often think if they hide and sleep the pain will go away. You find yourself sliding into a hole and you cannot see daylight any longer. You need a hand to get out, but you believe no one wants to help. Your pain grows.

Depressed people can act right up there with Meryl Streep. See them at the store smiling and teasing. Happy! Happy! And a big lie.

Many depressed people quit seeking help. Why bother? No one understands. People who are happy are much easier to like.

A sense of frustration dogs depressed people. Why do they feel this way and no one else does? Why do others not recognize a depressed person needs some help, not abandonment? One tiny gesture might make a difference.

Laters, Dude.

Couched

I grew weary of this life

And wary of my death.

Since this I simply can't abide,

I opt for sleeper sofa suicide.

Sleeper sofa suicide

Just lay my body down.

Sleeper sofa suicide

I end up under ground.

I’d been to the purpose shop,

But could not find my size.

So I lay myself down this mornin'

For some sleeper sofa suicide.

Sleeper sofa suicide

Just lay your body down.

Sleeper sofa suicide

I end up under ground.

Sleeper sofa suicide

Just lay your body down.

Sleeper sofa suicide

I end up under ground.

Laters Dude.

Enough already

I have started writing this post a half dozen times over the past couple of weeks. I get a sentence or two down and walk away. Below I offer a couple of the efforts.

June 18:
Write your own. Yep! I offer some thoughts below, you can fill in the details or not.

Empathy the enemy.

Check out the shocking video.

Where did all the leaders go?

June 23:
Does the Geek Squad only hire those who look the part too? Could a cute guy sue for discrimination?

The nurse told me today my lungs were trashy.

June 24:
The past couple of days the sadness moved in, seeping under the doors and saturating the air I breathe. The moroseness wraps around me threatening to smother me.


Today
I called Doc's office around 4 yesterday and left word on the nurse's line that the home health nurse noted crackles in my left lung and, oh yes, I think I need my med for depression adjusted. I asked if I could be worked in today if he wants to see me, or does he want to wait until my August appointment. 

  Pogo makes lemonade.


 Miss you Dude. Laters.

Void

I do not seem to fit anywhere anymore. I am not pointing the finger of blame because the main finger should indicate I am the most to blame.

Later. Dude.