Jet To No Where

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Archive for the category “Life”

Fillicide

Marilyn Manson

“Is adult amusement killing our children, or is killing our children amusing adults?”  ―    Marilyn Manson

 

My son was gone.

I was screaming his name over and over, echoing through the vast rooms with high ceilings and shiny old oak crown molding. I was running down every stair case, looking into every room, searching…..scouring what was easily 25 old, Victorian style rooms. I yelled  his name so many times that I was hoarse. My through scratchy and tired, my heart pounding with each gasp.

“Jakob!!!!!”, I cried,……..nothing.  “JAKOB, WHERE ARE YOU???!!!???”, I bellowed down with each step. No response.

I don’t remember why I was looking for him. I know I was angry, but I have no clue as to why. He wasn’t answering me. He knew I hated that. I always told him that if he hears me call his name to never yell, “What?”, back to me. He was to come to where ever I was in the house. I knew he was mad, so that is why he wasn’t answering me and it infuriated me more and more. I was so angry, yet frantic…searching….”Jakob!”……”Jakob!”…..”JAKOB!!!”…..

I found him on the first floor. There must have been five or six staircases that I remember going down. I didn’t recognize the house either. I was a house from a faint childhood memory that I may have been in once when I was a little girl. Jakob was so angry that he would not even look at me.

I kept screaming, “Why didn’t you answer me?”….”What the fuck is wrong with you?!?”…….”I am going to kill you for this one!”…..yet, I don’t know why I was mad or what he had done to set me off so badly.

I had my hands around his throat, tightening my grip while he tried to yell….”Please, mom…..PLEASE MOMMY, DON”T….” I would stop and say, “This is what you get for acting this way!!!!”…..”This is what happens when you don’t answer me!!!!”. He fell to his knees and I stopped. When he started to speak, to ask me what was wrong with me….I started choking him again……”How do you like this?”….”Huh?”…..”Are you happy now?”….”Are you glad you didn’t answer me, that you IGNORED ME???!!!???”.

Then all I heard was a crack. I knew instantly what I had done. My arms fell. They hit the floor like lead. I was sobbing, ….NO…..NO….NO!!!”….What have I done?!?!”….”OH God PLEASE NO!!!!!!!”, I echoed the entire house. Then, his face faded away….. I was holding a screen…I think it was an iPad, cracked with the Apple on the front fading because I knew I had broken it….or him….

I just woke up sobbing. I am inconsolable. Why the fuck would I dream of killing my child? He is my life, my love, my legacy.

We went to IKEA today. It was Jake, Owen, Sami, Jayden, Seth and Jill. We met Robin and Miles, Jake’s best friend, there. It was such a long, exhausting day. If anyone has ever been to an IKEA, especially with one child, let alone five, they know exactly what I am talking about. Jake and Miles were running around the store, getting food in the cafeteria…..just goofing around as usual. He wasn’t especially bad…he was just bored and being 12 with his best friend. Robin had to leave early, so Jake went with them to sleep over Miles’ house. I miss Jake so much when he sleeps out. Sometimes I lie and say something like, “Oh, not tonight honey….we have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow.”, just so I have him home. He is my baby.

About two hours after he left the store, he called me. I had his iPod in  my purse, so he wouldn’t lose it while he was running around. He asked me to bring it over to him. I told him I was still here, at IKEA. He was angry. ….”What?”, he said in a disgusted voice. “I thought you would have been home by now.”….. You could tell he was mad. He was huffing and deep signing.

I said, “No, I told you it was going to be a long day and just because you forgot to get it before you left is not my problem…..There is no way I am….NEVERMIND!”,  I screamed. “I don’t have time to argue about this! Too bad!”…and I hung up. It was getting late. I was tired, frustrated with 4 kids and Jill was the same and getting on my nerves as well.

I spoke to Jake earlier, about 8:00 or 9:00 PM to say good night. He was fine…having a good time. We didn’t even mention the iPod discussion. It was long over and forgotten.

I know why I was holding a cracked, broken iPad now. I don’t know why I would ever have dreamt that I would have strangled my son. Truth be told, I wanted to strangle Jill by the end of the night.

I woke up screaming, crying, inconsolable. I wake up this way at least once a week. I have vivid nightmares of semi-real life events. They alway end badly. I sobbed and yelled, “No, no, no, no…” so many times, I cannot count. I was coughing and throwing up. I was still asleep for the most part. After about 3-5 minutes, I started to realize that it wasn’t real….I had dreamt the whole thing. Then, I was truly a wreck because I cannot fathom that nightmare. I cannot wrap my head around the fact that I dreamt that I killed my son….and for a reason I cannot remember….not that there would ever even be a reason to kill one’s child.

It was 1:15 AM. I called Jake sobbing. I said I was sorry for waking him and I had a horrible nightmare and needed to hear his voice. He was fine. He said he was still awake…that he couldn’t sleep. I don’t believe that, just because he sounded like I woke him up. He kept telling me to calm down and he was okay. He knows about my nightmares. I calmed down a little. I told him to call me in the morning so I could come and get him as soon as possible. He said okay. I kept telling him over and over that I loved and missed him so much.

I can’t even see the computer screen as I write this. The tears and just running down my face…my voice is scratchy and I feel like I am getting a cold. I didn’t even put my glasses on, so there is probably more than a dozen typos in this story. This true story. I write my dreams down as soon as I wake up or I would never remember the detail. It would never be as raw as it is now. When I go back to sleep and wake up later and come to read this, just as I have done countless times before, I am dumbfounded. I can’t believe some of the things I have dreamt and the sadness or violence of them.

I don’t know what to do with this information….why would I have strangled my son to death in my dream? I am calmer now, but still upset and crying. I love my son so very much is physically hurts at times…..my heart aches.

I guess I will be Goggling dream meanings after this…..or do I even want to know?

It’s a Wonderful Life

“They say depression is a silent killer, but truth be told it’s an ongoing war that goes unheard.”

by Scarlett

It was three AM, and yet again she was awake. Not sleeping was more common than sleeping over the past year or more. She wanted to sleep….to lie down on freshly washed sheets in a just made bed and snuggle into a few pillows, but it never seemed to happen that way. Every light would be shut off, the dogs sleeping, the children sleeping….the only sound being the slight hum from the cherry stained ceiling fan above the bed. But, with everything silent, her mind would be screaming.

She would be so frustrated. Watching a good movie, like Casblanca, never helped. Music didn’t so a thing, as neither did a book or magazine. She was in a constant state of awake that was eating away at her.  Her eyes would be so blurry from watching the television or surfing on the internet that she could not even make herself out in the bathroom mirror.

It was always the same reason. She never did anything correctly….at least not for him. He was not sociable nor fun to be around. He was constantly worrying about money and criticizing her way of handling it. Nothing was ever good enough and he always told her…sometimes in a passing comment….other times it would be a brutal, nasty berating until she would have to leave the room. He never let her talk or explain anything. He always wanted a “yes” or “no” answer….even though almost all questions are not that cut and dry, if you will. She hated seeing him everyday and dreaded waking up each morning not knowing what would happen….Would she get screamed at again?….Would he be pissed off at nothing to do with her, yet still make it about something she had supposedly done wrong? This had been going on for years, but he was tied into everything in her life….her home, her job, her finances…just about everything. She tried to leave a few times, but he never let her go. It was this strange dysfunctional hold and she always thought she needed him for money….for survival at times too.

He was an unhappy man…..but she was an even more unhappy woman.

Then, one day it stopped. It was an uneventful day. No shouting matches or tip toeing around him…it just stopped. She had enough and just left. She had planned it for months. He never saw it coming and it was just over. She never really knew what he said to anyone about it, but she really didn’t care at that point. She was out….she was completely free from it all.

She laid down on her freshly washed cotton sheets that smelled like clean, crisp linen that night and quietly drifted off into sleep. There were three new pillows surrounding her head that felt like cool whipped cream. She had not slept that wonderfully in a very long time…..But when she woke, she wondered….How long will this last?

It was her boyfriend, her husband, her father, her boss…..

…..or it could have been all of them.

The Definition of Insanity

Some people have been telling me that the definition of insanity is repeating the same action over and over and expecting a different outcome.
I looked it up and it is a valid statement.  In fact, it was Albert Einstein is responsible for that statement. He was also considered insane by most people…but then again, most geniuses are….. Lord Byron, an English Poet, Tycho Brahe, Danish Astronomer and also Michelangelo.
The definition of insanity, for me, is telling people how their life should be run and then they become angry when you choose how to live your life instead…..regardless of the outcome. One person’s definition of a “normal” lifestyle differs vastly from another’s.
So before you decide to tell someone that their choices are wrong, especially when it has no effect on your own life, think twice and do not judge. No one makes all the right choices. No one person’s life is better than anyone else’s life.
Once one realizes that repeating the same action will not get a different result, one has learned a valuable life lesson…..their own lesson, so leave them to it. There are no “I told you so’s” when you’re a grown up.
True grown ups do not say that to anyone. Grown ups recognize that we are not all going to make the same choices and we are not going to choose wisely, at times.
The truth is….we never stop growing up…..we keep learning from our mistakes and adjust accordingly. It is when we do not adjust that we are truly insane.

Back in Pennsylvania…

I slumped to the ground in a lifeless pile. The ground was so cold, so muddy. My fingers and hands that were so desperately trying to hold me up were buried in soggy cold, thick, wet dirt. The rain had not stopped all day. It was the type of rain that just kept coming and coming….no end in sight and pouring down. Every time I opened the door to see if  the guys had arrived, the rain was loud and insistent. I could see my breath outside on the back porch. I was wearing a white v-neck t-shirt and a long skirt….no shoes. The kids were inside playing video games and Ted was pacing nervously back and forth on the porch as he tried to put his best it’s-going-to-be-okay face on. It wasn’t working.

We knew something had happened. Something tragic, but we didn’t want to believe anything we read on the Internet. I only checked it twice and saw two news reports. I read only a little and closed them out….the computer was off from then on. I had a horrible sinking feeling of dread. I knew he did something really stupid this time.

I finally heard two bikes coming closer to the house. The sound was so faint, but I heard them. I had been listening for hours for that sound. I wanted to know what happened….the real story…… The bikes grew louder and louder until they finally arrived. It was Tom and Sam. They were wearing their usual jeans with their old worn in leather jackets. Tom had a cigarette hanging from his lips. He always had a cigarette hanging from his lips.

I stood on the porch, cold and barefoot, waiting for someone to say something. Ted was standing on the front steps, waiting just out of ear shot. They walked up to Ted so slowly that it seemed as if an hour had passed. They shook Ted’s hand. I couldn’t hear exactly what they said. I only saw tears and heads shaking.

Sam looked Ted dead in the eye and said, “I’m sorry man….there was nothing anyone could do.”

Ted walked back and forth on the porch while I just watched him. I gestured for Tom and Sam to go in, whispering there was coffee or beer. I still didn’t know exactly what had happened. I was afraid to ask Ted. I didn’t know if he was angry, upset or just completely distraught with grief. I kept looking over to him and he finally looked back at me.

“He was in a bad way”, he simply stated. His eyes were so welled up with tears that never fell. His head was tilted to the side slightly with a look that I ached for him. There was so much pain in his soft voice and crooked glance.

“No one could help him any longer. It just happened…..it had to happen sooner or later.” Ted said with a tremble. “He took a bunch of pills and wrecked his bike.” He went through the open sliding glass doors into the kitchen. I wanted to go and help him, console him….but I knew he wanted to be alone for a while.

On my way down to the mud I couldn’t control myself. I was inconsolable. I cried so hard my chest hurt. The kind of cry you had as a kid when you couldn’t catch your breath. My face down, struggling to catch the breath I could see right in front of me in this wicked rain….my hands grasping the mud, squishing through my fingers. I sat there in the yard getting drenched on the freezing ground. No one would know I was crying unless they heard me….the rain was sliding down my face…mascara running down with it.

I didn’t even like him. He had done so many awful things in the past two years to everyone who had tried to help him get on his feet again. The whole family talked about him taking pills, but no one ever confronted him. Everyone was great at that….talking about what was wrong with someone, expressing so much concern, but never doing a God-damned thing about it and then saying they couldn’t have done anything anyway. No one actually cared enough to sat anything….even myself.  Plausible deniability.

There was a certain look on Ted’s face. You cannot describe it….you only know it if you see it.

Guilt.

Guilt of never confronting him about the rumors of pills, erratic behavior and lies. Ted would never be the same after today. I knew it would be a long time for him to open up and talk about it, but I would wait. He would need me soon enough and I didn’t want to push him. He needed to feel the loss….face the pain….it was his only brother, after all.

Leonard was dead.

The Icy Chards of Truth

Truth Floats Downstream

“Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.”~Winnie the Pooh

I went to his house. I hadn’t been there in four years. He
wasn’t expecting me. My sister came with me, but Ted refused to come in. He
stayed outside, in the cold, biting air with chards of glass floating down the
stream that flowed behind his home. Ted waded in the shivering coldness.

“It will feel even more cold inside of his home.”, Ted said.

She wouldn’t leave the kitchen. He never came when I rang the
doorbell. Peering through the fogged front, Alison had to open the heavy cherry
stained door. He still didn’t come.

I waited……and waited for which seemed like days, but only
seconds. He never wore shoes when he was at home. In a soft, cottony button
down shirt and khaki pants with dark blue socks…just as I had always
remembered, he strolled into the living room. 
He wasn’t excited to see me. He looked nervous, yet angry.

“What do you want now, Alex?”, he simply stated. 

“Why….. do I have to always want something to
visit?”, defensively I remarked. 

“You always have before…”…..And his words
seemed to trail off, but they weren’t his words. He would never say that to me.
He would have been so excited and melancholy if we had met in a parking lot,
but not at his home with her there. I could hear the dishes being thrown into
the dishwasher, but never enough to be broken. Everything was fine china, you
see. I could picture the dishes being broken in slow motion, like in the movie Titanic when the ship was sinking.

Only the best.

And I screamed over and over., “Why don’t you care if we
talk?”….”Why don’t you call your grandchildren? I have been lying
about you for years, saying you have been out of town, working, busy…anything
I could think of when Jakob asked. I have been trying to paint you and her in a
good light, but Jakob is not a little boy anymore. He’s smart and he knows.
What am I supposed to tell him?”

My screams turned to tears of anger and grief as I made my
way into the kitchen. He didn’t answer me and didn’t stop me from going.

“You callous, greedy bitch!”, I growled at her.
“You have no heart! Why am I protecting you? Why have I been lying for
you….YOU of all people? You were his grandmother for seven years and then….nothing! I told Jakob
the truth. I told him you were mad at me and I was sorry that he was caught in
the middle.” 

My tears stopped dead.

“I told him you were a cold, hard bitch who only thinks
of herself.” He knows what you are now. I have stopped trying to protect
him from the inevitable truth.”, I spewed toward her. She continued to
load the dishwasher ever so slowly….”He knows now…he knows….”, I softly trailed off as if in a Xanax induced daze.

My sister was dragging me away….”Stop Alex. They will
never change. It’s not worth it….it’s just not worth it….it just won’t matter”

“WOULD YOU STILL LOVE HIM IF HE WERE BROKE?!?”, I
screamed at her, so loud my voice scratched the inside of my throat.

“WOULD YOU STAY IF HE SUDDENLY LOST
EVERYTHING?”……”WOULD YOU STILL LOVE HIM IF HE WERE BROKE?”…..”ANSWER
ME!”…”ANSWER ME, YOU MANIPULATIVE CUNT!”, I spat at her….the
words falling on deaf ears….she never looked at me and never became angry.
She did as she always had.

She started to cry….the crocidile tears she had always shown for my father….  for my father to see yet again that I was the crazy one.

“You need to leave now, Alex.”, he said to me in a
monotone voice. “This is not the time.”

“When will be a good time for you,
dad?”….”Is there ever going to be a good time?”….I said to
him as I was leaving the cherry stained door for what I knew would be the last
time. 

My sister lead me out by my hand, yet holding me up. I said
everything I wanted to say. I didn’t want to, but I had to. If he would have
just been happy to see me. If he would have just, for once in his pathetic
marriage, stood up to her….but that day will never come.

We found Ted behind the house, lying in the cold water with
crystal clear ice surrounding him, sleeping. I was yelling, “What are you
doing?!?”….”You are going to freeze to death.” 

He stood up, dripping with icicles and asked, “How did everything go?” He was joyfully
optimistic. 

“As expected.” I robotically said….”As
expected.”

Addiction is Not for the Weak-Minded…..

So…..Amy Winehouse died. Big shocker.

Hundreds of people die everyday from addiction to drugs and alcohol. This particular person just happened to be famous, so it made the news.

Here is my question: Why is addiction put into the category as as a “disease”?

Here is an excerpt from the following web site: http://www.addictionsandrecovery.org/is-addiction-a-disease.htm

Is Addiction a Disease?

Addiction is like most major diseases. Consider heart disease, the leading cause of death in the developed world. It’s partly due to genes and partly due to poor life style choices such as bad diet, lack of exercise, and smoking. The same is true for other common diseases like adult-onset diabetes. Many forms of cancers are due to a combination of genes and life style. But if your doctor said that you had diabetes or heart disease, you wouldn’t think you were bad person. You would think, “What can I do to overcome this disease?” That is how you should approach addiction.

This is complete bullshit. I was born with heart disease and not one single person in my family has it. I am sure I am not the only case like this either. I did not ask for this disease, which has turned progressively worse and I have even added 2 more heart diseases. I did not lead a poor lifestyle prior to coming out of the womb. There is no rehab I can go to that will completely make it go away.

Another excerpt:

Addiction is due 50 percent to genetic predisposition and 50 percent to poor coping skills.

So, you have a 50/50 shot of beating this of becoming an addict in the 1st place? People say that if one cannot overcome an addiction, they are weakminded. I think you have to be strong minded to keep up with an addiction. To put one’s body  and loved ones through months and years of abuse takes a lot of balls and an extremely stong mind.

“The AMA believes it is important for professionals and laymen alike to recognize that alcoholism is in and of itself”. http://www.ama-assn.org/resources/doc/alcohol/alcoholism_treatable.pdf

I do not know anyone that has been granted Social Security Disability based on alcoholism and drug addiction as a “disease”. If that were the case, ANYONE who drinks too much would be eligible for SSD. WTF?

All of the information below is from this blog:

http://themoralskeptic.blogspot.com/2010/08/addiction-and-is-it-fair-to-call-it.html

“To start the search for an accurate description it would be handy to look some of the pitfalls other descriptions have had. The American Medical Association
for instance seems To be a little wishy-washy in their understanding of Alcoholism stating first that the AMA, “Believes it important for professionals and laymen alike to recognizing alcoholism is in and of itself a disabling and handicapping condition.” They go on to call Alcoholism a handicap or disability 9 more times and sating in conclusion that, “Hopefully, this language clarification will reinforce the concept that alcoholism is in and of itself a disabling and
handicapping condition.

Well that is a clarification is great until you get to the very next paragraph where the AMA states it, “Endorses the proposition that drug dependencies, including alcoholism, are diseases and that their treatment is a legitimate part of medical practice,” and “Encourages physicians, other health professionals, medical and other health related organizations, and government and other policymakers to become more well informed about drug dependencies, and to base their policies and activities on the recognition that drug dependencies are, in fact, diseases.

So in one short address of the issue the AMA has called Alcoholism a disease, handicap, disability, and condition. It consistently claims that it would be
fair to characterize alcoholism in any of those terms. This trouble is not unique to the AMA, because addiction’s is a hard term to define. That difficulty
makes it seem like a shotgun approach would be the correct way to look at addiction.  Throw a bunch of different terms at the problem and you’ll get a usable framework for what it is. That being the case it would be handy to see what the shotgun was loaded with.

It is quasi-handicap because there does seem to be a genetic predisposition to addiction that leads people to become addicted more easily.  Researches have even have gone so far as to claim that they have identified what the alcoholism gene is. That gene is the CREB and it is linked with both
alcoholism and anxiety. When rats were bred without that gene they drank 50% more than usual, showed a higher preference rate for alcohol over water compared with normal rats, and displayed more anxiety than normal rats that decreased while they were drinking. So there is evidence that addiction can be a natural handicap a person has, at least in some cases.

Alcohol could also be described as a disability, although it wasn’t included in the Americans with Disabilities Act and the Rehabilitation Act of 1973 nor is it a covered disability for Social Security. The World Health Organization describes a disability as,”An umbrella term, covering impairments, activity
limitations, and participation restrictions. An impairment is a problem in body function or structure; an activity limitation is a difficulty encountered by an
individual in executing a task or action; while a participation restriction is a problem experienced by an individual in involvement in life situations.

So this definition is vague enough for alcoholism to be included, because when a person is drunk they are impaired, but disability, like the term handicap, is a rough description and it might be a miss-characterization.

The third term, disease, is probably the most controversial of the terms listed to describe addictions, but it is also the best documented. There is also a good body of evidence for calling addictions a type of disease. Yet, before that evidence can be looked at it a useful definition of disease should be given. Medline Plus gives the definition of disease as,”An impairment of the normal state of the living animal or plant body or one of its parts that interrupts or modifies the
performance of the vital functions, is typically manifested by distinguishing signs and symptoms, and is a response to environmental factors (as malnutrition, industrial hazards, or climate), to specific infective agents (as worms, bacteria, or viruses), to inherent defects of the organism (as genetic
anomalies), or to combinations of these factors.

I think that is a fair description of what characterizes a disease and Nora Volkow and Joanna Fowler show how addiction meets that criterion. In
Addiction, a Disease of Compulsion and Drive: Involvement of the  Orbitofrontal Cortex
, they show how addiction not only works with the reward centers of
the brain, but also has an affect on the part of the brain active in people who are obsessive compulsive. They argue that “IntermittentDA stimulation secondary to chronic drug use leads to disruption of the orbitofrontal cortex via the striato-thalamo-orbitofrontalcircuit, which is a circuit involved in regulating drive (Stussand Benson, 1986). The dysfunction of this circuit results in the compulsive behavior in addicted subjects and the exaggeratedmotivation to procure and administer the drug regardless of its adverse consequences. This hypothesis is corroborated by imaging studies showing disruption of striatal, thalamic andorbitofrontal brain regions in drug abusers (Volkow et al.,1996a).

Basically, chronic drug use subverts the brains thinking and creates a compulsion for use, which would be near the same level as other compulsions. Volkow and Flower go so far as to conclude that, “It wouldtherefore appear that during addiction the chronic drug administration has resulted in brain changes that are perceived as a state of urgency not dissimilar to that observed on states of severe food or water deprivation.

So the body/mind would have cravings the way that starving people would crave food. This is a diseased state where choice is subverted to the drives of reward and compulsion. It is due to this that the AMA and virtually every other drug treatment site can say that addiction is a disease. Addiction follows a pattern that is like that of a disease, it can be debilitating and leads to impaired brain function, especially in how it creates a compulsion in some people.

Yet a certain word is left out completely of Volkow and Flower’s article. ‘Choice’ is never mentioned once, that is the word that breaks the disease line of thinking. All the above is true about how an addiction to something like alcohol works, but it still doesn’t account for how a person becomes a chronic addict before the compulsion is created, at some level the word ‘choice’ has to be addressed by anyone who supports the disease model of addiction.  The role of choice is often overlooked by supporters of that model, but their critics often fail to understand that there is a credible background for referring to an addiction as a disease.

In the end I think it is somehow perverse to put alcoholism in the same category as HIV, cancer, and numerous other afflictions that don’t have the same level of control. I admit that some addicts don’t have total control, but it still seems like a mis-categorization. There has to be a more fair and accurate way to describe addiction.

Why can’t an addiction just be referred to as an addiction? If it was we would be rid of the vague yet all encompassing definitions that addictions are trying to be squeezed into. It would be an apt characterization of what is going on, while also bringing none of the extra baggage that comes with those other terms. While it might be fair to describe addiction in disease like terms, it isn’t the best description, and it does a disservice to disease.

Set down your shotgun and be more direct. Addiction doesn’t need the other labels and instead of spending time worrying about where it fits and how it can be defined worry instead about the actually affects of addiction socially, physically, and personally. ”

Thanks for reading,
-the moral skeptic

Factual, informative and 100% correct. Addiction does not need any more labels. It is what it is….addiction…..and Amy Winehouse is dead. It is a shame, but her 15 minutes of fame were gone 30 minutes ago.
 

 

 

Quote of the Day

That you may retain your self-respect, it is better to displease the people by doing what you know is right, than to temporarily please them by doing what you know is wrong.

~William J. H. Boetcker~

It’s not easy being Blue…

Being depressed is very difficult. I don’t mean the treatment of depression, the endless doctors and trial error of medications. It’s not even the hope of one day you may just get it under a manageable level. I mean it is extremely difficult to STAY depressed.

I have dealt and managed depression since I was…oh…about 22 or so. I have had thoughts os suicide over those years. I have never once attempted it, even in the slightest. I suppose now, if that fleeting thought renders its maniacal head, my children immediately spring to my mind and the thought is crumbled. Simple, easy…without a doubt. But what kept me from attempting it in the past? When I was at my lowest of lows….darkness closing in when I was a young, single girl (I would not yet say a “woman”, as the old cliché goes….”If I knew then what I now”.). Up all night after working in a club. Drinking, drugs, men  and women whom were strangers that I had a night with and never saw again. I know now why I did what I did, but why did I never try to “end it all”?

I do know now….as stated above, “If I knew then….blah, blah, blah….”.

I simply like being depressed.

I like sitting in my room undisturbed, thinking of all the problems I have to fix. Drapes closed when the sun is shining beautifully outside….most people would go out and relish in it all. Anything to get out of the rut of funk they are in. Not me. I actually enjoy being depressed.

I am an admitted  television junkie. I love to watch TV…anything on the proverbial “boob tube”. I have my favorite shows that I either record or get home in time to watch on weekday evenings, but when I am in my room in the depression mode, I’ll watch anything. My husband will come in and ask me what I am watching. Sometimes the answer is “Nothing important”. I will watch the same movie over and over again, even if it was bad the first time around. I watch marathons of reality shows that are not even entertaining.

I am having my pacemaker changed out this Monday. I haven’t had a good feeling about this for a while now. I cannot explain it, but it is an unshakable feeling, yet not one of fear. I am preparing to record my will today, maybe tomorrow. I need to burn a copy and send it to my lawyer, as my last will is incomplete. So, as I am making these arrangements, the inevitable thoughts of life and death have been plaguing on my mind.

So, as I sit here in my room, drapes closed to the beautiful day I could be having outside. Not even a fleck of light shining through with no desire to gaze at the calm waters of the lake I live on. What is on TV today? The Devil’s Advocate……Interview wuth a Vampire….various episodes on Intervention. Perfect material to entertain my depressive state of mind that I have no intention of even trying to dismiss. Life, death, dying, immortality, the devil, God, heaven and hell…..all the big ones.

I did manage to take a shower, which I have to thank for this writing. So many an idea has come out of my brooding in the shower. It’s where my best material comes from…or shall I say, comes together. The material has always been here.

Depression and anxiety are the new black.  Everyone is seeing a shrink and it is almost a daily conversation with people….”Well, what are you on to get through life”?  There is no stigma attached to depression and anxiety like there was 20 years ago. Everyone admits to it and openly talks about it, so I have no clue as to why anyone is even seeing shrinks any longer. One would think therapy is a couple of people having coffee at Starbucks these days. But, I rarely sit at Starbucks when I go. It is always in and out or the drive through.

So, Interview with a Vampire is over now. With all of the Twilight saga and True Blood now….you have your brooding, depressive vampires too. Louie is miserable…..Edward is suffering for eternity and Bill just wants to be one of the humans. Even immortality is getting depressing. So much for the glitz and glamour of living forever, being beautiful and never wanting for anything. That is out of the question too.

It’s 4:00 PM. I feel like getting up. I think I’ll go have a smoke. Yes, I still smoke with all my health problems and I don’t give a shit because I am not ready to quit yet.

It’s the only thing I enjoy besides being depressed these days.

Obituaries

May 9, 2011

Alexandra Catherine Senape Vader, 41,   passed away today from complications due to heart failure. She leaves behind her husband of 12 years, Theodore Clark Vader and 2 children, Jakob Riley Vader, age 10 and Owen Morrison Vader, age 3.  She was attending the University of Central Florida working toward her degree in English Literature and Creative Writing and had earned her A.A. degree from Valencia Community College in December 2010. She had been working on writing a book for the past 15 years, but never was able to complete it.

Born in Washington D.C., she was from Hazleton, Pennsylvania and resided in Casselberry, Florida. She enjoyed writing, family, the beach and music. In lieu of flowers, please send donations to the American Heart Association.

Unremarkable.

41….I thought that was so very old when I was 20 something. There were years to do all the things I wanted to. I had all the time in the world……tick, tock, tick, tock…..

Time is a luxury. A luxury we take for granted. “I’ll do it tomoorw….I will see my friend another time….I will call my sister next week….I will send my nephew’s gift next month….”  These are the things we tell ourselves. This is what we say to justify our busy schedules and jumbled lives.

It passes so quickly. I have said this before……last night, I went to bed 21 and woke up 41.

“The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.”    ~ Harriet Beecher Stowe ~

I have so many deeds left undone…….it pains me to think of them all. As I sit here, wondering why I let so much time go by, so many accomplishments left unfinished….I wonder if I will ever do it all.
“I thought I was going to sneak away tonight. What a glorious night. Every face I see is a memory. It may not be a perfectly perfect memory. Sometimes we had our ups and downs. But we’re all together, and you’re mine for a night. And I’m going to break precedent and tell you my one candle wish: that you would have a life as lucky as mine, where you can wake up one morning and say, “I don’t want anything more.” Sixty-five years. Don’t they go by in a blink? ”

 ~Anthony Hopkins as William Parrish in Meet Joe Black

I will write this obituary again one day. Not the real one…the one that was meant for me….the one that may be the groundwork for the real one. We shall see.

“Realization is one of the most difficult acheivements” ~ Erich Fromme

by Alex Senape Vader on Monday, November 8, 2010 at 1:42pm

Is sad that is took me so long to realize that my body does not function like everyone else. Th common cold puts me in bed for a week. Stress makes me vomit and the flu puts me in the hospital. If I make a promise, I keep it, but if it comes at a price of my health, I cannot. I look and feel (most of the time) normal, but I am not. I will need a heart transplant one day and until that day I am cannot pretend I a Superwoman, Super-wife, Supermom or Super-friend any longer. I don’t like this realization, but I have to accept it. I wish others could accept it and I understand that it is not that I do not want to do something that I promised, it is that I CANNOT do it.

I try my best to stay true to my word, but I am no good to anyone, especially my children, if I am too sick to do anything. I have to start putting myself first and I will not apologize for that. I wish the people who say they love me and are family here would understand all of this, but unless someone has had a life changing health issue, no one could possibly understand. No one will ever truly know what Ted has been through or what I have been through with our health.

It saddens me….it hurts me…I do not want to hurt anyone, but I cannot be what I thought I could any longer. I cannot do it all…I wish I could. It is entirely 100% true….if you don’t have your health, you have nothing. I do have Ted and my children who truly understand all of this…. because we have been through it all together.

I always thought that admitting ones weaknesses was admitting one was fragile or not strong.  It is not. It is human.

I now realize that I am weak to a certain extent. I cry as I write this, but it is because I feel sad for the promises I cannot keep….but it saddens me even more deeply that people called family cannot understand this. I needed only to explain this one person, and I hope she understands. I thought she did….and I hope she can understand.

 Now, I have to take care of myself….I have to do this for my family, my children most of all.  I have to remove myself from all things that have an impact on my health.

 Anyone who truly loves and cares for me will understand without a word.

 Others who cannot or will not understand…..then I know I made the right choice.

“To preserve health is a moral and religious duty, for health is the basis of all social virtues. We can no longer be useful when we are not well.” ~ Samuel Johnson quotes (English Poet, Critic and Writer. 1709-1784)

 “Before healing others, heal yourself” ~Indira Gandhi

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