Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
This email was Sharon's. Since she's no longer here, I am using it to keep our Google accounts active.
Hello.
Well, in case you haven't already heard it through the Buck-vine (Steve, I mean), I am now an apartment-dweller. I have a studio with a private sink, common shower and toilet (shared with 1 other roommate) and common kitchen (shared by all four). It is a "cluster" type, if you will. Anyway, gas, electric and cable TV are included in the monthly sum of $239. There is also a swimming pool, sauna, gas barbecues, recreation facilities--all river close and bicycle range from work. Sounds like a travel brochure.
So, anyway, I have been letting myself get into a rut, and I've settled into a more or less depression. I had a talk with a clinical psychologist available to me through The Manor. Well, he said, he didn't know if it was a genetically based organic type or just psychologically triggered situational depression. I showed signs of both.
Well, anyway, I am doing all the right things, he says. I told him I exercise, and sometimes this makes me feel better. I also have a very good relationship with one of the female staff members. Although she is married, I find her to be very open and truly caring. I unload all my problems on her.
That's good, he says. Healthy. Free. She has her bad days too, then I cheer her up. It's nice.
But, alas, my depression is strangling me. I have no social life outside of work. I cannot bring myself to go out alone into the world and mingle. I would dearly like to, but I have developed a crippling form of shyness called the "that's OK, you probably wouldn't like me anyway, ho-hum, too hip, gotta go" disease. I may be more or less anti-social. But I'd like to have at least one other person, if not a whole group of friends, to be anti-social with. I am a loner, but even a loner needs lovin'.
Keep watch over yourself, he says, and see if you get better, stay the same or get worse in the next two weeks. If you stay the same go get some counseling in the private sector, and it ain't cheap. Or read this book "From Sad to Glad." If you get worse, come to me, and we can talk about medication. That's the only way I am allowed to work, is with a program of medication and counseling.
But, he says, he wants to know if you had a history of depression. Does it run in our family? Does it, I says! A mighty river of depression, a veritable grand canyon of misery. But she’s all pulled out of it. So I believe it must have been situational, with you as with me.
Well, just thought I'd write to tell you about what's going on in my life-- "O." I got no plans, I ain't goin' nowhere. I'm setting minuscule daily goals so that I don't fail attempting anything difficult. I live a boring life. Maybe Steve was right.
At least I'm looking better. Since my depression started, I've lost fifteen pounds. Maybe I can market this weight loss program. Limited food intake, exercise and lots of sleep. For when you are sleeping, your body has time to really burn up those fat cells, at the same time you are unable to eat to replace the calories.
Anyway, I'll bore you no longer.
Here's my address:
C-Ya
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).