Book of Jamez

55 y/o malcontent, something of a writer

Tag: depression

  • Sometimes Depression Has Me

    Sometimes Depression Has Me

    I have depression. Or sometimes I think depression has me.

    There was a snafu with my medications getting refilled and I’m now on day four of no medications that treat my depression. Boy oh boy a rollercoaster ride for sure.

    The good news is my medications are on their way and I might be what I consider normal within a few days. My doctor for this is, of course, on vacation so another doctor stepped in to help get my stuff filled.

    I can’t sleep, super tired, can’t manage to get to sleep. One of my medications helped me sleep actually and now without it I’m struggling. When you don’t sleep there are direct results that include mind fog, irritability and of course exhaustion.

    Yesterday afterwork I just started crying for no reason, bawling like a baby. Couldn’t stop, nor focus on what was making me cry just was crying. I hate crying.

    I’m also in general irritable, grumpy and sad.

    Looking at it I wasn’t aware that the depression, like alcoholism, still stays where you left it. It is in the same powerful state it was when I started my medication journey some twelve years ago. Without the drugs to keep it at bay it will rear its ugly head and take over my brain.

    My depression comes with dark thoughts, suicidal thoughts and wanting to surrender to whatever it is. It’s very uncomfortable and I don’t like it, but then I start to relate to it and want to get comfortable there. It’s wild. I’m not at my darkest yet, I fear that’s coming.

    I have taken action and reached out not just to my doctors and the medical team that take care of my mental needs but also to friends. I’m trying to stay positive and keep reminding myself that this is temporary, even if it seems like a long time.

    At the suggestion of ChatGPT I texted 988, the depression/suicidal hotline number available to anyone. Chatted with a rep for a good while and found it was beneficial.

    Depression is a trap and it can grow comfortable and make you not want to leave. I have been in much worse spots than this and can get out of this one too. I just need to keep reminding myself it’s just a little longer.

    Today, I will do my best, which includes helping other people in an attempt to stay out of my own head, similar to what I’d do in Alcoholics Anonymous if I were close to a drink. Tomorrow is a new day with new possibilities and hopefully medications.

  • Twenty-Seven

    Twenty-Seven

    If everything goes according to plan, this Saturday, May 8th 2021 I will celebrate 27 years of continuous sobriety.

    I spent 22 of those years in the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), attending a meeting at least once a week. Raising my hand to volunteer, reaching out my hand to newcomers and reading the literature. I would even pray at least once a day, usually I’d recite the 3rd Step and 7th Step prayers each day, and as the day would progress I might say an extra prayer here or there. At night I might thank the sky for the day and ask for certain people to be watched over. I was a Big Book Thumper! I quoted the book, practiced the book and preached the book. I was a hawker or the 12 Traditions and their importance to making meetings and AA work.

    As an atheist I struggled with the concept of a “higher power” and or “god” and despite what the book or the traditions say, most meetings I went to pushed a need to believe in something greater than you to achieve and keep sobriety. I did as I was told, I ‘faked it til you make it’ til I was blue in the face, but I seemed to get sobriety without ever achieving a belief in a higher power. Made me kind of a hypocrite when I would preach the steps and not believe key parts were necessary.

    In 2016 I had a bad depression cycle and was in a dark place for several months. Nothing AA had taught me was helping, I was stuck. I didn’t know how to get out of it and didn’t know if I wanted to get out of it, it became comfortable and the new normal. I was actively planning my own death and looking forward to it.

    My primary care physician listened to me and prescribed some medications that helped me. I got out of the dark place and started to feel better and started to think that I didn’t want to go to AA any longer. I don’t know that they were connected thoughts I just know they happened around the same time. So I came to a decision to leave meetings. I’ve been to two meetings since and they didn’t inspire me to come back to the groups or give my heart aches.

    It’s interesting, my sponsor at the time noticed I was moving away from AA before I did. He mentioned one night after we met that it seemed like I was pulling away. I was having issues with the service structure of AA and not enjoying any part of meetings, not the people, the time or the activities. I was moving away and didn’t know it. When I told him I was leaving he wasn’t surprised and thankfully he didn’t cut me out of his life or anything, I still chat with him on occasion and count him as a friend.

    So what’s different if you don’t go to AA meetings any longer Jamez? – well not a lot. I still believe getting out of self and helping others is a key role in sanity and sobriety. I still meditate on occasion. I still don’t drink or do drugs. Basically I took the meetings and readings out… and doing ok, as far as I can tell.

    AA gave me a great foundation, tools to live a normal life and now I’m living it. AA is a great resource if you’re looking to find a new life and they can help you get there. I appreciate what AA gave me and how far it got me, changed me for life I hope.

    So Saturday, I’ll be 27. I’ll be spending time with an old friend for the weekend in Philadelphia, I don’t anticipate attending a meeting, just doing normal things that normal people do. Hope you have a great weekend too.

    Organizations that help you find sobriety:

    Alcoholics Anonymous

    Narcotics Anonymous

    LifeRing – Secular Recovery

    SMART Recovery – non deity based recovery

  • Happiness

    Happiness

    I started a new job in June, a call center. My first time at a call center and I wasn’t sure how I’d do but I think I do ok. I like it as it keeps me busy most of the time and I love being busy, the days seem to fly by when you’re busy more than when you’re bored. There was a job not to long ago that I had where I just sat there for about 7 hours a day, hated that.

    I’ve had three people at my new job comment on how I always seem to be happy and never let anything bother me. Alan said “Dude,” he says dude, who am I to argue “how do you just stay so upbeat all the time, you never let this stuff get to you.”. Brandon commented “Jamez you’re always in a good mood, I don’t know how you do it” and Farrah came out and said “You scare me, people who are happy all the time scare me. Like I wonder what you’re hiding.” Farrah and I talked a bit and I assured her I don’t have any corpses stashed under my crawlspace or in an attic somewhere and that I do have my moments where I’m not so cheery, she said she was less scared after. 

    These folks don’t sit next to me and hear me swear under my breath when I come across a record that wasn’t properly documented or cancelled…. and sometimes I swear not so under my breath. Nor do they ride home with me and see how mad I get at people who can’t do the speed limit as a minimum.. what’s wrong with those people and why do they even have a license? 

    At work I try to greet everyone with a “good morning” or a “hello” as they walk past and I happen to sit at a high traffic zone so I see a lot of folks. I also tell them good night and for some folks I say “thanks for being wonderful today” when they leave. Gives me something to do and it’s nice networking, I get to know people over time and can chat with them about other things if they run into me. Like today with Farrah, she and I chatted for a bit during a break but had I not be overly nice who knows if we would have. 

    I honestly am usually just ok with things. I swear, at home and on my own I’m just ok. I do suffer from anxiety and depression and take medications for those, so it might all be that I guess. It’s also some indoctrination I received from 20 odd years in Alcoholics Anonymous where they preach “fake it til you make it” and where I was taught to greet everyone before the meeting and shake hands with every single person there. After 20 years of doing something it kind of sticks.

    At the new job I frequently remind myself – “I’m not a manager now”. Which seems silly I guess, but I managed a team for a good 5 years and it’s in my bones now and I can’t help but get a little frustrated when I see inefficiency or people, literally, sleeping on the job then I start to steam internally and have to stay focused on making calls. Since there are so many calls to make this keeps me occupied.

    When I get home I sometimes fret/resent/repeat the day in my head and it keeps me up at night. My own errors is a big thing that bothers me, when I screw up my anxiety shoots through me and I get all uncomfortable and want to crawl in a hole. I try to not make mistakes but sometimes I get sloppy and fast and one gets made, I’m just not good on fixing it once its been done. I don’t like the feeling of failure and that just beats me up real bad in my head. So while outside I may be greeting folks and smiling – inside I’m fighting a demon of self-doubt and condemnation. It’s awful. It makes me feel like I can’t move. I can’t describe it other than that, it’s overwhelming. So I do try ever so hard not to mess up. 

    I do work with a good group of people and have good managers on the floor. I’m usually very busy making calls and only once in a while do I get anxious about making one and its not for a good reason, its random. Being nice and smiling helps to keep that at bay so I do it. 

    When I was newly sober I was called a malcontent and “that angry guy” but over the years “faking it til you make it” and just doing the next right thing helped make that image go away. My friends that have known me for decades know I’m not the happiest of guys but they love me anyway and find other qualities in me (I guess) to treasure. 

    I am not one to dwell on and fret about things over and over… usually. I’m not one to gush over things either. I’m kind of in the middle and just do things that seem to be the right thing to do… and at work, saying hi and trying to keep a positive attitude doesn’t hurt either.

  • Revisiting Depression

    Revisiting Depression

    I have severe depression. It is usually maintained with medications (I take 2: Aripiprazole  and Escitalopram) that keep me level. I still get spikes of depression that come in and cloud up everything and almost always include thoughts of ending it all. 

    A previous primary care physician suggested I may experience these in cycles, it’s an interesting theory and I’ve noticed that it does seem to ebb and flow. There doesn’t seem to be a given time, it’s not like every three months like clockwork it pops up it just comes. My cycle that led me to take medicine to combat this is described well here: LOST  It was a very dark time and I’m fearful of it ever returning. 

    I have found that since I’ve been taking medications for depression my need to write has diminished considerably. It used to be that I would get an idea for a blog post/story and it would roll around in my head, almost obsessively, until I got it out on paper. That has stopped, nothing really becomes such a solid focus as it used to, so there is very little need to write anything as it doesn’t need to come out. This is a good or a bad thing, depending on your point of view. 

    My prescriptions from my time in Phoenix finally ran out and I needed to find a new primary care provider anyway, so I scheduled an appointment at a place recommended by a friend. New doctor, cute as all get out, but at this facility the PCPs don’t prescribe mood altering chemicals, they insist you see a psychiatrist/specialist to get them filled. The new Doc did refill for me, which was good, but only the one time before I have to see the head shrink. I’ve scheduled that for end of October (earliest I could get in).

    I recently had a depression spike, not a really bad one but more of a foreboding one where everything seemed like it was about to go to hell. Part of that is brought on by my job where I have about 6 hours of down time a day… I’m not exaggerating, really every day I have about 6 hours of nothing to do… it’s causing me some stress. As a matter of fact, I’m writing this during one of my down times… down as nothing to do, not down as in depressed. 

    The spike, didn’t last long and may actually have been the result of a new medication the doc (did I mention he’s cute) gave me for a pain I was having in my elbow that wouldn’t go away. That medication is called “Mobic” and fixed my elbow up right good it did, no pain at all there and it had been hurting for a few months… actually about half a year, previous PCP thought it was tennis elbow but didn’t have a solution, this PCP (the cute one) called it arthritis, or at least that was his theory. I’m just glad the pain went away. 

    Today at the office the guy that hired me let me know most of what I’ve been doing isn’t what I should be doing at all, which would increase my down time at work tenfold. But he did have hope that I should have more to do, so we’ll see if that comes or not. 

    This was kind of a rambling all over the place post, but I wanted to get something out there and also needed something to do with my time. 😉 

  • Hit Hard

    Hit Hard

    Hit hard
    Can’t stop the tears
    Started with self doubt
    Then came the fear

    There’s a point somewhere 
    A cause of the scare
    An underlying reason
    Some kind of demon

    Want to run away and hide
    Wish I’d already died
    Don’t want to search for clues 
    As to why I’m feeling the blues

    Does it ever stop
    Ever get better
    Climb my way on top
    Only to have it remember

    Been here before
    Doesn’t get better
    Time becomes a chore
    Helps me get sadder

    Darkness closes in
    Comforts me within
    Doesn’t stop the tears
    Just feeds the fears

    Don’t see a way out right now
    Find it hard to want to somehow
    The fear feeds the sadness
    Then comes the madness

  • Diabetes, Depression and Death

    Diabetes, Depression and Death

    This is likely a whiny post. This was your only warning.

    I’ve recently been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. Many years ago I used to get tested pretty regularly to see if I had diabetes… see my biological father died from complications with diabetes when he was 48 (I just turned 48). His complications were that he wanted to drink more than he cared about managing his diabetes and ended up in a coma after a stroke…. and then we pulled the plug.

    A doctor a few years back, when I asked to be tested, said to me about diabetes “if you don’t want diabetes don’t get fat, it’s that simple”. So am I fat? I’m larger than I have been ever, so I guess that could be a yes, but I didn’t think I was that fat… and I know a lot of people that are fat that don’t have diabetes so the doctor was a tool I’m thinking. But I guess I’m fat… so we have depression, diabetes and diameter issues?

    From my handbook given to me by my doctor – “Type 2 Diabetes – This is the most common form of diabetes. In type 2 diabetes, your body makes some insulin, but not enough or the insulin your body makes does not work right. The amount of glucose in your blood goes up. Over time, high blood glucose damages the eyes, kidneys, nerves and heart.” and the “Complications of uncontrolled diabetes include” Blindness, Kidney disease, nerve damage, amputation, cardiovascular disease: Stroke, Heart attack, loss of circulation in arms and legs.

    That sounds pretty bad right? I don’t have a lot of fear about this – I’m thinking I’m not a fan of amputation or blindness … but with the depression going on and the goal being an end to everything, well does it really matter that I have another thing.

    People with type 2 diabetes may need diabetes pills. Many also need insulin. I take a pill with dinner, that’s it at the moment… there are no injections of insulin – although there were during my recent trip to the hospital, they can’t give the pill in the hospital as it might interfere with things so they give you shots of insulin, wasn’t so bad really.

    I frequently already have had hypoglycemia – as a result of this. Although it’s not unique to diabetics, it’s not a lot of fun for me – probably not for you either. But now I have some ideas of what to do about it and how to get relief. Hypoglycemia – think Julia Roberts at the salon in Steel Magnolias when Sally Fields made her drink orange juice… mine doesn’t make me a demon woman like Julia was but I feel really weird.

    I do eat a little more than I used to, but my diet is still pretty limited. I love pizza, burgers, steaks and fast food…. but I’ve started to branch out. I recently fell in love with rice… white rice… yes, I’m very vanilla. I love the texture, how it feels when it is cooked just right and you can feel a gentle firmness and just melt it away on your tongue… it’s odd I know. But I’ve also incorporated a lot of chicken into my diet – cheap and it tastes pretty damn good when I dry rub it in curry. I love my chicken so hot that I start to sweat when I eat it… well almost anything that hot is good.

    Exercise is not a thing that I like to do. I like to walk and I like to ride my bike, but that’s about it (No, I don’t want to ride my bike or walk with you – not a fan of people you know). Back in school I learned some boxing during a self defense class and I liked that so I’m thinking I could tolerate a boxing class or martial arts class. Going to the gym to exercise and just to exercise seems like a waste of time – there’s no purpose out side of being or getting healthy… well I hear (and don’t believe at all) that there are some people that get an endorphin high from exercising and that’s why they do it… damn junkies… but never happened to me, the high comes when it’s over and you think you’ll never have to do it again.

    My depression is currently not in cycle, my doctor and I think it cycles through and at the moment it’s not rearing it’s ugly head too much. When it does there are no solutions to anything and even the most ordinary task can seem overwhelming and pointless. I’m taking two drugs at present to combat this – Abilify and Escitalopram – and it really seems to work, unfortunately on occasion I get giddy… which my doctor says is a good thing and I shouldn’t mind, but I do. Not a fan of giddy.

    Even when the depression is off cycle that thoughts of dying are persistent. Those thoughts have more fuel now with the recent diagnosis – don’t drink, don’t smoke, what do you do… well not eat what I want anymore.

    I begin to wonder what’s the point – why be here if you continually can’t do the things you used to enjoy. Many people live for others – they love so deeply for someone that it gives their life meaning or something.

    I don’t think I really want that. One of the first thoughts I had after the realization that I was in love with Bill was – damn it, now I have to care about living… for him. Fortunately, love ends, at least mine did so that worry didn’t last.

    My friend Suzanne says that I bring joy to others and that’s worth living for. I’m too selfish to believe that and there is evidence to the contrary in famous people – Robin Williams, Anthony Bourdain…. they brought joy but I think they understood what I do this feeling of just wanting it to be over. It’s not a crisis it’s just a desire to die.

    I talk a lot about death being a human right and I think it is. It should be an individual choice for whomever wants to end it. There are enough people that want to live forever and ever and have those things that they want to “live for”, let them have what they want and let us have what we want… but don’t make it senseless, shameful and messy… use suicide to help others… organ donation, scientific study.

    When I’m deep in my depression and thoughts of dying are all encompassing I spend most of my time trying to plan a painless, clean death and I have a few ideas that are pretty good. I’ve had some ideas that were ruined upon further research by percentages or errors and or mistakes by otherwise well meaning suicidal folks.

    Imagine, and I do, a world where giving your life for others would be considered a nice thing… like Jesus – I give of myself so others can live. My organs, blood and body used to bring about enlightenment or life for someone who wants it. How many people are on lists to receive organs and will die because they aren’t there.. how many assisted life takings (we have to come up with a different name than suicide it has too many negative connotations and we want this to be a beautiful thing and it should be) could then be used to save the life of children, adults, loved ones that otherwise would die.

    I thought about selling my body/organs as a way to commit suicide. There is a black market (if I’m to believe TV Dramas) where organs go for big bucks…. I could sell my whole body for $80,000 – $100,000 and then they could take my life the next year… just give me a year to finish it all up and be done with it. Winner winner chicken dinner right?

    Diabetes, Depression, Death, and Diameter… added that last one here after writing thing appeared. Today, which is how AA told me to live, is just fine eating a little less, tasting a lot less and being more aware of what’s going on in my own body.

  • Wounded Me

    Wounded Me

    I haven’t written in a while – that’s the depression I think, why write when nothing matters is a common thought. Why anything when nothing matter? I deleted the bookofjamez site, you can still find those stories here but the site and host name aren’t being paid for anymore.

    My friend Deborah, (who makes amazing cookies that I have only had once in my life but I still remember, that’s how good they are folks – they left a lifelong impression on me… lifelong) wanted me to write something especially given recent goings on. She thinks I write well, and I’m never sure if I do or not. Self doubt is common I hear among writers and artists.

    Those of you that don’t know me or haven’t known me long, may find insight or be frightened by some of my writings, I’m ok with that. Really having more than one or two friends is hard. Some of it I am really proud of you can read my poem on growing up in a foster home called… foster home (yes, I’m that creative with my titles) or my passion for comics or politics and my disdain for religion. I have some short stories that went places but never finished and some short stories that are stand alone – and always ideas that float in my head space that want to get out – pestering me until they can be free.

    I recently opted to take a new job in the same industry I was working – reasons. That job is out in Mesa – about a 20 minute commute during rush hour (going against the rush) and I was thinking of moving closer, but really love where I live so I opted out. Instead I moved into an apartment in the same complex but one with a washer/dryer inside. That’s where our story begins…

    I think, though I don’t recall a specific incident, that while moving I was bitten by a non-radioactive (as far as we can tell from the lack of super powers) spider during the move or shortly after I was getting settled in.

    spider bite?
    Non-Radioactive Spider Bite

    Sunday: It started out rather small, like a mosquito bite or something but soon grew to to the image you see there. Hurt like a B and wanted to keep me up at night throbbing (not in the good way) and when I would walk on it or my pants/blanket/hand/air would touch it.

    By Wednesday I was in constant pain – I’d take two Advil, two Tylenol and two Aleve at the same time and still would hurt. I wrapped it up after slathering it in Aquaphor and it still hurt and didn’t appear to get better. I had a scheduled appointment with my regular doctor (a great guy I can’t say enough about, if you need a Primary Care Physician let me know) so I didn’t want to go twice – two $25 co-pays bah… I can man up and take it one more day.

    See I was to see the doctor because at my annual physical he ran the usual tests and one of them indicated I have diabetes. He had me redo the test and yeah, sure enough diabetes and this Thursday I was going to talk to him about what that meant and of course the painful leg.

    Thursday at my follow up I showed him my leg and said “Doc, I’m dying”. He of course said, “Yes, everyone is dying” Funny guy. Then he said “oh, something bit you” after looking at it closer. He prescribed an antibiotic and told me I could keep wrapping it and advised if it got worse – go to the ER. So I said ok. He also told me about a topical over the counter that I could put on the wounds. So I was good there.

    Then we talked about diabetes. He gave me a take home booklet on what I needed to know and talked to me about a lot of things I’m not going to be able to articulate here. He did advise an observation that I tend to pick at my skin a lot…. he said that was going to have to stop as a diabetic, wounds are serious business… well it’s one thing to say something and another to put into practice, or stop practicing… I’ve stopped drugs, cigarettes, women… what more do I have to give up? how fair is this?

    That evening I picked up my prescriptions from the pharmacy and started my antibiotic and wrapped up my wounds and then lay down on the couch – legs up against the wall high in the air as my leg was all kinds of swollen. Didn’t seem to help it at all and when I’d bring them back down and walk there was all kinds of pain. Not fun, not really WoW playable in that position either. The antibiotic was three times a day for 8 days or something…

    Friday – morning I started the day by testing my blood – no food, no coffee just bleed on this stick first. I think I went through 5 needles and 7 sticks before I finally figured out how to make it work and get enough blood on it. I also dressed the wound in a wrapped bandage and went off to work. Little pain but not the end of the world… until I tried to move or something, then ouchie.

    Works good though, I like work, they keep me busy and I do my best to be busy, sing and be funny if I can – not everyone gets me though and then I don’t seem funny I guess. The day went pretty quick and before you know it I was on my way home.

    I stopped at the grocery store for some diabetic friendly foods – steel cut oats (not a fan), green beans, oranges, apples, carrots, unsweetened apple sauce, couscous (maybe not diabetic friendly but I wanted to try it out), tomatoes and other non fun, flavorless items. See I had done a little reading online about food choices and diabetes – low carbs, low sugar, low salt/sodium… just saying “low taste” and you wouldn’t have to say all that other stuff. But I’m willing to try.

    Saturday – Leg in a lot of pain, kept me up half the night off and on and off and on… really getting on my nerves – had it raised up on two pillows but still swollen and painful. Still angry looking too.

    I was running errands, walking around – hoping the exercise and use of the leg would help (what do I know? not a thing). I came home with groceries and took a bite out of a whole wheat peanut butter and jelly sandwich and … broke a tooth. Broke a tooth… can you believe that. Like I don’t have enough going on right now we want to break a tooth on a PB&J? I thought my dentist was open on Saturday so headed over there, but no… not open on Saturday and I vowed to call them Monday to get this fixed. Doesn’t hurt, so there is that.

    My goal for Saturday, besides errands and WoW, was to watch Shaylee Gonzales play basketball for BYU – She’s an amazing player and you should really check her out. But I was so tired from not sleeping I did get a nap but it was during her time on the court.

    Saturday night was spent watching old TV shows I have with my legs in the air (not in that way you pervs) and hoping the swelling would go down and angriness would fade. But alas it didn’t happen.

    Sunday – Saturday night sleep was a no go, I was up all night. At 3:30 I gave up and just got up and did some stuff I had wanted to do and played some World of Warcraft. Saturday I had posted a photo of my wound (see above) and a lot of people suggested I go to the ER and call Teladoc so I did that.

    Teladoc is a health/telemedicine company that uses video conferencing and telephones to provide on demand services… that might save you a drive/visit to the urgent care or your doctor. The company I work for, LeBaron & Carroll Insurance, provides it free of charge as a benefit to its employees – thanks bosses, it was helpful this time and one other.

    I took some photos of the wound and uploaded them prior to scheduling my television so the doctor could see what was going on. The video conferencing is pretty cool and the doctor speaks with you about what’s going on and asks all the right questions… and he said “Jamez, you need to get to the ER, I’m a little worried about how this looks and that the antibiotic doesn’t seem to be working as well as it should.” Ugh…. am I right? I thanked him and then thought about it for a while. The Teledoc vid conferencing was at like 4:55 a.m.

    At 6:39 a.m. I texted my spiritual advisor, Flo, and his wife, Kas, and asked to have Flo call me when he was awake – I used speech recognition and the text to Kas said “have flow call me” 😉 . Then I took a shower, stripped my sheets, placed them in he washer and waited… oh, maybe I did the dishes too.

    Flo called at 7:10 and I asked him if he would drive me to the ER. See I was a little afraid… ok maybe a lot afraid and wanted someone with me… also, logically I thought they might do something to my leg which would prevent me from driving so I’d need transport. Flo said, without hesitation, “I’m on my way”

    Now in my brain I’m thinking that health care with video conferencing and diagnosing can certainly be like Drs. McCoy, Crusher or The Doctor on certain spaceships and just look me over run a tricorder over me and send me on my way… I literally thought this would just be a “give him a shot of penicillin” and he’ll be on his way… kind of situation, I was hoping it was for sure.

    The ER Doctor (his name pronounced “R OK” which was ‘ok’ took a specimen, they also did a local x-ray and ultrasound of the affected area and then all of my happy thoughts about the science of healthcare stopped when they said “oh, we’re going to have to admit you”.

    They hooked me up with an IV and started filling me with antibodies… We sat in the ER for a while looking across the way at ER Bay 42 which is where I wished I had been.

    Ruf3ICjURxa9YaerZhH4Fg

    I think an hour, maybe two, Flo sat with me in the ER before they moved me to a floor and my own room 547… not even a 42 visible to me…. I did ask if I could have that room instead but no.

    In my room I waited for a while and Flo sat for a while with me before heading out.

    They checked my blood sugar regularly, fed me insulin in shot form and wouldn’t let me eat anything I’d want to eat the whole visit. But it was good – we kept the glucose? low and everyone was happy about that while I was there.

    I was assigned a nurse and a nurse’s assistant? and then a doctor, but then a different doctor. Doctor King (not Martin Luther) came in to see me, tall white guy, handsome and all and of course straight came to see me and prodded on my wounds a bit and suggested a wound specialist he had work on his own knee come and see me. I said – I’m here and you’re the experts so he said he’d put in a call.

    Then he asked – “are you planning to do anything about your diabetes” and it probably wasn’t but it sounded accusatory… and I was like “I just was diagnosed on Thursday, Thursday.. what was I to have been doing since then?” and then he was all like “oh, I didn’t know” and now I feel like I’m writing like Michael Peña talks in Ant Man, like all over the place with little stories here and there and making lots of sense but taking the long way, you know? My cousin, she met this girl at the hair salon and they were eyeing up this macho brother from the Philippines… and you know

    The nurses at Honor Health Scottsdale Osborne were great – they took very good care of me. I did manage to set off my bed alarm three times in the two night period I was there, kept forgetting it was there. When it goes off they all come running and then you, well I, felt really bad about them running to me.

    Monday – The wound specialist guy came to see me, he was an older Doctor and he looked at my leg prodded, pushed sliced and squeezed – took some cultures and left…. no pain blockers were given during this procedure he was just “Oh, that’s what I want” and he took it… I felt so violated – ok, not really, it hurt like a son of a though…

    Sadly he didn’t get a large enough sample for his own tests so he sent the nurse (the nurse that I liked) back to do it and she had to come back a second time too… which was less painful but she was at least aware I wasn’t just a hunk of meat that is there for your culture taking you big meany!

    Dr King came back and said there would be no surgery based on what the mean ass old doctor decided…. so I wondered when I’d get to go home and was told “maybe tomorrow, I’ll come and see you as soon as I can tomorrow to see how things progressed”

    Now the mean doctor, who likely isn’t mean and just rubbed me the wrong way did manage to slice into the wounds so they were draining – he said he found at least three abscesses in there but I guess maybe slicing them open is all he needed to do. The leg did start to feel better afterward but never really stopped draining.

    Tuesday – They said I could go home around noon and Dr King came back to check on me. I did ask about the possibility of developing Spider-Man like powers, but he said it was highly unlikely. He was a good guy and gave me good directions for taking care of things when I got home as well as a new prescription and ointment for the wounds.

    IMG_0819
    so cute

    I received flowers from work, that looked really neat and my friends on Facebook and other places were very supportive and worried about me. Sorry folks, didn’t mean to worry you.

    My Ma called me to check on me cause I hadn’t called on day two yet, made my heart grow three sizes.

    My friend Flo spent an awful lot of time with me, and I really appreciate him being in my life and there for me when I needed him this weekend. He and I do get to talk about basketball when we hang out and other things so it was nice.

    Gerald and Katelyn came to see me during their lunch hour Monday and that was really nice to.

    I don’t often think of myself as worthy of this kind of attention and love, but when I get it I do appreciate it and it makes me very uncomfortable to be honest. I’ll see if I can work on it.

    That’s all I have in me for this today, I might write about more later and will see about wiring about the three D’s – Diabetes, Depression and Death – sounds ominous doesn’t it? wow

    Check out some of my other stories, send me pictures of your husbands shirtless… whatever you need to do.

    Jamez

  • Trying to Let Go

    Trying to Let Go

    Sometimes, more often that I’d like to admit, I can’t sleep. Insomnia is a big deal and it literally keeps me awake at night. I’ve tried a bunch of different things to combat this – stopped drinking caffeinated beverages, stayed up really late to make myself more tired, took a nap when I first got home… and more. None of that worked for me.

    I’d done some mindfulness meditation and sometimes that can help get me to a place where I just drift off, but that then leads me to get sleepy when I mediate as well. Might be worth it if it were a guaranteed solution to the problem.

    What I usually do, instead of counting sheep, is draw xes across my hear in my mind.. one line, then another, then another. The idea was formed from an old news article I read where a kid with a tumor would imagine a video game where he was destroying the tumor with spaceships and that killed it… likely he had radiation, chemo and the like but that wasn’t the headline so I didn’t really read the entire article.. that’s the American way you know. However, I thought visualization might be the key for me.

    If I spend each night, or most nights drawing a cross across my heart it may just give out during the night and I wouldn’t wake. That would be ideal to just pass in my sleep… I had considered drawing xes on a vision of my brain but I have this fear of being in a vegetative state and no one letting me die… like that one girl congress came back from vacation to save her life… which was such a ridiculous mess if you ask me… let people die, what’s wrong with you people.

    Anyway… I’m still here and still breathing and the heart is still beating….. so it doesn’t work, trust me I’ve been doing this for a while now.

    Last night instead of doing that I thought “maybe i just need to let go, if I just relax my body and mind and completely let it all go I’ll just fade away” that kept me up for a while, thinking on that and how it might be a solution. Didn’t work, obviously, here I am writing a blog post about wishing I were gone.

    Thing is, I don’t want to go violently or make a mess… I just want to go. I mean, if I were to get shot while just doing what I normally do or die in a car crash I didn’t cause… well I’m not going to struggle to hold on… but if I had my way it would be easier to just go.

    I ponder frequently about why we, as a society, don’t have a simpler way to do this. I guess most people don’t think like this… so why would they think a solution would be needed. But I reflect on the many suicides in the world each day and how they went… can’t we make it easier for them and survivors… just make it a new part of our culture… someone wants to die… who are we to say “No you can’t”. You want to live and I’m not saying “no you can’t” so how is it fair?

    not that life is fair I guess…

    I don’t actually think that all suicide is because someone is depressed or mad or running away… I think sometimes, me in particular, some people just are done… it’s a nihilist thing I guess… not caring, not wanting to have anything to do with anyone or anything… just wanting to be done.

    So tonight, like last night, I will just try to let go of reality and pass… I’m not hopeful, but strangely it’s something to look forward to.

  • Two Pills

    Two Pills

    The depression I have is mostly under control with medication. I was taking Celexa but it stopped working so now I’m taking Paxil which appears to be working again. Working means no dark cloud around world, not everything seems hopeless and I can justify not ending it all.

    I talk about depression and how I first came to take medication in a story on my blog called “Lost” and you can read about it there.

    I have seen a psychologist or two and talked to my regular doctor about these things. The regular doc diagnosed me as no only having severe depression but now I have severe anxiety also – I don’t really want to be around anyone, or talk to anyone or leave home… it’s fun to try to live this way. The regular doc suggested I see a psychiatrist so that’s scheduled. Not to worry, we all know I’m crazy so there wont be any difference in how we treat me or you…. or those other people you can’t see.

    Last night I dreamed I was meeting with the psychiatrist – she was a short pudgy woman with wiry black hair. As I entered her office she was sitting with her back to a corner on the floor, she motioned me forward.

    I sat down on a pillow across from her and we talked about life, my new job and death and dying. I advised her, as I have others, if they would just be two pills to end it all I would take them at that moment and be done with it. She offered me her hand palm up holding two pills – one red one blue. I smiled, and asked her if she was fucking with me… she assured me no. I grabbed the pills shoved them in my mouth and swallowed.

    It was actually one of my more peaceful suicide dreams.

    Today, if there were an over the counter option to end it all, with forms or online options to donate body parts to science or people that oddly want to live, I’d be gone already.

  • The Journey Out of AA – so far

    The Journey Out of AA – so far

    It’s been a little over five months since I published my story “Walking Away from AA” where I talked about my decision to leave Alcoholics Anonymous after almost 22 years. I stated then that I didn’t have a desire to drink, but I had a desire to be more honest and truthful with all aspects of my life.

    Being sober – living a life without drugs or alcohol – is for me. It’s a cheaper life, more enjoyable and less messy… things I need and want. Belief in a “higher power” or “faking it until I make it” aren’t for me, I can’t live that lie anymore. I gave it a fair shot – lying for AA, lol.

    So what’s changed really?  (more…)