One month became two, then three, then four, and now five. To the point, I only read the blogs that get sent to my email each day all two of them. The depression has messed me up, dear imaginary readers and friends. Shit, I only used the pool for one week this summer. That was my excuse to put off carpal tunnel surgery. My daily links on the internet I used to read became less and less to the point I look at the book of Face once or twice a day. I will now spend time on Instagram though Scrolling and look at people I would never have the courage or ability to talk to because of my issues and places I would never be able or travel to for the simple reason of poverty and my mental health issues and anxiety. I have not left the area I live in with a radius of 35 miles since 2012.
My medication management doctor visit was today. I am now to be on Lexapro 10 mg. That is the magic cure all vitamin oil; that will make the sun shine, rain stop, crops grow, and the baby Jesus himself stop crying. Can we get an Amen? Hallejuha from the crowd! My dear readers may sense my reluctant sarcasm just a wee bit. The nightly youtube hypnosis/mindful meditation videos that put me to sleep are doing as much or more than any pill has so far. If I had the love, trust, compassion, and kindness of a woman I would probably be in a better place as well. The kind of woman I am attracted to would be even better. Maybe someone unconventional would not judge me and take a second to see me but the dream is a bridge to far dear readers but if she is out there I always thought she might look like this.
For a man my age, I have a laundry list of medications like that of someone who should be in a nursing home. But it is explainable but still, makes for a rough day just taking meds and trying to survive hour by hour. Having faith in a higher power and trying to believe that I am a part of gods plan. But there are days that I am weak and the dark one is stronger and I just start to give in to the all the different pain and just want the physical and emotional to stop. Or to be endurable for a reason. I try to set small goals each day. So I can smile and feel like I accomplished something. Looking at this from the outside seems absurd. Next thing this wacko will do is give himself a gold star each day for the smallest thing. But you know what? If I have to do that insane level of self-reward to keep from giving up and checking out the next plane of reality to see if there is one or not? If heaven is real for the 2 minutes I will get while being judged by St. Peter before the quick trip to Hell or if I really luck out go to Purgatory.
But each morning I still get up claw my way back to the starting line and try for one more day and hope that maybe that today will be better. Maybe someone will smile at me. Maybe I will be able to leave the house and not be afraid. Maybe if I post something it will start a conversation that will carry over to the real world. Hope is such a dangerous deadly gift.
