My dad is going to die very soon

I walked into his apartment and sat beside his bed as he lay asleep. His wife gave a nudge and his bleary eyes opened halfway. A half smile shot my way with his hand moved towards me. I grabbed his hand and rubbed it, asking how he was doing. He said he'd been better with eyes closing for a few minutes and then opening again. I relayed things I had been doing and he nodded, patting my hand again. The talk did not last long as I let him return to sleep.

This was a different visit as he could not get up and I saw something in his eyes. It sounds crazy (to me), but I saw acceptance and forfeiture - he was standing down for the inevitable.

I left the apartment that day in a daze. I was very upset and tears flowed as I drove away. 

Numb and detached

I got a call today to tell me a friend had passed away from complications related to a recent surgery. Now, this wasn't a close friend, a co-worker who had moved to another state a few years. She was my manager at one time and we had loads of fun at work and after-work gatherings. I had just seen her less than two weeks ago at our corporate headquarters. There were stories and she called me an asshole - I think she was joking. I left her at a gathering as I left with another person - it was the last time I saw her. I feel bad as I made a comment about her (to the other person) about the obvious weight gain and all the crappy food she was eating - not that I was lying. However, she was always a nice person and she loved her kids and her family. It is a terrible tragedy that I cannot comprehend.

Another false sense of progress and recovery/fix

The past two months have been two of the best months of my life. No, I am not exaggerating. Like many others, my life has been a series of very lows and mild highs (or normal?) for the past 20+ years. I had clarity about it during my recent hot streak (yeah, having a "normal" good day is what I consider lucky), and I grimaced thinking of the basic Herculean task it has always been to just do the required or expected things on a daily basis. Every day is/was a struggle (not exaggerating), and I was always doubting myself with current state:

• Am I depressed or am I sick? I can be tired from illness like a cold, sinus infection, respiratory infection flu .... how can I measure my inability to function or get out of bed?
• I had a day where I got up on time, worked, did after work things and went to bed with no problems - is this what is considered a normal day?
• I am productive today, is this mania?
• I will take the day off and tell people I am sick, am I sick?

This all faded/dissipated the past couple months - it was as if a fog had been lifted and I could see the world as, I imagine, others can see it. You know those "others", those that seem to be functional and enjoy life while going though normal ups and downs. I had clarity and turned and viewed my past like a historian - I shook my head while remembering all the confusion. I turned forward with trepidation - after all, I've had good streaks ... just nothing that ever lasted this long. 

The good mood was, well it was good. I was not manic (as I kept fearing, after all what is productive and what is overkill?). I was not depressed. I was not hyper anything, I was just living life. I got up when needed; I met all obligations at work; took are of things after work; talked with friends/family; no sexual problems and I slept at night. I had so many items on old to-do lists, and I methodically worked through them (but again, not at a manic pace):

Remember ...

• ... when I bought that lumber to fix the desk 3 years ago? I took care of it (lumber not needed).
• ... the lamp not wired in the downstairs hallway? Fixed.
• ... the floor plans coming apart? Fixed.
• ... broken bricks on front of garage? Fixed (well, repaired, but looks like shit).
• ... the outside lamp bought a year ago? Installed.
• ... closet door complaints? Fixed, well sort of as you don't like new door.
• ... old front door? New one ordered and installation scheduled.
• ... garage door paint peeling? Fixed.
• ... back door and window rot/peeling? Fixed.
• ... router/modem wiring mess in pantry? Fixed.
• .... wire shelve issues? Fixed.
• ... kitchen faucet? Replaced.
• ... toilet running? Flapper installed/fixed.
• ... toilet leak downstairs? New wax seal, fixed.

Nothing monumental, just normal everyday things handled and not all at once. At this point, I kept worrying about mania, but it was fine.

Truthfully, I was both happy and scared. I loved life again, I looked forward to each day. One truly big test was a huge failure with fixing my truck (almost killed it and had to pay somebody to fix it) and not getting a job I really wanted/needed (got one later). Admittedly, in the past such setbacks would've plunged my mood into a dark place for days where self-hatred ruled. Not these times, I was upset and disappointed, but I worked through it. 

I kept thinking/wondering when the shit would hit the fan and this dream of normalcy would end. I told nobody what was happening (maybe they noticed) as I did not want to either jinx it or set false expectations or just be proved a liar. After two months, I started to accept it as a new world - one where Lamictal and Busiprone had proved to be the wonder drug combination that would save me. One night, I relayed this information to my fiance. She admitted to noticing differences in energy and she was happy for me. At the same time, I got nervous because I had heard nothing from my shrink and I worried the source for my wonder drug cocktail would disappeared. I left him messages with no response and eventually contacted regular doctor for possible prescriptions - the shrink did eventually return (his wife left him, should it worry me that he was surprised by it?) I had an appointment with him and told him things were okay (I did not want to admit my elation) and he did not change medication doses - I thought at the time that this was bad (and I was right or maybe it did or does not matter).

I regretted this confession only a week later as the dark cloud appeared again. I took a trip for work and returned mid-week. The trip was good, but I awoke the next morning in a fog with splitting headache. I assumed sinus issues., but the downward spiral continued as the struggle to get up each day (and sleep each night) returned. My productivity plummeted and the to-do list again stalled - my workbench in the garage is like a time capsule of what I was doing during last "good" period.

My days/moods have been up and down every since. I use an app on my phone called Daylio which I enter data for every day and it provides graphs/charts of moods over days/months and relates to activities as well. I can see two months of greatness followed by confusion. I have never been so disappointed. Is it better to never see the possible?

I wonder if drug doses are increased at next visit and that helps, but I really think no. I've read so much praise about Lamictal from individuals on various Web sites, but it is all a game of chance and the chances of me being stuck in a mental roller coaster for the rest of my life is very high - in fact, a given. This was my last shot (in my mind) and it was a misfire. Let's try mindfulness, more therapy ... blah blah blah, no I'll just summon the energy to trudge through the fog of life and eventually it all ends.

Is there something wrong?

It's a question I encounter frequently these days both from others and from my own inner voice. Of course, there is something wrong, but how can that be said to somebody else? How can it be said without revealing what is wrong, the what is I do not really know. Yes, I am tired of the trials and tribulations. My brothers are both idiots and I am not sure my sister is much higher up the scale. Sure, that is just my opinion and it's probably too harsh. Sure, I am sure most people think I am an idiot as well. I am just tired of the oldest's drama - he's now married and so in love, yet he still job hops and his kids are drug addicts and liars. He blames his ex-wife, but that is just convenient as he gets no blame. Nobody mentions his excessive drinking? Excessive drug use? Changing jobs often and blowing money at a record pace and let's not gloss over the constant whining and taking mom's money - playing on her feelings. I thought the oldest was supposed to lead? The other brother has returned to the bottle and making horrible decisions. Do I have to bail him out again, be the strong one again, be the wise/smart one again? The sister is knee deep in alcohol and drugs as well, but of course nobody is supposed to know. That's a hard answer to deliver without sparking more and more questions. On a more personal note, something is wrong - something has changed with regards to work, career, calling and I cannot put my finger on it. Yes, I never loved my job, but now it seems pointless and I've pulled back and now go through the motions - committing to nothing. What is my next move?

Things to not say during prostate exam

• This usually costs extra.
• Is that a ring?
• Your knuckles are huge.
• What are you doing later?
• Sprinkle the infield while down there.
• Don't forget the taint.
• Is this what giving birth feels like?
• That's my spot.
• Lower.
• No, lower.
• Seriously, lower.
• Hold it right there.
• Mmmmmm.

Something has changed ...

Regret is the hardest feeling to wrap your head around - it bores through your body and takes forever to get it out. I regret so many things today, but it is more stuff that I didn't do as opposed to actual bad decisions

• I regret still living within close proximity to my family. I always thought I owed them something, always thought family was super important, but it is all bullshit. Family, my family, only goal in life is to suck the life out of everybody around them - with an especial focus on me. In addition, while some have some blue collar skills, they have no education and no clear about public discourse on latest topics, no idea on politics, no basis in any subjects to make clear decisions on candidates, and all of them are living paycheck paycheck all the while making horrible financial decisions (sure, cash out retirement to buy a mobile home in a beautiful area with a Deliveranceesque vibe
• My family has no life experiences to use as a reference when making any large decisions.

Mid-life crisis

I want to call it a mid-life crisis, this thing, this thing that is and has been happening to my mind, body and spirit.

• I suddenly feel old at 45 years of age. Yes, it is old, but 65 and 70 and 75 is much, much older.
• I regret having no children. Actually, I always wanted a child of my own but she always said no. We sorta tried over the years with no success other than a couple miscarriages. I know I should not have paid for horse riding lessons.
• I do have a step-son, well sort of step-son due to the technicality that he and his mother have never formally or officially tied the knot. For all sense and purposes, he is my step son.
• He does occasionally call me step dad (when wanting money).
• The stepson knocked up a girl a few years younger - out pops a baby boy nine months later.
• I am now a grandfather, or am I? A sorta step-grandfather?
• I spend half of my free time during a week with this little bundle of joy.
• He laughs, he cries, he poops, he pees, he slobbers, he jibber jabbers, he is precious.
• The only arguments about creating children resurface - she's now 45 so not the best age to go into labor. I contemplate fucking a younger girl - could I even find one? How would it be? I am suddenly excited.
• Nothing makes you feel old like a four month old baby staring into you old, wrinkled eyes. It strikes the point that there was so much you were going to do and did not, repeat, DID NOT!!
• Am I too old at work? out of date, over the hill to work with the young inductees into the development environment. I was writing code when they were still playing with themselves in the shed. 

Have you ever been happy?

Like many folks, I've battled (and continue to do so) depression for my entire life (well, maybe not as an infant but who knows) and while the world mourns Robin Williams, I pause to say I can understand what and maybe even why he did. No, I do not condone suicide or even want to do it (at this time), but when you continuously battle your inner demons and the dark clouds are never far away then you can see how a person might finally wear down. While not has much as him, I self medicated for years and no it did not help, it only exasperated the situation but there was the temporary escape. Sometimes you watch others and want what they (seemingly) have - you want to by happy or content; want to be normal; want to not have to work so hard to get through a day. For myself, I had two hours sleep as the insomnia has returned - that is about 8 hours over past few nights. I'm exhausted yet good sleep evades me - the prescribed Ambien only seems to speed me up (it always does that when I am in this state). While I could not sleep, I also found getting out of bed this morning to be a Herculean task which did not happen until almost noon. No, I was not sleeping during that time as I did have my eyes closed during some of it as my mind raced from subject to subject with many ending badly in my mind. That's the worst part of this situation, the up or seemingly up (since no sleep) is not even beneficial or productive so its just a waste. I don't know how I did it, but I somehow managed to snow everybody at work and show up after noon with no questions - yes, that takes energy to pull of and is tiring (don't even ask about the lie/story told). It's weird, the sleep deprivation continues to worsen - it always does until I reach a point of absolute exhaustion and sleep for days (can you say crash?). Then it may be followed by a relatively quiet period or just recycle, you never know. Yeah yeah, all kinds of doctors and shrinks and therapists and YouTube videos on natural cures but nothing useful. After four decades, I've decided to push through with my own facilities. So, the point is, yes I have or had one, that I can identify with a person who reaches their limit - like David Foster Wallace and Robin Williams - and just wants to finally rest. While my thoughts are with his family, I also genuinely hope that he finally found the inner peace that we all deserve - RIP Mork.

Somewhere else

I woke up early this morning - it was an erratic night of sleep. I laid there, knowing I had to pee, the clock beamed 8:00 AM (this was early because I went to bed after 3:00 AM). I finally dragged my body out of bed and to the bathroom - a nice steady stream. I returned to bed and I had feeling - I had a crazy dream that I could not remember, but it had left me with a feeling. It was a feeling of wanting to be gone; wanting to be somebody else; wanting to leave. I started thinking - thinking about where I could go. I immediately thought of California - since I'm going there in a couple weeks. I thought about San Francisco, living there, working there, being there, nobody else around to get on my nerves. It went further, I thought about how I would look for a job in a couple weeks and where I could live. She turned over next to me and I looked in her direction. Where would she go? I contemplated just leaving, leaving her behind, getting a fresh start along in a new place. Then I thought about the boy and the grandbaby and I felt a pang of regret, I didn't want to not see them. Eventually, I went back to sleep.

I have to return some videotapes

It was many years after its publication (8,9,10?) that I stumbled upon American Psycho. It was published a few years after I graduated high school, so really it should've clicked with me back then but I was too busy with other things. I struggle to remember my life back then. Actually, I remember my life - had a one bedroom (well, one room) apartment, going to school (off and on before getting head out of my ass), getting laid and generally enjoying my newfound independence (left toxic family behind) and was discovering myself. It is kind of ironic that I discovered the book while working in New York since that is where it is set. But then, I go back to thinking about what I was reading back then - well, lots of stuff for college, lots of computer stuff and it seems like lots of non-fiction at the time. As far as reading and subjects, I tend to go from subject to subject - dive in, learn and move on. As an example, I used to play ball with a bunch of Jehovah's Witnesses (I was a "worldly" as they put it). I had never thought much about them and their beliefs, I just wanted to play ball, but there was a deep discussion about religion and them at one time (probably somebody I was or wanted to see naked). Anyway, I ended up hitting the library and found a couple books on the religion and devoured them - very interesting stuff (for me at the time), but really lots of stuff relevant to cults. 

Anyway, back to American Psycho. I discovered it - can't remember if saw movie or read book first - and instantly loved it. I loved the detail, how his mind worked, the critique of consumerism and narcissistic personality of most - and his general disdain for people really clicked with me (myopic is a good term for most people). I read it and ended up having nightmares (the two very graphic murders) and being surprised as nothing ever disturbed like that. Anyway, I read it again (skipping those two parts) and watched the movie countless times. I then researched and discovered all of the drama around its publication - women groups very upset (can you say misogynistic?) and many refused to publish it. But, it was a great success. The author's earlier book (Less Than Zero) never really clicked with me - since I was never a partier or drug addict - and none of his other books ever met the same success or controversy. What is interesting about the author is his wealthy, connected father and direct contact with publishing world. Would he ever have been published without those connections? He's the kind of person who has never earned anything, the entitled, that I hate, but I still like the book. 

The reason this all came up is a Facebook posting by a friend, where they quote the book - well, movie in this case. She mentioned the famous business card scene and it all came back to me. I posted a response and we ended up discussing it at work. I immediately came home, did a few Web searches (the author has a podcast - how original since half the world has one) and finally pulled the book from the shelf and reading away (gotta remember to skip the killings). I still like it. There was a discussion a while back about favorite book - I mentioned The World According to Garp which I do like, but how did I forget Bateman?

Sleep deprivation

I never liked the move Insomnia, but the overarching theme of not sleeping and the way it affected Pacino's character in the movie was palpable - you could feel it and it wasn't good. I have battled sleep problems my whole life, but a few things to note:

• I was born at 10:30 PM, so I have a theory that it makes me a night person thus I want to stay up.
• I never had a formal bedtime from middle school onward, so I developed bad habits like staying up way too late and sleep walking through the next day. I would nap in the afternoons when home from school.
• I get grooving on a project, on work, reading, whatever and don't want to stop and sleep.

Of course, these items are under my control - uhm, like going to bed at a decent hour - but the flip side is I often cannot sleep when I actually do clock out at a decent hour. There is no worse feeling than staring at the ceiling; trying to make my brain stop; rolling over; realizing you have to pee and trying to ignore it but finally doing it; and just generally staring at the green beams from my clock while always doing quick math to figure out how much sleep I could get if I went to sleep right NOW.

Last night is a good example. I was in a groove with a writing piece and I kept working as the clock inched forward. Finally, I felt tired and at a good stopping point around 2:30 AM and shut everything down. In the back of my mind I knew as I laid down (she sound asleep) that it would not be a good night. My eyes flipped open as I settled into the high thread count sheets.

I turned, I rolled and finally sat up and went downstairs. I read until 4:00 AM and then laid on the couch, I finally dozed off probably around 4:30 before waking as she left for work at 6:00 AM. I returned to bed and naturally fell into a deep sleep only to be jarred awake as the alarm screamed at 8:00 AM. I briefly flirted with taking a day off or possibly a half day, but eventually realized it was a bad idea. It was one of the longest days of my life - I was so tired through the day that I felt sick. I ran out when the day ended, arrived home dead tired and somehow ended up with some afternoon delight (not sure what was up with her) which drained the rest of my energy. 

A nice two hours of sleep followed and I awoke with the concern of that sleep negatively impacting later attempts at rest. So, here I sit in bed, feeling really tired. Wish me luck!