Die some more tonight

I'll die some more tonight and dance tomorrow night. I'll eat sweet strawberries and try to be open to all. I will hope more dreams do not die in the night and tomorrow really will be better. Hope is the killer. Hope is the cure. Hope is the killer. Hope is the cure.

Afraid....it so rarely works...

Someone is being nice to me. Someone may even love me. Someone secret. I write here and she will see what I am writing so am I writing tio her or from me? Frome me is hardest. From me is all this has been. My lengthy babbles about my existance. Me. From me.
I am afraid. I want to have what I want. Don't we all? But I rarely get it.
My cousin is going out with this guy who is lame, treats her crappy and it is a new relationship. She says "yYou can't help who you like" and I just shut up. How can I argue with that, so I guess I support her. She likes the guy so it's war, disapprove and play nice or support her.
NOw me. I like someone who will probably never like me. I don't know if I love her, probably not, we spend no time together so I guess I want to see if we can be we. So now I know what I want. Try to see if feelings are there spending time together.
This will not happen. She is always busy and continues to do several things at once, continuously to fill her time. Now it is a new thing, then the next thing...so I'll never be able to be more important than the next activity or interest. In writing this I have decided I am a total fool and should withdraw all offers and sink into "aquantance" and NOT GET WHAT I WANT. Do I need to be hit in the head with a hammer?
She does not want me. Obvious but painful on top of pain. Smarten up and get over it, believe the millions of signs that say "she says NO" and live with it. Yippee! Cheated by my own hope again....damn positiveism! Doesn't work worth a crap. I will never even be kissed by her with passion so stop.
Stop. STOP!!!
OK, she can try for her wants and succeed or fail.
I have failed in my want.
Now a secret admirer may love me.
Sounds perfect!! A wonderful, caring woman who may love and rescue me!!!! Sign me up!!!
I am gonna get married and have a baby!!! Yippee!!!.....what did you say.....slow down????
Oh ya, right...what if she is my age, probably is, so no baby for me. No genetic contimuation of my gene pool. What if she doesn't like my assholeishness...what if I don't like her.....her what....? I know nothing but a sweet intention. I whiff of hope..... I don't know if I can take another letdown. Do I have to give up making my own baby?
Don't type a word about adopting as it is not passing on my genes....like I am too dumb to know that adoption is an option? You wouldn't believe how many say "You can adopt" like I was 4 not 44. Do they really think that is helping???? Treating me like I am an idiot for not adopting...like I haven't considered it ???? Fucking unreal the help I get, and am expected to be grateful for, like a double idiot.
Adopting is not making a baby and every woman out there with a baby should NEVER tell someone who can make a baby to adopt. YOu have your genes alive....so I would think you would understand that instinct to CREATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sheesh, I get sick of having to educate about every little thing. Respect is such an easy thing to demand for many, but impossible to give for them as well. Adopt??? You should think before you blurt out your obvious solutions and respect the fact that I could NEEDTO CREATE as much as any MOTHER!
So, am I am asshole for wanting a baby made by me? I would call myself a Husband and Father, not asshole.
Will my secret admirer want a baby? I find it almost impossible to think so. We want what we want. We like who we like. We love who we love.
It might be real....she could be in her 30's or late 20's and want a family....and love me....and me love her.....it could be......but I can't see it in this dark.
I love the strawberries. I eat each one with care and a slight solemnity. It is a decleration of love I hold, and tase. It is a decleration of some wonderful woman who does not deserve pain. I may be the source of her pain, I realise, as I eat the beautiful strawberry, taste the chocolate, the sweet and sour of the fleshy fruit. I find tears and frustration at every turn. Everything good hides a poisionous snake, slumbering and coiled. I will be the bad guy. I am not fit for human company because I want a baby. How does that turn out this way for me.....? I am so afraid of who it might not be that loves me enough to show me her heart and trust me not to damage it. I want to be happy.
I want to be happy.
I want to be happy.
Did the spell work? Magic is for children. I have no magic at all in my life. I am afraid. I am always so afraid because reality makes wanting a baby, like a good father would, a viper in the crib instead of the worlds greatest good.

I went to my Dr. for my usual 3 or 4 month appt. and I am on a much stricter time and dosage of Effexor XR. The spins are being reported from all corners. It is a symptom of quick drops or increases in seratonin. I am trying to even out my spikes and have been spinning almost constantly for 2 days, low level for the most part, with crazy moments of disorientation. I am hoping I will even out in the next week. I haven't been able to work for a week. I have a small job to do and I need the money sooooooooo badly, but, as usual, I am stymied by my own bloddy brain! I need to be on a roof, but in this condition I could fall eaisly. Not good. I have to do it myself as I can't afford to pay my guy to help me. So there it sits, my wee job, mocking me as I spin. It's a day and a half and I can barely drive.

"You have to be healed, then you will be able to find love"

This is a letter in reply to a friend who has been sweet enough to try and help me. Here is the last part, it is all anonymous, but this is an arguement I have heard since day 1.
Here is a portion of her letter :"Yes I have love now, but it wasn't until I cured myself of my disease that I was able to find love. Nobody would have wanted me when I was miserable and the only way not to be miserable was to heal myself by focusing on myself, the positive and making physical steps to feeling better. Only when I was truly happy with me and only me, did I find true love. Happiness has nothing to do with suffering.I'm just talking to you from the other side hoping I could help you come through what I have already come through. I'm glad to hear you are seeking therapy, and I hope you are able to feel better soon"
Everyone is so sure and very sweet to even bother trying to get through to me, so I can't feel anything but good thoughts towards you all. There are some realities though that are not adressed so :
I took me a while, rough week, but I have my meds reviewed and changed a little so I am hopeful for feeling even. The spins I suffer through are spikes up or down in serotonin and if I am better at taking my meds precicely on the new times we hope I'll even out.
About loving yourself. I get this all the time. I love myself, like myself, even admire myself! So I am sick, hate my life, my pain, but as for me, personnally...I am awesome, ask anyone who spends more than 10 minutes with me!!LOL I love myself and have for a long time.
The real question is : Can anyone love anyone who is ill? The idea I have to be fixed to love myself, then have someone love me seems a little pat. Oprah and Dr. Phill agree with you and millions more do as well. I don't assocoiate those who expect you to be fixed to become worthy of love. I have worked with the handicapped, mentally and physically handicapped and they will never be fixed. They are as they are. They get my love. Frinedship is different than partnership for sure so lets get more focused on partnership to be accurate.To become partners with someone who isn't repaired seems pretty normal. I think we have been sold a crock of shit that makes 2 classes of people. We think that we can take the broken, tell them to repair and then they become worthy to jump classes to the loveable. How hard. How Harsh. How inhuman. I will never ascribe to putting the onus on the victim for thier own plight. Not a rape victim, not a traffic accident victim, not a victim of birth, nor a victim of circumstance. Recognising and allowing for what is "wrong" is a good way to begin an honest relationship with a real human who doesn't have to hide anything about themselves, even thier horrible "unfit for love" situation, thier being broken. I am saddened that you believe you were only open to love when you were better. That time alone must have been hard. I truly think if what you have is real end enduring, till death us do part like my mom and dad had, that you can be loved in any state. I have proof.My ex Vicky found me at my lowest ever. I could be out of the house 10 minutes at the most, this is after I was almost murdered.I was lovable because who I am is still there. Who I am never died. Who I am is visable to those who have true compassion and don't let the world give them excuses to join in with, so everyone can find comfort in shared heartlessness. I find it so amazing how many good people believe as you do, but it is the popular way to think for 15 years now so the amazement is worn off for the most part.I think you are worth loving no matter your state. As a matter of fact, I think you need more love the worse you are, which is completely opposite from"heal then be worthy". Seriously, can't you see that? Can't I change your mind? The funnt thing is, if someone whould have cared enough for you when you were down at your lowest you would have suffered so much less.
I find the attitudes of people so perplexing. Self fullfillment before family. Work not Love. take not give.....and then bitch that the world is harsh and there should be more like "me". I bitch becuse love is dying, care is dissappearing, hope is dwindling and white folk keep drinking wine and eating take out. Your next door neighbor may be hanging himself because nobody will say good morning because he isn't fixed yet and needs to work harder on fixing himself.I guess we are arguing now. I should stop. Everyone ends up pissed at me, cause, although they don't mind challlenging me to do this and that like I have boundless energy and have never tried to help myself in 14 years. I get challeneged every day, but nobody seems to accept being challeneged back, typical and expected by now.I am open to love being sick and I am as well as I can be at this moment in time, with the pressures of this economy and life in general being faced all alone.You found your way and are super happy, in love, loved, have financial and emotional help. You sleep with someone, kissthem and have them hold you, all because you fixed yourself and found a guy who liked you when you were fixed and shiney because he wants someone fixed not broken.I want something far different as to be alien. I wantr someone who is caring, loyal compassionate, kind and loving who can see that I am worth it. When they get cancer, I won't leave. If they break, I won't leave. If they loose thier job, I won't leave. She won't leave because I am broken either. That is love like my mom and dad had. You are happy and found your road and in 10 years you will still be happy, 20 years too, the same guy to be there for your life...I will be too with the kind of woman I am compatable with and she will not want me "fixed" or not at all, and I will give her the same devotion.

I am unfit for help, even unfit for the suicide hotline

I am unfit for humans. I am unfit for help.

Tuesday I am crying and the dispair is coming in waves. I try and numb my mind, illiminate possible triggers and negative feedback but I am losing. I am in a 10 minute or so assault cycle. 10 minutes pass and the fear wells up..."on the streets" and I start to shake. I try to stop, to distract, to numb, but the chemicals from that microsecond of fear have been released into my bloodstream. I cry, the pain building quickly, too fast for me to counter...damn fear chemicals! I try and not think, and fail. I an a failure. A loser who can't control himself. Doomed to be loveless and ripped off for 1000 at any time. Useless fucker I am, who will ever want me? I cry and shake, sob and shake. My whole body hurts and my head feels like a tensor bandage streched to the limit is squeesing my head as I pant like an old dog after 3 stairs. Just like the dog death is near. I wail, and just lay on the floor. I can't get up, my legs don't work. I feel the spins as my pill is burned through and I take another and hold my head in my hand, fingers and thumb at the temples and feel the throb and I know the spins will make me like a concussion victim so I don't try and get off the floor but lay back down, swallowing the pill dry. And I cry, nobody to hold me, love me, care, kiss me...not ever with me like this. It lasts 2 or 3 minutes and I find a blank spot in my thinking. Just a moment of...nothing and I seize the chance. In this moment of nothing I stop crying by sheer will and, after a minute catch my breath and call Rox at the Mobile Unit South, a lady who will come to your house and visit you and council you. It is a good service when it works, but, I am KC and doomed so........hold onto your hats, this is so nasty you will be stunned.

Rox isn't there and I get Jason. He says "Think positive" and I hear him typing on the computer. I am so diminished. I am not worth undivided attention from the suicide prevention guy and he gives me the worst advice ever given. Think positive?????? My disease, which he is well aware of as this is my 4th time calling, attacks positive thinking. Duh!!!! His advice is undoable by definition! I say asking me to just think positive isn't much help as my disease attacks my ability to do that very thing. He sounds miffed and says, in a miffed voice as he types, you need to think positive again. I tell him that asking me to think positive at this moment is like asking a one legged man to run. He then gets offended and says, 'well I am telling you what you need to do', in this, "oh boy, another idiot wasting my time" voice . I ask him if he is there for me or if I am there for him and he says that I am being abusive. I am shocked. I ask if he understands that his advice may or may not be good for me and he becomes angry at the notion "think positive" might now be good advice for me right now. Mad at me. The suicide prevention guy has made this conversation about me validating his advice and is mad I am not. What the fuck is wrong with my life?????? I am being shit on by the suicide prevention guy.

He suggests AISH Assistance for the Severely Handicapped. I say AISH is a joke for those of us with mental illness as the 10 minute interview to determine if we qualify is designed to exclude everyone who is not "severe" in thise interviewers estimation. As my doctor say, "You have to have no arms or legs to even be considered!" I have no sooner said this when he informs me he used to be an intake worker at AISH. I say then am I right I won't get it? He says" I won't talk about this. You are not geting help from me it seems so I will no longer talk with you."


I am ditched by the suicide prevention guy!! It is funny now, like a sick joke made real. But at the time I was shocked that he would do this to me or anyone else. He transfers me to Sue for "help" and she gets on the phone pissed off from the first word. Of cource, like in any job, say the mailroom, Jason gives Sue a heads up and she is ready to fight and offended on Jasons behalf and spits out the words, "This is Sue, can I help you?" I chuckle wryly and say " I called for help and don't seem to be getting any." I will cut short, in less than 2 minutes of "name me something positive" and my answering " I can't think of 1 thing right now" ended in Sue saying "I won't help you, you can call back and ask for a manager" after I swore and demanded an apology.

I called back, furious and so hurt the two were crowding my head and got....an answering machine for Irene who, 2 days later has not called me back. I left a message and called back again and got one of the program heads, Jackie. Finally Jackie!!!
Jackie listened to every word. I could here her furiously writing notes. She was shocked, stunned, mortified and completely sympathetic. I swore, I yelled, which appearantly sick people can't do on a suicide hotline (didn't make any sence to Jackie either! Thank Thor!LOL) She could not believe the damage that was done to me by "help" for me. She and I talked for over an hour and I have much of it on video...I may put it up somewhere when I feel strong enough to let the world see me at my near worst, crying, changing moods in nano seconds...but with Jackie it was to LISTEN and SYMPATHISE, not offer Dr. Phil and Oprah slogans and tired cliche's. Help is sympathy not instant solutions as they pop into your head. For instance.....I have been medicated for 14 years and people say, " You should get off the pills" or "Think positive" or the ever helpful "It's all in your head". Anmd to these I am supposed to go "Thankyou for the incredible advice! I will do it!" then skip away laughing and cured!! Jackie laughed when I said this and said "The meds keep you alive!" and laughed again ath the same thing as me. Wow, cool, someone actually thinking, not just spitting out the first one sentance cure they think of.
So there you have it. I am so strong that I can get mad and make the system better for the next person to call. There is a maeeting about this, changes and information to the way callers are handled. Screaming, crying, yelling, and even the normal feeling of anger can now be expressed by the suicidal!!! Yeah!!!
Jackie and I talked about the person who is too weak to even fight the crappy advice. Thos who would just accept "Think positive" with resignation and feel let down and give up. Giving up on a suicide hotline means death. Moms, dads, brothers, sisters, all family and friends suffer the loss to suicide of a loved one because the final straw comes from the hotline that is supposed to pull you away from the edge, not push you over, let the tears fall where they may.
Each of us can help save or, yes, with our dicisions and foucus on ourselves and our kids, help kill. Not phoning because you don't know what to say can kill. Dismissing as easily fixed can kill. Slogans and cliches can kill. Spending all your time with your kids can kill. Apathy can kill.
Death of another could have been the easy outcome of Jason and Sue's attitudes if it had been someone other than me. Someone more dispondant would not call back...would be reinforced that they were worthless and may then suicide.
If your actions can be seen in the happiness your actions contribute too, we can all see ourselves as good people. "I made the world better by giving to the food bank!! I am good!!!"
So then if we can see that we must, to be honest as honest can be, say also " I didn't call, go visit, invite over and (loved ones name here) might be alive if I cared enough to make some calls and a few visits."
You see if 2 or 3 or 4 people in your life DO first because they are well and caring people then the ill loved one feels safe and can move forward. The well do first to show the ill there is love in the world.
This is too much to ask 90% of the people you know. And probably you too.
So am I insulting you or informing you? Do I deserve your anger or thanks? Do you deserve to feel guilty about your help or proud? BE HONEST _ you expect it from the ill so do no less and save some lives my friends, save some lives around you.
Please?

It Keeps Getting Worse

So just got stiffed for 1000 dollars worth of work since Dec.24. My holiday was horrible. I was sick most of the time, crying, heavy anxiety, exhaustion, insomnia, stiffenning up from head to toe, in depression pain almost constantly.
Depression pain is all over. You just hurt. My muscles stiffen up, like right now this is hard to type. My neck is sore. This is with my medication with the extras I am allowed. My stress is burning through my pills like wild fire and I can't keep up. This is all temporary, but constant, related to the holidays and being ripped off for 1000 and no work to recover the lost funds. Happy holidays KC!
I am unable to leave my house for the most part these last 4 days. I had a nasty day yesterday and Glen came to sit with me last night. He comes 2 or 3 times a week to see me now that I am worse than I usually am.
You see I fight every day and sopme days, even occasionally 1 whole week I'll have no incidents at all. No attacks. The usual is 3 days at a stretch. Then something happens and , if everyone is there around me, and my dosage is my every day dose I react like a normal person. I get mad, I fell shit on and then....it goes away and I move on. I do live days like normal people and I am clinging to the face of the cliff until I can climb back up at this particular time. I am cracking up right now, being overwhelemed by my misfortunes, everyday pressures and battling my fucking brain for control. I am not this bad as a rule. I do better things go smoothly and I have some safety, some security, some support, I can get by on the small amount of love I have in my life.
Now, this moment in time when I can't make up 1000, have another 1000 coming and face eviction and the streets. I wonder how a normal would react? All mighty and able to make thier wants turn into reality! Go out in the world and show them all! Take the lickin' and keep on tickin'!!! Or so I imagine.
I am at the lowest functioning level I can be. I have suicidal thoughts. I long for death moreso. Suicide is exhaustionf to plan and carry out, I am too sick to kill myselfbecause my medication keeps me alive dispite my longing for death.
Sometimes when I have no hope left I just imagine being dead. No waking, no nights full of interupted sleep, sweating so much my bed and pillow, blanket are still wet 6 hours later. No terror of the day. No more crying, dispair, hopelessness, no more pain pain pain. I will think about just magically dying somehow and I smile. I feel relief for a minute or two, the relief of the idea that I won't fucking suffer anymore makes me, for a moment content. Death when longed for is comforting. That is so fucking backwards an not me. But there it is in me. Comfort and relief...my muscles are actually loosenning while I type this. Death would be welcome. Death has been welcome for a while. For about 4 years. It is more work than I can do, just being alive and , as the tears start to flow as I type, I just want to be happy.
Anyone know any rich, incredibly caring, lovely sweet woman to marry me and have a baby? Anyone? I could use being saved. The only way a human can be saved is by the love of another human. Well cats and dogs help, I'll admit! lol I am serious though. I could breath and feel secure knowing I wouldn't end up in a cardboard box. I will raise the child/children and be an excellent husband and father, if not a shitty earner for the most part. I can earn, but sporatically. No rich wonderful wanna baby beautiful chicks in my circle so I thought I'd ask!!! LMAO
Being saved. Being happy. Still being sick, but my old dosage and love. Security and kids. Such a stupid thought, being saved.I am not a pretty woman, so , my chances of being saved is pretty miniscule. Right now, as shakey as I am it becomes a stupid thought I'll keep because any crack of light is worth my life in this dark desert of blackness.
Tuesday, yesterday was so bad I had to call suicide prevention, but that is an amazing story that will make you look at our system of help we have for the mentally ill and suicidal services with appalled, wonder of the most horrific kind. Read the next one and see a life like a fucking bad movie! lol

I don't drink 14 years and counting...but

I haven't drank for 14 years. This holiday season, one night I had 4 drinks. A hot girl from the old days gave me her number and said call lets do something. Bartender, 33. Long story short I drank, I left when I realised she wants to do nothing but drink. So much for the hope of love springing out of thin air! LOL . I have had some drinks and I am afraid. I do not want to start drinking again. Somewhere inside me something has broken and I need to stop the break now. I am succeeding so far. To repeat my mantra, tough alone when you find a drink in your hand and you realise how far you have fallen is such a short time. Thoughts of my ex, her kids who I raised for 7 years must be instantly changed to anything ales. No love there. No daughter, no son, just a scorn for my ilness no matter how raging and painful it is to me. It is more satisfying for them to make me feel worthless by word and deed. I cannot think of 7 years. I try to think of the good times but the face of sadistic loathing screams at me, superimposed over every thought of my last relationship. Mom leads the way and surprise the kids follow.
I was a hero when it started. Every thing I did was for us all. I was committed. The 3 of them were off and on most of the time. I was in and out depending on who was disapointed in me. I was then not the partner in grief for misscarriages but the hated loser who was having a tough time making money.
The progress the family make from 4 people in a bach to 250 thousand dollar homeowners was none of my doing in any way according to them. My sickness was a convinient act and my pain fake and to be simply ignored. Rather than less pressure or support it was sink or swim every day.
I would sleep to give her time alone every day. She spent her time on the computer at home.
So when I try and turn these and a million other memories into something positive it is a huge struggle with the reward of.....I don't know.
I feel abused and hopeless, a loser and worthless from the people I trusted to take care of me as I did them.
The memories are tangled and make me cry so I just try and skip past 7 years in my head. Blank out. Close off that part for now because, alone, with everything else I have to deal with, I would end up in a cardboard box in 3 months.
I am double determined to not drink. It has reared it's head after so long without even being on the radar. Dealing with everything all at ones is too much , sick and alone....isn't that understandable? Like a slow cancer it continues to grow and shrink, but alone is it a surprise it grows?
So yell at me, get frustrated that I don't get cured after a suggestion or pepe talk. You see making a suggestion is as easy as pie. Watch.... " I suggest you never ever ever ever get angry with anyone who is sad and cries and it doesn't get better. Go to a workshop and learn about depression. Go study 50 books on it and learn about the torturous lives brave people are leading"
Why are you still reading this? Are you so eak minded you didn't jump up and do as I suggested? I tried man, I really tried to help you.
So, has anyone invited me over? Called? Taken me out, visited, made any time in thier lives to do something for me? Asking for an invite to your house is too much to ask of me. Besides, if you wanted to do something you would. You want to say something and feel better, I understand completely. But to be as honest about you as you ask me to be about me, letstell the truth. Saying and doing are so different they are the sun and the moon and as distant from all of us as both.
I am so depleted that I can't do much. You are so successful you can do anything. So the logic is you love me, admire me, will do anything, but words are all that ever happen.
No lunch dates as promised. Perhaps it is the sick guys duty to ask everyone. I would think the healthy would ask, but....
No Dinner, no meet my husband, these are my kids, no drink, no coffee.
But I can call and ask for your time to be rejected or accepted. I can invite myself over for tea to be accepted or rejected.
No visits to me, to hug the poor dear, show our support.
NO phone calls, though asked for I am flately refused by even the kindest of you all. Multiple times you all say "I am at work" and can't seem to call from home.
No I am an asshole for wanting that call? I am rejected a phone call when promised "anything" and I am an asshole for writing negatively about my experience? I am starting to feel insane from the interpretations everyone is putting on the word "anything"
A phone call is too hard so your advise seems so....self serving and hollow. Like people only want to say the right thing to make themselves feel like the did something good and , that goal being accomplished, people are certain they have given thier all so don't fucking question, let alone critisize the disconnect between words and deeds, because I become an ungrateful asshole.
So I am a loser again because I just won't listen. The truth is I am an asshole because I choose to think. I choose to believe offers of anything and think a phone call is sooooooooooooooooooooo simple, but instead it is too hard for most. Lunch is too hard for the healthy to take the sick they will do anything for. Dutch is fine by me!!!
A phone call, a visit, an invite to meet the wife and kids, all way too much for the healthy.
So if your life is too full to have me over for tea...I am supposed to cure myself alone, so get cracking.
Man, when I say I struggle alone, lets not augment that word alone with the typed words and no deeds to mean alone with awesome help from awesome friends.
2 peole alone will visit me, invite me, share air with me and they are Glen and Izzy.
I do not expect a single invite from this. I am an asshole after all for critising the quality of mercy I recieve, but wrds make equally usefull food to feed a family as words do to treat a friends depression. Don't waste your time on me, but what about your friends, family or co-worker who is spirallng through the depths of pain on thier way to an agonising death. Can you call them? Please call them....weekly. Invite them over...repeatedly and continually for years and years. Visit them as a regularly part of your busy already full and scheduled for your own needs life.... funny when you want to take a class you magically find time, but a dying friend with menal illness and death hunting them is not as important as learning to Salasa. No wonder people spiral down alone. TV shows become more important, hobbies, just about anything rather than deal with a person beyond words here and there.
If I drink I will hurt myself further so I have to devote energy to not thinking about drinking or drinking. I do my work. I work on my life. I find time to help Izzy and Glen too. I am always able to pull myself out of even a balling fit to help Glen because....I don't know why, but I can, and I am fucked.
I can call and visit and invite and have tea, coffee, lunch, dinner or drinks (red bull and ginger for me) so how come the perfect words of support offered are followed up with....nothing, no actions at all, not even a phone call?
If you can't do it, please at least have the courtesy to not expect me to cure myself of an incurable disease because you wrote a few sentances here and there. I din't invent the saying deeds speak louder than words so don't be pissed at me for pointing out the glaringly obvious. You have people around you who with a little time and trouble on an ongoing basis, can be helped by you making a real commitment to iad these people. Call often, visit often. Invite and pick up if neccessarry to you home often. Will it be a gas grom the get go??? No fucking way, but in a short time will this person feel wanted? Cared for? Important? Worthwhile? Worthy of love? Worthy of happiness? Grateful? Inspired? Energised? Happier??
YOU BET YOU FUCKING LIFE BABY!! yOUR KIDS WILL LEARM CARING AND KINDNESS, YOU WILL SMILE AND LUGH AND FEEL MORE LOVE FROM EVERY CORNER.
So, please re-think the whole words but no deeds form of help. It is a very isolating strategy doomed to make both you and the person you want to help feel ripped off.
You have the strength to do what your sick sister doesn't have the strength for, so visit and have over every 2 weeks. Change the priorities of your routine life dedicated to your kids, your spouse and you to include someone else, maybe eevn 2 people important enough to take the kids to visit!
Save a life, improve a life. Get off your ass like you want us sickies to do! Lead by example and make the world a place full of love, not isolation. Stop being a dog who eats dogs in a dog eat dog world and go eat lunch with a sickie!!!! Tastes way better than dog. So what are you waiting for, get off your ass an take a sickie to the mall for a Cinnebon!! lol
Many of you know me for my perspective and how positive and insightful I have always been, even at 6 years old!!! Many remember me facoing down bullies who were after other kids and you know I am not full of shit. Some have even relied on me at times for strength and guidance, love and encouragement and a belief in thier worth as a person. I am still the same and I beg you all to open your eyes to those you can help. You are not to blame for where you are right now because you haven't been informed, but now you are so from reading this forward, perhaps you will see your power to do good and use to to make the lives of those around you lost in the shadows, a better one to live. Love baby, love is the answer.

This all started with The Green Mile

You see in that movie there is a menatally ill wife of the boss. She is loved by her husband who is beside himself with worry. She is in bed (lazy), she says aweful things and is unfit for human company.
I am her in many ways and not her in even worse ways than depression and disthymia.
She is so loved by her husband that he wouldn't abandon her, so obvious as to never come up at all. Devotion in times of ilness is something I do not have. I am abandoned often, not helped.
John Cofey heals her, with the unasked for help of friends. They care for both the man and the ill woman enough to risk thier jobs for them. Nobody will risk even feeling bummed out for a 1/2 hour with me.
They did things for her benefit solely to help her, elaborate deeds one after the other because of thier own compassion. It propelled them to do. That is the truest test of a person...will they go somewhere and do something for you if they care. Duh...simple huh...but wait....do you know how hard it is to get someone to come over to your house?
Let alone....how do you get asked to thier house? You can't. If the offer to come to my house is never accepted and no invites to yours, should I see that as compassionate and supportive showing that you love me and will do anything to help? Don't I dare point out empty words or I won't even get that! Those friends will be offended and I am the asshole who gets ditched and worthy of anger. Funny how telling me what to do is so easy but to do something I ask is worthy of refusal and anger....no wonder I am not just cured from your advice...my fault again!
It is incredible how he basic human instinct if to give a few paragraphs of pep talks a few times then give up on anather person. It is how we all live and I myself have done it before in the distant past.
So when I say nobody will save me it is true fact, not opinionon. The fact is based on the past 30 years experience and I cannot know the future, who can, but to argue the future with me so you can feel your pep talk is a cure is sooooooooooooooooooo backwards. Why am I molifying you and your normal brain opinion instead of you molifying me and my sick brain fact? Do I really need to feed your ego while I am in the middle of a suicidal attack? If you can't see the millions of things wrong with this situation I cannot ever find words to get through to you.
This is what I face when I mention anything "negative" about my reality. It is so consistant I have begun to view the world as hostile in general....good for me and my healing......? If I hear one more, snort, see another set of rolling eyes when I say I feel shakey I'll pop. How much pain can a person take? How often can a person be made to feel like a loser for not getting cured after someone says "I have bad days too you know"? How many times should I show the true me if I get "loser" sent to me in waves with suggestions so obvious that I would have to be brain dead not depressed to have not tried and tried thes incredible suggestions. This is why The Green Mile made me cry and quake and dispair.
I have had so much pain added to my life for asking for help that to see help freely given made me see how far far away I was from any help at all. When someone gives me something nice I cry. I am so unused to it that I cary from the unexpected relief I get knowing I am worth something real to someone. Izyy and Glen helped me work when I was so shakey I could barely get out of bed. They happily came and worked with me....and I was so overwhelmed I cried 4 or 5 times at thier kindness. They are my John Cofey and can't cure me, but can make the pain go away and that is worth as much as a cure to me. I have been capable of work 5 days in the last 3 weeks. I am losing money from my own ilness and it adds to my stress, but I have no relief but the few moments at my house, Izzy's or Glens where we share space, not just words, spoken or typed. Ihave not been offered more my anyone else for so long I am numb to being a nothing for the most part. But sometimes, out of nowhere, even when enjoying a great film, in an instand the stark emptiness of my likfe is instantly slammed into my conscienceness and I am crying and in dispair in a nano second....no warning, nothing to hold the feeling from attacking it is so fast. I weep as they arrive in the prison truck. Mark, my roomate becomes uncomfortable at another weak display from me. The boss is pointing a shotgun at them to defend his wife and then himself and I know nobody will fight for me. The boss tries to stop John from touching his wife and I know nobody will love me that fircely, if ever at all. John cures her and I sob knowing I am stuck forever in the place from where she was just realeased. Husband and wife share a glorious embrace full of love the screen can't contain, and this acting scene has more real love than my real life and I dispair and cry harder. she thanks John and so does her husband with utter gratitude and I have nobody to share a simple thankyou with.
Nobody will love a MAN with a weak mind full of depression and disthymia, who is lazy and a loser because I refuse to get better from pep talks, screaming insults and loveless pain as a motivator.
So I watch the end of the movie as an act of will to prove to myself I have a tiny bit of strength and fight the world in my head wispering loser.
I won. I watched. I recovered...3 days later...(lazy aren't I) and I started to write this to see if it would do any good. So far...a little for me and more for others so I will continue, even though it takes me days to recover from the writing. People are sufferring and dying all around us and I somehow find strenth for that fight every day; to see if I can help someone dying in front of the world.

Judged by the quality of thier mercy

I didn't write that title, it is a quote. I am not the first and only one to say that a worthwhile person exhibits mercy. If you are mad at me, be mad at every volunteer too. I know you are deeply concerned about others and fairness first so don't forget all those others who give time or is it waste time?

Wow, 12th and I can finally be

So It has taken this long to recover. No shit. I have been struggling for a long time and, surprise suprise my recovery times are getting longer, not shorter. This also is better when I am not alone, have family, support and such. True for everyone isn't it, but you see there is the easiest way to dismiss my ilnesws in an instant. Is it so simple to ignore something if you ascribe it to everyone??? Try this mental exercise : A woman has cancer and is on her 5th relapse, getting chemo and can't get out of bed. She is having a hard time dealing with the illness and the treatment all alone. Her husband and his 2 kids left her (common law 6 years), her husband calling her a loser and a faker. Her family thinks that she isn't trying hard enough so they scream at her to get a job and she finally said I can't take the stress from your "help" and is alone because the support she should have all think thier opinions outweigh her reality. Her cancer keeps coming back again and again and she needs help all the time, endlessly. Her husband and family see her as a loser , faker, whiner and cannot stand to give her support when she is so obviously not doing anything to make her life better.
Got than picture? Now answer these simple questions : What is your opinion of her families treatment of her?
How would this effect her ability to fuction?
Her husband and children call her a drama queen for crying and actually scream "cry me a river" to her face so what is your opinion of the father and how would it effect her?
Is the 5th relapse more than enough reason to abandon her....she isn't getting better?
Would you argue with her about positive thinking?
If in 2 years she still couldn't get out of bed some days would she be lazy?
If she didn't take your advice to cheer up, think positive, get out and volunteer, get a job and exercise...how long until you would stop being her friend?
Do you see her a marriage material for your single friends?
Why is cancer an understandable situation, but when it is your brain not your body in peril of taking your life is so easily dismissed?

Which reminds me for those who said they wouldn't abandon me for writing this stuff I must tell the truth to them about the one who did.
The only person who has gone off my friends list because of this is my first love Barb Zaseybida. She is actually typical of my ex, my family and some friends who think thier opinion trumps reality. These people somehow see sympathy as something vile. I am just guessing of course, like she would give a reason. Good riddence, but so disappointing and kind of ugly if you ask me. I am sure her real live friends think she is amazing but I have changed my opinion of her from strong woman with good family to self centered, heartless narcissist whose infallible opinion trumps reality and throws humans away like tissue. The world is a sadder place while the successful laugh and live. I encounter these types more often than not. They are successful and have overcome advercity of some sort, but have cars and houses....to these people the idea of sympathy and support is only for those who are.....worthy? I am guessing at the reasons...they never tell you the whole ugly truth of thier opinions, but I know this woman from over the years and she is typical. Like my brothers and sister who robbed and make me 10 times sicker with thier "help" which is basically...."Suck it up"
Now if our cancer patient was worthy of some human emotion, even though she is completely imaginary, why is a mentally ill man who is in almost identical circumstances viewed the exact opposite by thje large majority of people in general, including friends, family husbands and kids?
As a person who has recieved the quality of others kindness, caring, compassion and support I know first hand how a simple thought like "everyone feels sad sometimes" or "you aren't the only one" are somehow "cures" that I am willfully refusing to follow or I am to weak minded to do and a waste of thier time and energy.
To Barb I am a loser. Simple. To most I am a loser. Now you who try and tell me I am not......guess what...I know!!! LOL
So does knowing mean doing? Feeling? Being? Ask anyone who needs to loose 5 pounds or more that knowing is far far far from doing. Should everyone who is 5 or more pounds overweight be ditched as weak minded or obstanant? Lazy or not worth time or energy? A loser? If they don't lose weight are they being too much of an asshole to be a facebook friend with? If you are successful should you ditch your "fat" friends? How about your fat family? Throw out your wife or husband?
Funny how we forgive ourselves for anything and others for nothing sometimes. Those of you who stick with me in spite of my brain cancer can actually feel compassion, understanding and have humanity to make the world a cooler place.
Since I have started this I have lost one so called friend. On the other hand.....one friend has told me of an attempted suicide, others about family and friends who suffer. My elementary school friends, just some of the women, have rallied and understand and have made me stronger...no yelling or arguing about "think positive". My old lost and found Pete and my constant rock and only real family, Glen are the only men to say a word.
The idea of this whole blog is stated in my first entry and easily forgotten...but not by me. Help others. To help others I need you all to face up to your own reactions to me and others around you...the black sheep brother, the sad sister, the 40 lost jobs friend... teens, kids, co workers who are considered by the world in general as a waste of time and energy, mothers and fathers who cry, or even yourself.
How can you read this and be angry with me? How can you watch a sister cry and be sad and just say "I told you to get a job" and wash your hands of her? How can you treat pain and suffering as a simple case of "suck it up"? Why is your friend a waste of time? Why does that sad teen piss you off?

Why, just because YOU overcame your NON DISEASE obsticales should EVERYBODY be judged against your OBVIOUS GREATNESS??? Being narcissistic to the point of causing pain and heartache, contributing to misery and suicide of friends and family alike diesn't seem so successful to me. Barb now seems very ugly, although, oddly, I'll love her somehow forever, and I forgive her and the rest of the 90% of those who think themselves so wonderful that I am too toxic for thier lives, even on facebook. Who wants to spend time with losers? Nobody phones losers, invites them for coffee, a party, dinner or a movie. Losers see pictures of thier successful frineds surrounding themsleves with only "positive" energy and see that they don't fit the happy mold and are an afterthough to thier friends successful, wonderful happy lives. Losers get words and not deeds. Losers fend for themselves like everyone else and get no special treatment, and actually get worse treatment because of thier willfull disreguard of your amazingly easy to impliment advice. I mean you lost your last 5 pounds like that didn't you? Well, you forgive yourself for that, but not the loser.
So.....how many losers do you know? How many undiagnosed people with depression do you know? Is it your dad who just frowns and stares? Your brother who drinks and can't keep a job? Your mom who is mad all the time (a symptom of depression)? Your son or daughter who had been like that since she was 6? Or maybe it is starting now....maybe it has just begun for someone and they work with you. Maybe it is you.
Do you feel like a loser? Do you clench your teeth? Do you have muscle tension that never seems to go away? Are you feeling hopeless? Do you cry every week? Every day? Are you isolated? Lonely like being crushed by an invisible hand? Lost your sence of humor? Laugh rarely? Can't get out of your head? Extremely hard on yourself...like everyone else is? Hate your life sometimes? Can't get out of bed? Hard time brushing your teath or showering? Lazy? Unmotivated? Frightened? Nervous? Panic close at hand? Overwhelemed all the time? On your last nerve? Suicidal? Can't feel love? Stay happy for 5 minutes instead of 5 hours? Just plain coo coo?

SEE YOUR FUCKING DOCTOR NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
TAKE YOUR FRIEND OR FAMILY TO THE DOCTOR NOW!!!!!!!!!!!

Although they will never see it this way because they have problems with saying sorry, of making amends, the narcissism is too strong or the perfectyion to evident, I wish those who are so typical could see how thier instant dismissals are part of the biggest problem we have on this planet. Humanity isn't words, but deeds...to friends and family, coworkers and even strangers.
No I am ready to admit that I am not a loser most of the time in my own eyes. Barb, my family, my ex and most of the world show and tell me I am a loser by thier words and deeds. I am treated like a loser when I go dance with friends who make"icky you" faces every single time to the rest of the dancers when I come to say hi. Everyone else gets smiles. Not me, even though I am smiling. No invites. Not in years from most. Words not deeds. I go places alone always because everyone else has important things to do. How dare I name names and highlight ongoing behaviour when anger, not shame or mia culpa is the only reaction I'll get? I am a loser!!!! Ask those who are pissed off that thier behaviour could be questioned. Ask those tho are angry or hurt by my comments. Ask those who won't take time or trouble and offer empty words if I am a loser and they will say no....butthan again, who ever admits their opinion is wrong? It seems like someone all grown up would see things in a more sophisticated, realistic way, but they just keep thier opinion and move on. Your life or death is easily dismissed because........you tell me...I am not like that.
So what do I expect will happen after this is posted? Most won't read it. Those who do will see thier own attitude or opinion critisised and shown for distructive and they will just...dismiss it and things will go on as always. Some will point out that that do what they can and get even madder if you say that it is the barest of minimums. But I hope some will actually re-examine thier reactions, feeling and motives...but those are the ones who would do that anyway. If Barb reads this she will hate me I am sure for MY making her look bad, but you see...I only repeated the facts and those who look bad look bad for the reason of thier own making. If you are so proud of who you are then post your replies to my evil accusations here, not in a private message on facebook....but that would be a change right there and you won't do anything anyone asks anyways!
The point is to make you see with new eyes, even though the information comes from a loser. Or can we both finally agree that illness does not a loser make...it may even make that sad sack lazy ass loser appear as a brave lone warrior fighting death alone everyday.
Probably not.

Sexism!!!

Basically, as you can guess that traditional gender roles still have the same sway today as they ever did. I am a man and have shoulders and I am positive and funny, sweet and competant....at my very best, when I am supported, earning money, socialising, basically having a family and friends.
I have no family. I am alone and socialising is not much fun alone, pretty simple. I am struggling so romance is off the table, nobody likes a cry baby and friends have begun to delete me already.
Taboo telling the truth and being exactly who you are. It is amazing how much instant rejection there is to my tale of woe. Like nobody can link understanding and sympathy, but they hate pity.
I will skip ahead intime to a tiny slice of about 2 to 3 years ago.
7 misscarriages. I want kids more than anything and 7 misscarriages.
Now the woman in this scenario is my ex and I bet you thought of her as well. Good for you, it is a couple thing for sure.
I am completeley devistated and have no hope for a child now, my illness exaserbated by way more than 7 children I won't ever have, but don't you think that is enough for any woman or MAN to endure?
Suck it up buttercup is heartless and cruel, a convinient way to instantly divorce yourself from examining your own biases and sexism, and disappearing with self satisfied certaiunty that you are a good person and won't pity anyone.
Typical and sooooooooo (deep breath) oooooooo. Those who disappear prove to be the most heartless of all. I think if your reaction is anything but symothy and understanding you are a bigger loser than me. Delete me, disappear. Rita and Michelle and Dal, so many can actually care, show it and give sympathy and support. Proof I say of genunie humanity.
Now we can save those around us suffering, woman or man from depression if we once and for all abandon this every man for himself attitude. Around us all are those heading for an early grave who could use a diaganosis and some help. Suck it uyp butter cup is so heartless that those who ascribe it it as a solution are actively making this world a hell. If this is your attitude never bitch about Bush, Cheney, Iraq or anything else that heartless people do because there is an equality of damage that exists.
Would you yell at a woman who lost 7 babies? Call her a loser for crying 2 years later? Many do that to me and I an near the end of my rope with these inhumans who can only muster scorn instead of sympathy.If I had no legs would you yell at me to run?
If I had 1 lung would you yell at me to run?
If I had a fused spine would you yell at me to run?
Then why is it so hard to undestand that yelling at a depressed person to "get over it " is EXACTLY THE SAME CRUELTY AS YELLING, SCREAMING, CALLING DOWN, SCREAMING LOSER AND THEN DITCHING A 1 LEGGED MAN FOR NOT RUNNING.
Get it? Got it? Good!

Meanwhile back In Ogden

From 5 till 11 years old was a cool time and scarey on the streets. I loved school, to learn, read be aound people was awesome. My friends Jack Cooney and Bill Firmston were my saviours to be able to give and recieve support. So all, as always, is never all dark...but on the streets...
For those who know we all remeber the free for all fighting and victimizing that our hood was famous for was all true. My block had the back alley as the safest place because the catolic bullies were on 21 st and the public school bullies, of which there were more of or so it seemed, were on 21 A ST. Nowhere to run or hide at times.
It was shitty at school for this bullying thing at school too. Lots of tough guys and girls looking for victims. I stopped a bunch of beatdowns during those days and was becoming a bit of a peacenic. Maybe if any of you remember some of this stuff you could tell a story or two.

Screams in the Dark

I don't sleep well. I can't remeber ever sleeping well. I was moved into the far end of the basement to share a room with the twins. They are 7 years older than me and, as is custom, found it fun to torment me so when I was 5 and they were 12 the fun thing was to make me scream in the dark. I was afraid of the dark at 5 and had to walk the length of my entire base,ent to the the bedroom in the back. My basement was scarey, unfinished in all the common points and the furnace was the last thing I passed before my room.
I tried to be brave. To walk not run and on those nights when I wasn't plunged suddenly into darkness. The switches for the lights in the basement were both upstairs and down and the twins would turn off the lights and make me go in darkness to the bedroom and turn on the lights in there as my reward. They laughed and laughed at my pain.
I hated bedtime and what it held because, in my room there was a box in the ceiling for the furnace return. It was panelled and had 1/4 round and was the size of a coffin. Beneath notice for an adult, a way to m,ake the ugly furnace return look nice and finish the room. My brothers had me convinced it was where the monsters lived, led by vampires. Can you guess what my 5 year old mind had as the ultimate terror? You are brilliant, it is Vampires!
Best of all my bed was under this box. I slept under a coffin full of vamipires and monsters. My reward for making it alive to my room was to lay in the light terrified under the coffin and ....sleep.
Most nights I screamed. Sometimes the terror would come when I looked up at the coffin. I tried to be brave but I screamed and cried until I was hoarse and exhausted because the fear was constant. Imagine 2 hours of terror without letup....each night...or longer...hurts to even imagine.
I tried to listen to the radio, but it was across the room and I couldn't get out of bed. I would quake and scream and cry until someone herad me. It was never my mom or dad. They were in the living room and you could only hear me from the back door landing, my screams absorbed by distance and television and covered by the twins laughs. From my dad and moms perspective, now that I look back, I was in bed and the twins were happy and laughing. All was well.
I finally got a room upstairs when I was about 11, 6 years of terrifying sleeplessness and the same year as my dad died.
I love the dark now and Vampires don't scare me but I can't sleep. I wake and sweat and turn and toss and start. I don't sleep my 2 cycles of 4 hours and I feel grateful if I get 4 straight hours. I am exhausted from fighting to be positive and no sleep for 39 years. Fear and terror and death makes for bad sleep.
I am insecure and tired. I am afraid by myself with nobody to love me. I sleep when I can. I miss work to sleep because I have too, not because I am weak minded. I am this way for reasons as real as death. Sleep is an escape rarely and I feel refreshed, like a normal person, maybe 20 days out of 365.
Alone I am worse. Who can live without love? I can't it seems.
So who would want me this way? I have just begun...wait untill I get the miscarriages and hateful abuse from my ex...you will see I am not lucky like Barb or Vicky or Laura who has family and is strong, independant and can be alone and be happy. I am better with support. Better with love. Better with family. I am in rough shape alone so the question becomes the same as before.
Who would want me in this way? Who would be sympathetic and not, in 5 years say "I can't take this, your earning nothing, sleeping" Suck it up butter cup is the help many can muster and it is no help to me. I am sick. I cannot be cured, but everyone thinks if they yell, isolate, abandon, pep talk or tough love me I'll be better. I am not a bd child or weak minded. I am ill.
So I am a loser to those who cannot imagine a guy with as many great things going for him can be that sick. Most women would find me aweful and not relationship material because 10 years from now I'll still be sick.
Ask yourself this...would you date a person like me, man or wonam....ooooo that brings to mind the incredible sexism I face as mentally ill and male. We are not allowed to be weak indefinately unless we are limbless, but women have feelings and it is understandable after what her ex called her. That kinda thoughtless sexism is killing me too, but that will be next. Lucky you eh? LOL

Why bother wasting your time on me?

I am dying from a disease. It is real and painful, robbing me of life, love, happiness, security and any other thing you can think of that is good for a human to be able to give and recieve. You may want to deny my reality and replace it with your experiences and "talk" me into remission. You may just roll your eyes and think "pity party" or have a simple suggestion that you think I am ignoring willfully. You might "not believe" in medication. If you feel any of these or other opposing perspectives don't just bail on this blog because a friends life will depend on your understanding what is written here. Life and death as real as the air you breathe for someone close to you. I not talking about me but your friends and family, a brother or sister, aunt or friend. Please waste some time here on purpose and quickly you will see the world in a more realistic and caring way and save someones life. Maybe more than one person once you know what is really happenning to those around us as we live our lives. Some of us are dying swiftly and surely.

Many of you have known me through the years and have seen me at my best and worst. At my best I seem unstopable, charismatic, hilarious, loving, attentive, wise and loving. Many of you remember me this way and that makes me feel wonderful. Facebook is awesome for elementary school mates who love me still and I thank them and others who keep me alive. Others have seen me at my worst when I rage, scream, yell, cry, dispair, collapse, panic, exhaust, long for death, drink and smoke and say cruel and hurtful things that crush. I am remembered as a loser and dink by some and I can't add certain friends because I know they think I am a loser.

I am a loser. They are right. I am unfit for love. I am unfit to have a wife and child. I am unfit for happiness and humans in general. I will never find love. Never have a child. Never be safe. Never be secure. Never be happy because , according to the world I am a loser extrodinaire, an anchor or toxic. I agree now with everyone who holds this opinion because I cannot fight the truth about me.

I have depression. I have disthymia. I have clinical, longterm depression that is killing me. I have had 2 lifetimes of pain in 1/2 a life and I am starting on my third lifetime of pain.

My dad had his first heart attck when I was 3 months old. Every moment of every day from then on was a death watch. My entire early childhood was filled with death at any second. My dad died when I was 11, some of you remember that at school. I seemed very at peace with my dads death. Years later I learned that death as a companion can hurt a small child in deep ways. My Doctor, Dr. Patricia Bryden would add "duh!" to make me smile. For those who were there I was appearently depressed with clinical depression from kindergarden until I broke down at 30. I'll save that for later and give you a taste of my ironic life of pain... I quit drinking at 30 and had a complete breakdown as my reward! I can still laugh now and again.

So lets start by thinking for at least 10 seconds about a child living with death. I will talk about isolation, bullying, family seperation and school later but I want you to really put yourself in the shoes of a grade 2 kid.

By grade 2 my dad was in and out of the hospital. I would have him at some times when he was really sick and couldn't work. It was great to have him, but he was so sick and looked worse and worse and I felt guilty that I should be happy to have him, that as his heart was killing him I was benefitting from his pain, his death.

I would cook for him. I loved my dad so much it still hurts to type this. He would be too weak to flush the toilet and I would see his pee the toilet, a dark orange and I knew death was there in the room. do you know how often, from 5 to 11 years old I saw dark orange pee? About 100 times over the years and each bowl was the evidence of death, I just knew. Later on, you know me, Mr. Inquisitive, I learned that I was right about the pee, it was caused by dead red blood cells. He was peeing out evidence of death. To this very day I look at toilet bowls with a little dread.

He had 7 or so heart attacks and a similar amount of heart failures. To cut to the chase I came home on warm august day and my dad looked the worst I had ever seen him. He had been getting worse and today he looked like death. The house was empty, mom at work and the brothers all out having summer fun when I went into his and mom's bedroom.

He was white as a sheet, his face screwed up with pain and dispair. He was in a lot of pain and could brely breathe. I turned on the oxygen and put it on his face. He couldn't lift his head when I put it on and I got very scared. My dad couldn't move and I knew he was really bad so I called my brother the fireman.

He came and dad wouldn't let him take him , but after 10 minutes or so he was too weak to stop him. Pat carried my dad out like a little girl. he was tiny and white and in so much pain, his eyes saw nothing of me as they went through the front door. The screen door did that slow close and I never saw my dad again. I sent him to the hospital ,which he hated, to die. I rmember standing alone in that big house and crying, shaking and screaming in terror because death had my dad for sure. A few days later or a week, time is fuzzy, I was at my aunts when she got the call he died. She said "K.C. your father has died" and all I said was "oh". I was watching the Grape Ape Cartoon and I sat in the sunbeam and just watched tv. I was expecting it so I was ok, I told myself.

So do you think this first 11 years could cause early childhood depression?I rmeber life as a tiring struggle full of fear and terror, my brothers and the hood come into play to, but this is a book already so later, but I want to let you know that my being a loser and unfit for love, marriage and children was not a decision but, just like my father, a sickness that doesn't ever ever ever ever go away. I am exhausted and so tense my neck is aching (a physical symptom of my lovely illness).

So who wants to get married and have my kid? LOL. So this is just the warmup, the childhood portion open for exploration so you all can understand this is a real thing. I am medicated. 14 years medicated and it keeps me alive, but just. So as potential "mate for life" how do I look so far? See you wanted to say I am not a loser, but I can't earn money very well. That alone is enough to make every woman run, but add I am mentally ill and incurable and an crazy enough to still want a baby...well you can see why I agree witha ll the negative things ever said about me. It is true... unfit for love, family or happiness because I am a 1/2 looking for the other 1/2 in a world of women who see 1/2 as....well 1/2!! LOL I am 1/2 a man with 1/2 prospects and a complete loser because of it.

I am sending this to potential dates too because I have no other choice but to be truthful. Anyone who loves me gets a loser, and anchor, a sick man who will never be cured. Waste of money first of all, waste of time because 10 years from now he will still have some super shitty days being all terminally ill and women don't want that. Nor to make a child with that. Give up total freedom and being alone to do what you want when you want too for a loser like KC? Not on your life!

It takes away my last energy and hopes. Who am I kidding...I am a loser. I can't fight or educate everyone every time to understand I am not weak minded, self indulgent, lazy, or a loser because all the evidence points to it being true. I am accepting my death from lonliness and pain. My third lifetime of pain started the new year and I need to sleep (lazy). More to come when I can type again.