What Is It About Kansas?

I may alienate some with this post, as I know there are several regular readers that hail from Kansas. Kansas has a lot to offer - Lawrence is a little cultural mecca in the Heartland. And Kansas City (partially in Kansas) brought us some of the world's greatest jazz and barbecue. Count Basie hit his stride in KC. But the intolerance that oozes out of Kansas is mind-boggling.

Families Seek Legislative Remedies From Funeral Protesters

The Kansas-based church, which believes God is punishing America for its tolerance of homosexuality by sending home U.S. soldiers "in body bags," chose as one of its most recent demonstration sites the funeral of Army Staff Sgt. Lance Chase, 32, father of two sons, who died from a roadside bomb while on duty in Iraq on Jan. 23. On Sunday, Westboro's adherents traveled to Yankton, S.D., to the memorial service for 21-year-old Army National Guard Spc. Allen D. Kokesh, Jr.

These people are demonstrating at and disrupting funerals of fallen soldiers.

... signs held by members that Feb. 2 were dutifully noted ...: "Steve held 'Thank God for Dead Soldiers,' 'You're Going to Hell' and 'Fags Doom Nations' while Shirl held 'America is Doomed,' 'God is America's Terror' and 'Don't Worship the Dead' with a flag tied around her waist."

There's more:

Westboro Baptist Church, an independent congregation of about 75 people, has been picketing in the Kansas area for years, often choosing memorial services for AIDS victims. But the group has recently made national headlines by traveling to places like Oklahoma and Tennessee, bringing their anti-gay rhetoric to the memorials for soldiers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Congregation members also picketed outside of the funerals for the 12 West Virginia miners who perished after a mine explosion in January.

Asked what the church expected to accomplish by upsetting grieving families, Phelps explained they are on a mission, and that it is their right to be there.

"We are delivering a message. God is punishing this nation and he is using the IED as his weapon of choice," she said, referring to the improvised explosive devices that have killed many of the U.S. soldiers stationed in Iraq since 2003. At least 2,255 American military personnel have died in Iraq since the war began.

Un-freakin-believable.

But how to stop it? Legislation? That tramples on the first amendment, doesn't it?

... lawmakers like Schodorf of Kansas, state Sen. Mike Friend of Nebraska and others say they will work with constitutional experts to ensure any laws they draft will withstand a legal challenge from the group.

"I believe it's constitutional," said Schodorf, who said her proposal to keep protesters 300 feet from any funeral or memorial service would supplement an existing statute that bans protests an hour before and two hours after these events.

Schodorf said a constitutional attorney will be guiding the process, and Gov. Kathleen Sebelius has promised to sign the bill once it passes the Legislature.

"We're having trouble finding the balance but we think we can do it," said Friend, regarding the Nebraska proposal, which is still being molded to fit constitutional concerns.

"We're trying to keep the people who are mourning from being subjected to this stuff, and prevent any potential violence that could break out," he said.

Ed Yohnka of the American Civil Liberties Union in Illinois, another state considering a restriction on funeral picketing, said his organization wants to work with legislators to ensure their measures don't cross the fine line between constructive regulation and violations of free speech.

"We're talking to legislators and governors. While their aims are good and may be viewed as compassionate and perfectly appropriate for many reasons, how do we get there in terms of being constitutional" is the challenge, he added.

What rock to these people crawl out from under to disrupt the funeral of someone's child? A fallen soldier? No matter how a person feels about the war, or gays, or anything else, these actions are miles beyond ANY definition of indecency.

Basket Case

I'm a basket case today. I'm sitting here with the "jimmy legs" big time. I'm full of nervous energy. And I do mean nervous. My nervous tics are back with a vengeance. My 7 year old said to me yesterday "Daddy! You can wiggle your ears!" And I wasn't trying to do that. My face is tense, my body is tense, and I have no real reason to feel this way. I'm wondering if a muscle relaxant, or something similar, might help this.

Karen's mother is living with us now, and Karen and I have butted heads about this several times. She says I've been a real asshole lately, and to get used to it, because her mom isn't going anywhere. I'm trying to adjust, and it's been much more difficult than I ever antipated. We have newspapers all over the house, dishes all over, dirty tissues dropped everywhere, and so forth. Also, her walker is too wide to fit through the main bathroom door and she has to use the bathroom in our room. Karen set up a portable stool in her bedroom, but that's the most disgusting thought I've ever encountered, to think she's sitting in her own bedroom letting loose. And who's cleaning up that portable stool? I guarantee my wife is. She wouldn't tell me about it, knowing I'd be upset. They moved our TV and surround sound system from our rec room to the upstairs living room, just stacked the stuff around, and pulled the chairs and couch close to the TV. We have a huge living room with all the furniture pulled to one side, and a surround sound system with all the speakers in one pile. I am so pissed about this I can't begin to express it. I try to express my feelings and am informed that I'm a jerk for not being supportive. So I try to suck it in, not say anything, and let things continue as they are. My wife would go through the rest of her life living "temporarily" like this. It just drives me fricking CRAZY. I told her that at the bare minimum we need an entertainment center for the upstairs, and another TV for down, but I doubt we'll get either. Instead, we have a TV sitting on a small bookshelf, and a sound system piled on top of itself. It sucks.

Is my irritation showing? I try to express this at home, and I'm called an ungrateful prick. I don't mind her being around, I really don't. I just don't think we should have to settle for such a drastic quality of life change for this reason. I think my wife should stand up for things more, and insist her mom pay for the necessary changes we have to make. I certainly can't say it, my opinion doesn't count here. I do know that things have to change. I can't take this forever.

That's likely one component of my anxiety, maybe ALL of my anxiety. More to discuss, but that needs to come later.

Added:

I appreciate the comments. I feel guilty for having these feelings. I've always known my mother in law would move in with us at some point, so I really don't mind having her here. She's been very good to us over the years, financially and otherwise. My wife is doing all the work caring for her, and I don't like that either. If all her time and energy is spent caring for her mother, our time is going to suffer. There's a lot of frustration right now with both of us, and mine spilled out into my blog. I wonder where my wife's is going? She tore into me the other day, there's ONE place it's going...

Dragging Ass

Dragging ass like a motherfucker. Big time blocked, too. I'm down, I'm slow, I couldn't put two meaningful words together right now to save my life. And if it's not obvious, I'm not getting around to visit and comment other blogs. Sorry, all.

And a full moon, too. Go figure.

Concentration Issues

Lately it's been more and more difficult to concentrate. I've always suspected I'm somewhat ADD, but often think I'm somewhat martian, too. This week has been particularly difficult. I do my best work in the late afternoon / evening, which means after the work day is essentially done. Remember the line from Office Space? "I'd say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work." It seems that way for me sometimes.

I suppose one reason is my job isn't holding my attention any more. Or is that merely a justification? I truly love to program, to sit down, block out the world, and allow my mind the luxury of unrestrained, logical, thought. It's wonderful. But these days that luxury is long gone. I'd say in a given week, I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, programming. I tell my team in India how they should program, test their programs (I HATE testing), and spend the majority of my time cleaning up issues caused by my colleagues overseas. Not that I'm complaining, my job still exists because I'm needed to handle those exact issues.

But where was I going with this? Oh yeah, concentration. (Slap myself on the forehead).

I've applied for an internal posting. Not coding, unfortunately. It's time for me to grow professionally, and step out of that comfortable box. This will be a sink-or-swim venture. I'll succeed, and move up quickly, or I'll sink like a stone and drown. It's as a single point of contact in a technical capacity. I would coordinate all technical operations - between the client and the call centers, including call routing and phone issues, between the client and sales, between the client and development, and so forth. Project management, product management, and client management. It sounds like a bitch, but it also sounds like something a bipolar personality could really sink their teeth into, doesn't it? It's sounding like a 75% chance I'll nab this one. Be that good or bad...

Another way my concentration is failing - right now I should be working on a program for a web site I'm building. I looked forward to it all day at work, and I get home and can't do it. That's life in my world.

Enough me-me-me. It's helpful, but must be incredibly boring for everyone else. I promise to try harder...

Bill Maher's Rules For 2006

By now you've probably all received this by email from people you haven't talked to in person for years. I received it from my brother, and it was credited to George Carlin. These days if I receive ANYTHING credited to George Carlin, I jump immediately to Snopes to check it out. Ditto Ted Nugent. Ditto General Norman Schwartzkopf. Ditto Ollie North. Ditto Rush. No, scratch Rush. NOTHING he says surprises me anymore, and I really don't care enough to spend the time researching something he might have said. But anyway.

A little disclaimer. Because I might think this is funny doesn't mean I necessarily agree with it, but it also doesn't mean I don't. I have a very active and sick sense of humor, and exercise it whenever I can.

Updated Rules for 2006:

New Rule:
Stop giving me that pop-up ad for classmates.com! There's a reason you don't talk to people for 25 years. Because you don't particularly like them! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days: mowing my lawn.

New Rule:
Don't eat anything that's served to you out a window unless you're a seagull. People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of Wendy's chili. Hey, it cost less than a dollar. What did you expect it to contain? Trout?

New Rule:
Stop saying that teenage boys who have sex with their hot, blonde teachers are permanently damaged. I have a better description for these kids: lucky bastards.

New Rule:
If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you're a dope. If you're a kid, the cards are keepsakes of your idols. If you're a grown man, they're pictures of men.

New Rule:
Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your eyebrows: do you have two of them? Okay, we're done.

New Rule:
There's no such thing as flavored water. There's a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket, water, but without that watery taste. Sorry, but flavored water is called a soft drink. You want flavored water? Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt. That's your flavored water.

New Rule:
Stop messing with old people. Target is introducing a redesigned pill bottle that's square, with a bigger label. And the top is now the bottom. And by the time grandpa figures out how to open it, his ass will be in the morgue. Congratulations, Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.

New Rule:
The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the ass hole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a "decaf grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one NutraSweet," ooh, you're a huge ass hole.

New Rule:
I'm not the cashier! By the time I look up from sliding my card, entering my PIN number, pressing Enter," verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don't want cash back, and pressing "Enter" again, the kid who is supposed to be ringing me up is standing there eating my Almond Joy.

New Rule:
Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack of your butt. And it translates to "beef with broccoli." The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're just high.

New Rule:
Competitive eating isn't a sport. It's one of the seven deadly sins. ESPN recently televised the US Open of Competitive Eating, because watching those athletes at the poker table was just too damned exciting. What's next, competitive farting? Oh wait. They're already doing that. It's called "The Howard Stern Show."

New Rule:
I don't need a bigger mega M&M. If I'm extra hungry for M&Ms, I'll go nuts and eat two.

New Rule:
If you're going to insist on making movies based on crappy, old television shows, then you have to give everyone in the Cineplex a remote so we can see what's playing on the other screens. Let's remember the reason something was a television show in the first place is that the idea wasn't good enough to be a movie.

New Rule:
No more gift registries. You know, it used to be just for weddings. Now it's for babies and new homes and graduations from rehab. Picking out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn't gift giving, it's the white people version of looting.

New Rule:
When I ask how old your toddler is, I don't need to know in months. "27 Months." "He's two," will do just fine. He's not a cheese. And I didn't really care in the first place.

Girl Scout Cookies

This has nothing to do with bipolar, but it's on my mind.

The grade school my girls attend is in a nice neighborhood, but it's a 1960s neighborhood. This means it's in the first transition. Back in the 60s and 70s, there were kids EVERYWHERE. Now, there are still many original home owners, and not nearly as many kids. Younger couples are buying newer houses in suburbs rather than in established neighborhoods. The neighborhood school is suffering from declining enrollment as a result. So our school district has made our neighborhood school a "school of international studies" and a "magnet school". The school district provides free transportation from lower income neighborhoods to students who choose to attend this school. It's a great way to help attain necessary integration. This is VERY cool, as it gives my girls the opportunity for a diverse educational experience.

My wife is a girl scout leader, both for my youngest daughter's Brownie troop, and my older daughter's Girl Scout troop. And of course, it's cookie time. The people in her troops are a diverse mix just like the school. Once again, very cool. But cookie time brings problems. Last year we had a young mother whose daughter sold several hundred dollars worth of cookies. The money disappeared. The young scout's mother died 2 days later from an overdose. It was tragic. The grandmother stepped in and made up the shortage, but she worked at Walmart and didn't have an extra $200 plus to spare. Along with that, she now had the extra burden of raising the young girl. A local business owner heard the story, stepped in, and paid the shortage. It was a very classy thing for him to do, and I respect him greatly for it. The girl is still involved in the scout troop, and loves it.

This year, we have another problem. Not to the magnitude of last year's, thank goodness. But we have a mother, always red-eyed, and always with shaking hands. She is a self-admitted meth addict. My wife is not able to collect money from her for their cookie sales. She's being pleasant, calling with reminders such as "we'll have someone home all day today if you want to drop off the money, or let me know if it would be more convenient for me to pick it up". Today, the mother's phone was disconnected. Luckily, it's not a lot of money, less than $100. My family or the troop will make it up, but you can't just let it go. That money is important to the troop, my wife's troops pay the girl's yearly fees out of cookie money as some of the parents just can't handle an extra $20 fee.

So they're left with a problem. Do they kick the girl out of scouts? That wouldn't be right, her home situation is obviously difficult, and the scouts could be a huge positive influence on her. You hate to make the girl pay for her mother's problems. And you don't want the girl to be uncomfortable around the others, so you try very hard to shelter the youngster from the situation. But the mother needs to know this can't be tolerated. The scouts will take legal action if necessary, but my wife won't turn her in. She'll cover it instead. We'll ask for payments, and may get one or two, but won't get them all. At least it's not enough money to bring about another OD.

Thinking about this, we're pretty damn fortunate. This is our biggest worry today, and we're not in a position where we are on the opposite side of this issue. I just wish everyone was so lucky.

Formatting Issues?

Real quick post here.

I would appreciate knowing if the picture I have displayed in my prevous post is throwing off my blog's formatting for any of you. If you notice that my links have slid down to the bottom, or there are other formatting issues, please take a moment and leave a comment to this post. I can resize the image if that's the case.

Thanks!

Tagged

I started at the bottom of my list tonight, and see that Jil at Wild Abandon tagged me for the desktop screenprint. I don't usually participate in these, call me a stick-in-the-mud, but I am enjoying seeing everyone's desktop. So I will share also. Mine is a "Google Maps" aerial photo of my neighborhood. My girl's grade school is at the bottom of the picture, and my boy's high school is just off the picture to the upper left. I marked our house for the girls so they could recognize where everthing was. It's been fun for them to look at this.



Back for more later...

Lunch Today

Since I so rarely see Kyle (21 year old bipolar son) at home anymore, I make a point to see him at lunch from time to time. He works at a restaurant about 2 blocks away from my office, so I walk over every 2 weeks or so. It makes me feel good to see him and shake his hand (I'd hug him if he'd let me). It's such a success story for him. He doesn't see it that way, he EXPECTS to have a job, and expects it to come as easily as it does for the rest of our family. Of course, nothing about Kyle getting and holding a job comes easily. But he looks so confident when I see him there, and it's obvious he's proud for me to see him there.

It's just one of those things, those successes that bring tears to the eyes of a parent. Success is relative to the person, and I'm every bit as proud of Kyle as I would be of my oldest landing his dream job at Rolling Stone or FHM, or my youngest meeting his goal of graduating from tech school.

NAMI Meeting

The wife and I went to another NAMI (National Alliance for the Mentally Ill meeting last night. I always leave those meetings feeling optimistic and thankful. We sat in the "loved ones" support group, and after seeing what some of these parents are going through I am so thankful. It could be SO much worse. Our son Kyle is in great shape compared to some of the others. So many are schizophrenic, and that seems like such a cruel disorder. So many have been hospitalized or institutionalized, and he hasn't. In fact, most seem to be in and out of hospitals and treatment centers.

One parent asked if there was any possibility of a "normal" life. I wanted to stand up and say "yes there is, look at me", but I am still doubting that I'm really bipolar. I express these feelings to my wife, and she says "Puh-lease. How many examples do you want?" She reminds me of how easy she makes my life, and she does. She protects me from the myriad of things that I find difficult or impossible. She is always there for me. She is patient and understanding. But I digress. My life has been enjoyable and relatively trouble free. I have had many successes in my life, but I've also had some significant failures. I've never have a dime to my name, but I've never been hospitalized, and I've never been arrested. I fit in very well with society. Mostly. So obviously my bipolar is NOT NEARLY as severe as most.

I think back to when I was younger. Using drugs, abusing alcohol. I can't help but wonder if I'd been arrested or caught, if my folks would have sent me for rehab or evaluation. Wondering if that would have started a spiral like I've seen with so many people. I had it easy at home, my folks knew I drank, and more or less condoned it. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it was a far different world then. And I do believe as they do, that there is NOTHING wrong with moderate alcohol use for most people. Legal drinking age in our area was 18 at that time, and I drove drunk often. Very often. One unfortunate accident or incident at that time could also have caused a long-term spiral.

So am I just lucky that I've had a great life so far? Or is my bipolar so mild that I've not faced major issues? Or do I not even have it?

I'm still looking for the answers like everyone else out there.

Sensory Stimulation

Is this a bipolar thing, or is this a Jon thing?

I need sensory stimulation. Always have. If I sit down, I reach for whatever is within reach to read. These days I have a computer within reach of virtually every chair I use. If it's not a computer, or book, then it's TV. And music is a given - it's always on. I used to even go to bed with headphones on. When we were dating, many years ago, my wife used to hide all reading material in her house so she could have my undivided attention.

When I sit outside and relax in the sunshine, it's with a cigar and a drink. To do it completely empty handed would be unthinkable. When I'm camping, it's the same way. I'm smoking a cigar while tying hair rigs and staring at my fishing pole. When I'm walking or biking, I'm scanning the grass, and the woods, and the trees for some sign of wildlife. I'm looking in the creeks and lakes for a glimpse of a fish. If it's just grass, I look for snakes to watch or catch. When I'm sitting on the stool, I'm reading or playing minesweeper on my handheld. I'm either being bombarded with stimulii, or I'm asleep.

There are 2 exceptions to this. Kind of. When I lay down to sleep these days, I relish the time. It's an opportunity for my mind to bombard me with stimulii. I just relax and open up my mind and see where it takes me. It's still sensory stimulation, but done internally. And when I shower, I use that time to think. I used to set up a boombox for every shower, now it's purely mind time. Of course, I can do that because my senses are being soothed by the warm water beating down.

I watch others sit down, relax, and just zone out. I can't do that. I don't envy them, I just don't understand them. There is so much to do and experience, why do nothing?

So - is this typical? Or is this just Jon accustomed to a life more hypomanic than not?

Called PDoc

After reading everyone's comments about my Sunday night "nightmare" I finally decided to call the Pdoc. He told me I should have called immediately that night. I guess I wasn't clear enough with him, there is NO WAY I was in any kind of condition to talk to ANYONE. I was way over the top. But that doesn't matter, he suspects the Depakote caused an adverse reaction, and told me to stop taking it.

Hopefully I won't experience that again.

Good Day

After probably the worst night I've ever experienced, I had a pretty good day. I've been long thinking about finding a new job, and last week I sent out a few resumes. Today I got a response, and set up an interview for Wednesday. It's been years since I've interviewed, but I'm looking forward to this one.

Also, I had another part-time opportunity come verbally together today that I'm VERY excited about. I hope to have details to post in the next day or two.

I'm not a big believer in Karma, but if I was being punished last night, it was WAY over the edge, and Karma felt I was owed a little bit after that. All in all, it has been a memorable 24 hours. And probably fitting for someone with bipolar disorder.

Last Night's Events

Something happened last night that has never happened to me before. I can't explain it other than to call it an attack of some sort. Anxiety, mania, a combination?

Yesterday wasn't a terrible day, although my truck didn't start. Because I worked I had to ask one of my kids to buy and install a battery for me. This also meant I had to depend on my wife to drive me to and from work. Upon getting home, the house was a disaster. If there is one thing that sets me off it's a trashy house. And this is funny, as I can put off maintenance forever. But show me papers on furniture, an unswept floor, or any number of things and I go ballistic. In our case, we have so much junk our house can't hold it all. And it moves from one room to another. I can walk into the spare bedroom and not even be able to open the door because it's stacked with so much junk. With Karen's Mom coming to live with us (she comes today, by the way), the spare bedroom is clean, but the junk is distributed all over the house. I can't walk through the basement any more, and our downstairs door is unusable due to junk being piled up. Some people, when they close their eyes and think relaxing thoughts might think about beaches, sunshine, or similar. I fantasize about a dumpster in the driveway and walking out with armloads of stuff.

I got home from my part-time job last night, and I hurt all over. I was physically exhausted, as well as mentally. I watched some TV (can't miss Gray's Anatomy), and sat down at the computer to try and write. I ended up just leaning back in the chair, too exhausted to do anything. About 10:30 I got up to go to bed. I hadn't taken my Depakote yet. I got into bed, and my mind took off. It was what I would imagine a bad acid trip to be like. I was completely overwhelmed by various things. First it was excrement, then sludge, then random shapes. I was laying in it, and it kept coming in. Coming at me from everywhere. Totally overwhelming. It was undoubtably brought about by my irritation with the shape of the house right now. My wife is snoring, and my rage was overwhelming. I made her leave the room. She was scared to death. I would sit up and open my eyes and the images would go away, but the rage continued. I considered slamming my head against the bookshelf next to the bed to make it stop. But the physical warmth and comfort of my bed kept calling me back, and I didn't want to get up. So I'd climb back into bed, and it would start again. I finally found some peace, by imagining a bullet to the back of my head. It was amazing - that thought entered my mind, and the peace just rolled in. I was still irritated, but at least the images, voices, and hallucinations were gone. I finally managed to drift off to sleep.

Today I'm a pinch depressed, I think mostly due to guilt over what I experienced last night. It wasn't last night's dose of Depakote that brought it on, I didn't dose until this started. I got up to make it stop, and took my dose.

My wife told me she feared hearing a gunshot from the room, and debated calling 911. I told her there was no way I would have gone with them, it would have taken the police and a taser to subdue me. And I really can't predict what I would have done, but it wouldn't have been pretty, and it wouldn't have been easy. Things would have taken an even nastier turn.

Whatever it was, I never want to experience it again.

My wife wants me to contact my Pdoc, but I'm not going to. If it happens again, maybe. But she did have a good point in that we should have a plan in place in case it happens again. I don't know what that plan would be, I was in no frame of mind to listen to her, or anyone else for that matter.

I can't help but think this was caused by my meds. If this is something I'm going to face regularly, screw that. I'm done with meds. I'll face life head on without them. But if it's something I would have experienced anyway, I'm better off with the meds. I just don't know, and may never know. But if it happens again, I'm done with them. If I make it through that night.

Typical Friday Odds and Ends

First, I am adding a daily entry to Living Bipolar journaling my new Depakote use. That makes more sense than doing it here. There’s not much there yet, but give it a chance.

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Karen’s mom had a stroke a few weeks ago. She will be released from the hospital on Monday, and will be living with us. I really don’t mind this, I’ve been expecting it from the time we married. She will be a nice addition to our household. When you have as many people in the family as we do, what’s one or two more? Karen is really stressed about it, and all of a sudden I see this as being more than just an additional person under our roof. I tried to talk to Karen about this today, and she refused to discuss it. Whenever it’s a difficult topic, she’s “sick to her stomach”, or it’s “too late, and she won’t be able to sleep”, or something. Now I’m one to talk, there are things I just can’t talk about, and have left her high and dry on many things like this. But I have this sudden fear that I’ll be losing my wife as I know her today. And I’m not willing to do that. I don’t mean my wife will leave, but if she’s constantly worried about caring for her mother, or if she’s not able to relax, or if we’re not able to go out, then our relationship changes. I admit to being selfish about this, but I REALLY don’t want to lose our relationship the way it is today.


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And from the “This is just wrong” file…
Our local symphony orchestra is doing a show called “The Music of Led Zeppelin”.


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Our now 11 year old daughter has a birthday today. After watching her oldest brother struggle to pay for college, she asked for a college savings plan for her birthday. I so dearly love that girl!


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Kyle, our 21 year old bipolar son, appears poised for a free-fall. He got a job, and is making money now, which means he’s not coming home. This is not a good sign. Yesterday he called his girlfriend and asked her to pick him up from work. She talked her father into loaning her his truck, which is no small feat, as they hate Kyle. She gets there, waits a while, and discovers Kyle snuck out and left with a co-worker. That’s SO like him, he’ll do anything to avoid confrontation with her. Also, his frame of mind is questionable. We heard him the night before at 3:00 in the morning, screaming profanities at someone, saying “I fucking hate you”. His girlfriend says it was not her.


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C’mon Depakote, kick in! My nervous tics are back, and I hate this!


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Back to work…

A Conversation

Hey hon, I had a P-doc appointment today.

How did it go?

It was OK - he prescribed Depakote.

Depakote? Really?

Yeah - do you know anything about it?

Kyle was on it for a while. He didn't like it, but he doesn't like any meds.

Uh-oh. Listen to this: Transient hair loss. Trembling hands. Weight gain.

Oh no - you're reading the disclosure literature, aren't you?

Liver damage! Jaundice!

Put that away!

Check this out: It's associated with an increased incidence of tumors in rats. Tumors!

What?

Well, they say the doses were 5 to 10 times higher than usual doses...

Now stop that! Do you think if I had read that stuff I'd have ever taken birth control pills?

We have 5 kids - a lot of good it did you.

Now stop that. Would you have changed a single thing?

Will you still love me if I lose my hair? And turn yellow?

(And the discussion continues...)

P-Doc Follow Up

Back from the Pdoc. On my last visit he gave me a mood chart. It was a ratty, faded, off kilter thing due to being copied dozens of times. I couldn't stand to look at it, let alone use it. So I created a new one, using Excel. Excel "excels" at making business forms, you can lay things out with great precision. Even with that, I only got about 3 weeks charted. He asked me to be more diligent about using it, and I know I should. I burned him off a copy of the new form on CD, and he said I was "the man". Of course, not enough to get a discount on my session... If there's any interest in that form, let me know and I'll post it for download.

We went over the usual things, alcohol use, which was minimal. Drug use - I don't understand why he thinks I'm going to start using drugs, maybe I'm high risk for that. I told him my main concern was irritability and anxiety. I asked if maybe I was on too low a dose of Lamictal, I'm at a minimal therapeutic level of 100 mg. He said Lamictal was more for depression, and since it seemed to be doing an acceptable job of controlling that, we should keep the level where it is. I don't mind that, although I think awareness of my moods is doing more to keep depression away than the Lamictal. But I have to admit it is working. I read Bipolar Guy's blog on psych visits, and how much of a red flag an elevated mood is. It made sense, and I wanted to avoid that if possible. But the doc said the best way to control the irritation and anxiety would be with a small dose of Depakote. Of course, from the first time I walked into his office I knew he'd be prescribing that. I'm concerned that it might bring down the highs, and I don't want to lose those. We'll see what happens. He started me on 250 mg for 2 weeks, then 500 mg after that, to be taken just before bed.

I told him the spikes I experience during a full moon, and he said that is not uncommon among his patients. While it doesn't happen to everyone, he said some parents regularly see it in their kids. This is pretty obviously an indication that there is something there, as if I needed to be convinced of it.

Not much else was covered, and no significant insites gained. Just a "touch base how are you doing" visit.

I'll be writing about the effects of the Depakote in upcoming posts.

A Little History

I'm a bona fide product of the seventies, so if I've blogged about this before, I apologize.

I was just thinking about my kids growing up. We owned, believe it or now, a bait shop. We had other things, fishing equipment, archery equipment, other outdoors gear, but we were primarily a bait shop. Through my boy's most formative years they spent much of their time at the shop. It's how it had to be. On Friday afternoons when other kids were excited to get out of school, my boys dreaded it. They knew there were 20,000 nightcrawlers waiting to be bedded and packed. That's right, 20,000 huge worms, counted one by one into containers of a dozen. We did a hell of a business at that shop, but there was still never quite enough to cover expenses...

You can imagine the customer traffic we had to sell 20,000 worms a week - it was crazy at times. Our shop was on the edge of a rough part of town, and our clientele reflected that. We had some interesting experiences, I could tell stories all day. We had 2 customers over the years that were shot and killed by police. They were black at the wrong time and place. We had customers who committed cold blooded murder. One is serving life, the other died before the police could put evidence together to convict him. When people got out of jail, we were one of their first stops. As one who was recently released told me "bottle, babe, bait". We had as regular customers priests, policemen, lawyers, musicians, dancers, pushers, gang bangers, gays, straights, old, young, male, female, black, white, yellow, red, brown - we had them all.

My kids grew up in this environment. My boys could count change before they were 10. My daughters lay in baby carriers on the counter, from the time they were literally only days old. The lower a customer's economic status, the friendlier and more accepting they were of my kids. The successful customers thought my kids were a nuisance, while those struggling to find a dollar and a half for some minnows treated my kids like they were something special. And they were. The old grandmas were the most memorable. They would see my newborn daughter there on the counter, swoop down and scoop her up like you know they had done thousands and thousands of times before. They would exclaim to their friends "aint this the prettiest white baby you ever did see?!" They were very special people to us, and to my kids.

My youngest boy was known as "little man". "Hey Little Man, hook me up with some of them minnows". And he'd jump to it, eager to please the customers who treated him like an equal. My older boys didn't enjoy it as much as "Little Man", but they had advantages also. We had an archery range in the store, and the boys were competing in regional archery tournaments when they were young teens. They were making good money working for us, and they had all they ever wanted for outdoors equipment. We hunted together, fished together, and the kids were part of a group that made the most of the outdoors. They were equals in the eyes of all that hung with us. As teenagers they were shooting and dressing deer, catching and cleaning fish, helping me run bass fishing tournaments and run weigh-ins, and living a life many kids could only dream about. It wasn't always easy for them, but they did have many advantages.

Looking back, I see now that my bipolar was both a help and a hindrance in that time. Back then, I had never heard of bipolar disorder. But I'd work 7 days a week, 16 to 18 or more hours a day. 6 AM till 10, or midnight, or maybe 2 AM. Then back at 6 to do it again. If I wasn't bipolar I'd NEVER be able to handle those hours. When it got to be too much, I'd have the wife watch the store, or I'd lock the door and go fishing or hunting. When I was down, I'd snap at the customers. This happened way too often, and I developed a reputation for being "moody". I suppose that's one way of putting it...

Enough for tonight.

Self Destructive Behaviors

Anyone else suffer from self-destructive behaviors? I don’t mean cutting or suicide attempts or anything like that. I mean just behavior that undermines or sabotages your best interests.

My whole life it’s been this way. I was on a fast track to huge success, and pissed it away. Did a few stupid things, and got sidetracked by other interests. It’s like when things get rolling, and success is imminent, I do something stupid and things fall apart. It’s been this way my entire life, and seems to be the same way with my son Kyle. If things start going too well, he just walks away. He’s done this on several jobs, he just leaves. I don’t do that, but I have done some stupid things.

This is why I’m trying SO HARD not to be sidetracked by other interests and activities. But I’m really nervous right now. I don’t know why, I haven’t done anything TOO stupid lately, and I don’t have any plans, but things just don’t feel right. I have this feeling like I just want to bust loose. It’s not a hypomanic type of feeling, in fact I’ve been kind of down the last few days. But something inside is pushing me, and it’s scaring me. I can’t afford a screw-up right now.

Conservative Christian, Right Wing, Republican, Straight, White, American Males

Song lyrics as written and recorded by Todd Snider, from the album East Nashville Skyline

Todd Snider is a "folk singer", and I use the term loosely. He is well known and well respected in that genre, and while you may have never heard of him, he has written songs that you probably have heard. One of his most common is called "Beer Run". "B double E double R U N, Beer Run". Todd is hilarious - he's like a standup comedian in his commentary between songs, and his songs can be extremely funny, or very biting, or sometimes emotional. I heard this song today, thought it was hilarious, and thought I'd share it.

Conservative Christian, right wing Republican, straight, white, American male.
Gay bashin’, black fearin’, poor fightin’, tree killin’, regional leaders of the South
Frat housin’, keg tappin’, shirt tuckin’, back slappin’ haters of hippies like me.
Tree huggin’, peace lovin’, pot smokin’, porn watchin’ lazyass hippies like me.
Tree huggin’, love makin’, pro choicen, gay weddin’, widespread diggin’ hippies like me.
Skin color-blinded, conspiracy-minded, protestors of corporate greed,
We who have nothing and most likely will ‘till we all wind up locked up in jails
By conservative Christian, right wing Republican, straight, white, American males,.

Diamonds and dogs, boys and girls, living together in two separate worlds
Following leaders of mountains of shame, looking for someone to blame.

Diamonds and dogs, boys and girls, living together in two separate worlds
Following leaders of mountains of shame, looking for someone to blame.
I know who I like to blame:

Conservative Christian, right wing Republican, straight, white, American males,
Soul savin’, flag wavin’, Rush lovin’, land pavin’ personal friends to the Quayles
Quite diligently workin’ so hard to keep the free reins of this Democracy
From tree huggin’, peace lovin’, pot smokin’, barefootin’ folk-singin’ hippies like me.
Tree huggin’, peace lovin’, pot smokin’, porn watchin’ lazyass hippies like me.

Happy Valentines Day!

Happy Valentines day, and happy full moon! There's going to be some carousing tonight, I tell you what. The full moon brings out the crazy energy in us. Many may not realize it, but most of the people reading this blog are in tune to their moods and cycles, and I'd be surprised if most don't notice the effect the moon has on us. And not just because it's the moon, it encompasses the earth's cycles. As any outdoorsperson will tell you, it affects animals, their feeding and breeding patterns. And while it's effects on us are not as great as they were in prehistoric times, they are still there.

Anyway, back to Valentines day.

I was leaving the house this morning, and as always, gave the wife a hug. She slipped into my pocket a teeny, tiny, skimpy, black, sheer nylon thong. She told me to be prepared. Damn. I'm prepared all right. Prepared to the point of not being able to concentrate. That's my wife.

Now I know at least one and maybe all of my kids have discovered this blog, and this may scar them for life. That serves them right for reading it. But my wife is incredible. Any time, any place, anything, she's ready to go. And as you bipolars out there know, when we're on, we're on. And she loves it. I cannot imagine being married to someone inhibited, who would turn me down when I wanted a little sump'n sump'n. (Although I sometimes turn her down - it's all about me, you know.) And for all this, it NEVER gets routine. EVER. I don't think a particular scenario has ever been repeated in the 25 years we've been married. And I'm not talking about role playing stuff, or games, or anything like that. Just full out physical enjoyment. Run out of gas, then go searching for your clothes type of enjoyment.

Thanks for indulging me on this. Happy Valentines Day to all!

Brokeback Mountain Shopping List

Before I'm accused of being a raging homophobe, I got this from a gay relative. You can tell it's a full moon, huh?

-----------------------------------------------------

Weekly grocery lists for Ennis and Jack, Summer 1963:

WEEK ONE
Beans
Bacon
Coffee
Whiskey

WEEK TWO
Beans
Ham
Coffee
Whiskey

WEEK THREE
Beans
Bacon
Coffee
Whiskey
K-Y

WEEK FOUR
Beans
Pancetta
Coffee (espresso grind)
Whiskey
2 tubes K-Y

WEEK FIVE
Fresh Fava beans
Basmati rice
Prosciutto, approx. 8 ounces, thinly sliced
Medallions of veal
Porcini mushrooms
1/2 pint of heavy whipping cream
1 Cub Scout uniform, size 42 long
5-6 bottles good Chardonnay
1 large bottle Astro-glide

WEEK SIX
Yukon Gold potatoes
Heavy whipping cream
Asparagus (very thin)
Eggs
Lemons
Aged Gruyere cheese
Walnuts
Arugula
Butter
Olive oil
Balsamic vinegar
6 yards white silk organdy
6 yards pale ivory taffeta
Case of Chardonnay
Large tin Crisco

Cheney Shoots Hunting Partner

Cheney accidentally shoots fellow hunter

Everybody's heard this by now. VP Dick Cheney was hunting quail with friends in Texas. Cheney committed the cardinal sin of hunting, did not ensure he had a clear target and wounded a member of his hunting party. I've hunted my whole life and NEVER came close to shooting a fellow hunter or dog. What a bonehead move.

Now if the injuries to the victim were life threatening, I wouldn't be so irreverant. But this can't be passed up.

I heard that Cheney really meant to shoot the dog. You know, the "War on Terrior" and all...

The victim will make it, but would have been a lot better off if Cheney hadn't tried to field dress him.

Good thing they weren't turkey hunting. It would have been the veep that was shot.

And people say he can't hit squat...

Rumor has it that somebody in the hunting party yelled "Quayle"!

Cheney's been keeping such a low profile lately, he thought it was time he gave his detractors some ammunition.

Oh, so much material. I could go on forever...

Kyle's Job

I posted this the other day on Bipolar Support, but we're so happy about it, I'm reposting it here.

Kyle has a job again, and the change in him is remarkable. This happens whenever he gets a job, his confidence returns, he gets more productive in his day to day life, and he is just a different person.

This shows me that disability is most likely a huge mistake for him. In fact, I can see how disability could be a huge mistake for most people in his situation.

Please don’t misunderstand this. Disability is ABSOLUTELY necessary in many scenarios, and I am in no way supporting any curtailing of any program designed to help those with bipolar or mental challenges. I am saying that collecting disability can cause a spiral of dependency. The lack of self worth causes more issues, potentially leading to the substance abuse that is so prevalent among those of us with this condition. It’s an insidious trap – the job gives the self confidence necessary for a normal life, yet they can’t hold a job due to their condition. Go on disability, and they can’t take a job as their assistance will terminate or cut back to nothing. So their confidence and self-worth will never be what it could, and they will never become contributing members of society. This leads to…

It’s the song that never ends.

I did have a comment on the other post that disability helped increase confidence by allowing her to contribute financially to her household. I understand this also, but it's not that way for Kyle.

But back to the positive. Kyle is happy, cheerful, and doing things around the house. He did his own laundry yesterday. He’s a joy to be around.

Now if we can talk him into getting on a program of meds he stands a fighting chance of keeping the job. But he feels so confident and good about himself right now he’ll never consent to start meds.

It’s the song that never ends.

In other news, I finally decided to sacrifice 4 hours a week at my part time job and take another class at a local college. So I'm taking a Visual Basic.Net class. I am fairly proficient in VB6, and other technologies. I've worked with VB.NET, but never had a class. I read an article the other day about how dot net developers are in very high demand, so thought I'd get on it while the getting's good. I'll post from time to time on how it's going. I'll get an A, when I decide to do something, nothing else would be remotely acceptable. And I'm so damned competitive, I'll make sure I'm at the top of my class. That's something I don't like about myself, how I can't look at someone in that kind of environment without trying to out-do them. I rarely come away from something like that with friends, of course I have very few friends anyway. I know a million people (almost), and am known and mostly respected by many, but have very few friends. With my personality, it just doesn't work.

Name Those Lyrics - Part 1

On a message board I frequent we do this from time to time.

Try to name the song, and the artist. In some cases the song has been recorded multiple times - any artist is acceptable.

No prizes to give away, just the unwavering admiration of your peers.

In many cases, lyrics are ****'d out. This is to avoid giving away the answer.

Look for clues - one will lead you to the next.



1. Hear the lonesome whipperwill
He sounds too blue to fly
The midnight train is whining low
I'm so ******** * ***** ***

2. (This one is pretty obscure, but the artist is an excellent songwriter.)
Sometimes somebody just doesn't wake up one day
Sometimes it's a heart attack, sometimes they just don't say
They pulled poor old Hank Wlliams out of a Cadillac CoupeDeVille
He ended up on ******* and ****s.

3. My baby bring me champagne when I'm thirsty
That little girl give me good reefer when I wanna get high

4. Actin’ funny, but I don’t know why
’scuse me while I kiss the sky

5. To touch is to heal
To hurt is to steal
If you want to kiss the sky
Better learn how to kneel

6. (The last word gives it away)
U don't have 2 be rich
2 be my girl
U don't have 2 be cool
2 rule my world
Ain't no particular sign I'm more compatible with
I just want your extra time and your...
****

7. You show us everything you've got
Baby, baby that's quite a lot
And you drive us wild, we'll drive you crazy

8. (An older rhythm and blues classic. Obscure in today's world.)
We gonna pitch a **** **** ****** all night long
All night long, All night long, All night long

9. (The last line gives it away)
She come to town; she be foolin' around
a puttin' me down as a rock-and-roll clown
It's all right
**** **** ***** ********

10. I don't wanna know your name
Cause you don't look the same
The way you did before
OK you think you got a pretty face
But the rest of you is out of place
You looked all right before

Things Get More Difficult All The Time

Life is not getting easier, the last few years it's getting more difficult. We're right back to the 'meds helping or hurting' question.

Is my bipolar making life more difficult? I've heard that it gets worse as time goes along. Does anyone have any knowledge or information on this? I can say, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that things are absolutely more difficult mentally and emotionally for me than they were 3, 4, or 5 years ago. In fact, it dates to the time I began meds. Things have been a rollercoaster since then. Even when I'm emotionally stable, as I am now, things are still more difficult than they used to be. My memory is fading very quickly, and anxiety levels are rising quickly. I blow up less often than I did, but when I blew up it was only a hour and I was back to normal. Now I don't know what normal is.

I'm not even sure I'm bipolar. Did I merely tell the PDoc what he wanted to hear? What I wanted to tell him? This may be some form of 'sympathy search' for my son's condition. It may be some form of desire to medicate. It may be a pre-emptive coping mechanism to cover an impending fall or failure. All I know is life shouldn't be this difficult. I should be able to spend more time living, and less time analyzing it. It's gotten to be an obsession. This blog, the new Living Bipolar web site, my discussions with my wife, in everything I do this condition is dominating my life. I'd like to go back a few years to when I didn't even know this condition existed. I got by in my ignorance, had a vague understanding of my moods and cycles, and didn't have to worry about it. I lived mostly in the moment, and truly enjoyed life. I'm not so sure I can say that today.

How Bad Was That?

I thought Paul McCartney was an embarassment in last year's Super Bowl, but The Stones put on the worst halftime show I've EVER seen. That absolutely SUCKED. To be fair, it took a few minutes to get the mix down, the sound guy should be castrated for that one. But those dinosaurs should be extinct. My 18 year old son came in and commented how terrible they were. He said he likes the Rolling Stones, but this was like old guys trying to cover The Stones on American Idol.

Simon would tear them a new one.

Odds and Ends

First, on my part time job I work with a lot of kids, mostly college students. Some really great kids. I have run into this before, but it still sticks with me. I overheard the guys talking, and heard a new kid went to the same high school as my kids. I told him my kids also went there, and gave my last name. The kid starts to laugh. I knew immediately it was Kyle he knew. I said that Kyle was somewhat wild, he said, 'yes he was...' as he walked away still laughing. It's likely I'll never know the half of it, nor would I want to.

Kyle got a job! We really hope it will last, but as painful as it is for him to get ready, we wonder. He stresses SO much about the littlest things. He washes dishes and busses tables at a restaurant, but he has to be PERFECT before he leaves the house. He ends up 'freaking out' and running out at the last second because he couldn't find the deodorant, or the Q-tips, or... I feel for him, I really do. This is his life. It's been like this since he's been a little kid. Every day for school Karen put up with this. Every day. I couldn't handle it, we butted heads. But Karen understood him, what he was going through, and had the strength and patience to bring him through it. Kyle works with his younger brother who is a very hard worker and very responsible. We hope that with his brother's good example Kyle will make this job last.

Next, after much aggravation, a step was taken I had hoped never to take. The use of those awful spam busting letters for comments. You know the ones, 'Type the characters you see in the picture above'. Yuck. I mean no offense to those that use them, I have just hit the spam threshold you all have likely hit long ago.

The news spread quickly today. We live in a fairly large town for our part of the country, but even in a community this size things can happen to bring the city together. A few months ago a junior high school girl disappeared. Vanished after being seen getting off a school bus in her neighborhood. This event brought our community together as we watched the news daily, saw flyers being posted and distributed, and so forth. Well today, outside a town close to ours, a dog brought back what was thought to be a human foot. The entire region held it's collective breath, all thinking it was the missing girl. The word came back: A bear paw. Not to trivialize the plight of the missing girl, but a bear paw? That's perhaps more weird than finding a human foot. We live in an area where there probably haven't been bears for hundreds of years, if even then. When Lewis and Clark came through our area, they didn't report bears. How did a bear paw get there? If it was a hunter, it's a LONG ways until you find any bear hunting from here. And if you shot a bear, you would bone it out and remove the hide before you came home. So you wouldn't dispose of a bear skeleton around here. Thats just plain weird.

Lastly, the web site is coming along. I spent a week on message board forums, trying to find one that integrated with my site. I found one that was perfect, but way too basic, and very few features. I found one that was great, but the integration with the site was way too buggy and problematic. I finally gave up and went with the industry standard for forums, but is not integrated at all with the main site. I still do not have really any content to speak of yet. I have my 2 blogs in a feed, and one news service in a feed. I will be looking for more blog feeds shortly, and if you're interested in having your blog included in a feed on the new site I'll post instructions on how to do this shortly. If you want a 'sneak peak' it's at http://livingbipolar.com. I'm not happy yet with the design, and there is still a lot of 'default' or junk content, but I have an 'outline' to build on now. The forum is usable, and I'm looking for ideas on categories you'd like to see. I don't want too many categories, but want enough to keep things organized.

Thanks for all your comments recently. I don't always get to immediately respond, but I read them all and appreciate the thoughts and input.

Website Update

No sooner do I make up my mind to tackle the bipolar web site, a few other things come up. First, I get a paying design and hosting job. Web hosting, and to a lesser extent web design, are "third jobs" for me. I also design custom forms for businesses, but most of that I turn away as I just don't have the time. Most of the web design work I turn away also, although I sometimes agree to do design to get a hosting contract. Well, a job I quoted almost a year ago came through. So that's nice (I guess).

Next, Karen finally agrees to begin "the book". We have talked for many years about writing a book, but we can't commit. I finally approached it from a "project" point of view, we had our kick-off meeting, and we're underway. Underway means beginning the preliminary steps, and getting organized, but it's a start. We meet every week for planning and update meetings.

I'm still committed to the new website, but it's going to take the back burner for a little while. I hope I don't go all bipolar on the concept and leave it halfway started. That would be SO me.

Bipolar Web Site Idea

Looking for input here.

In my opinion, the web resources for bipolar disorder are not good. Some sites have great information, but are not professional in terms of design, and thus the content is not taken as seriously as it could be.

I can build a professional site (not like my blog...), and believe that with good input can put together an excellent resource. RSS feeds for blogs (available through Blogger, but not sure about all services,) which will show your most current blog posts, and drive additional traffic to individual blogs and web rings. Discussion forums, perhaps chat rooms, comprehensive links for resources, book reviews (if people submit them), current news feeds, and so forth.

If handled the right way, it would not pull traffic away from existing sites, but rather consolidate the resources and information to increase traffic to those sites.

First, is this something that is really needed? Or at the least something that would be used? Are the resources that currently exist sufficient? Do we really need one more? It would take a significant amount of time to build and maintain such a site. It might pull in a minor amount of advertising income, but would really be a labor of love. So if not seen as necessary or would not be used, there's no sense in putting the time into it.

Looking for honest and candid input, pro and con. If you don't think it would be used, or not a good idea, don't be afraid to shoot down the idea. Don't hesitate to leave anonymous comments for this one, you won't offend me.

A Few Random Thoughts

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Irritability Level

My irritation level has skyrocketed. I don't know why it happens, but often when something out of the ordinary happens, my irritation level jumps. If my wife gets sick, my irritation level gets very high. In this case, my wife is not sick, but she's preoccupied with her mom, as she should be. This is feeding my irritation. It makes me feel very guilty, but I can't help it. I just try to keep my mouth shut, as the littlest thing sets me off. This started a few days ago, prior to Karen's mom getting sick, and is peaking now.

I thought since starting on Lamictal in late November this was under control. I see now it's nowhere close. In fact, I'd go so far as to say this drug has done nothing. Originally that was the best part - I didn't feel any major differences. But since being on this med I've been manic, I've been depressed, I've suffered extreme irritation. I thought I felt better earlier. I was enjoying being close to and holding my wife, and enjoyed her company more than I had in years. I interpreted that as being a positive effect of a mood stabilizer. Was that the effects of the Lamictal, or was that a placebo effect? My nervous tics are back, and have been getting more noticeable for the last 3 weeks or so. I'm sleeping less and less. I'm hating my jobs - both of them, and I've always enjoyed them in the past.

Over the last few years I have been on several meds - Zoloft, Cymbalta, Seroquel, Lamictal. Each started out with promise, then either did nothing in the longer run, or like Cymbalta or Seroquel, did way too much of the wrong things.

So one of several things could be at play here. It's possible my dosage is too low, I'm on 100 mg a day. I may be on the wrong medication. It's possible I have been misdiagnosed, and have, perhaps, borderline personality disorder, which doesn't respond to medication.

Or it's possible that I'm normal mentally, and am just an egotistical, self centered, asshole.

Prayers Requested

Karen called me at my part time job tonight to tell me she couldn't reach her mother all day. Her mother is an extremely active, spry woman of eighty. Karen went to her house, she hadn't been out all day as the mail was still there, and her house was completely locked up. She called me wondering what to do, and I told her if she thought her mother was in the house to call 911. Karen went home, and came back with one of my boys. He was able to pull open a screen door that was locked, and Karen was able to use her key. They found her mother on the floor of the bathroom where she had suffered a stroke. She had been there about 8 hours.

She's in the hospital, and they've got her stabilized. Her left side is pretty much gone, she can't lift her arm, and it's a question if she'll be walking again. Her speech is slurred. She's in good spirits, but comes and goes.

This is tough for Karen, they are very close. Several years ago, Karen found her grandmother after she had passed away, and it was very traumatic for her. She's been worried about this day, also. This isn't easy for either of them.

If you could keep Karen and her mother in your prayers, it would be much appreciated.

Kyle

Many visitors here haven't heard the history of my son Kyle. With this post, I will attempt to give a little history.

My wife and I have documented our life with Kyle in our blog Bipolar Support, which we started several years ago. We don't update it much these days.

Kyle is the second of 5 children. From the beginning he was a challenge. A high maintenance child, he slept very little. This is something that persists into adulthood. In school he struggled. Not for lack of intelligence, he is brilliant. But he could not do a project without making it perfect. If he couldn't make it worthy of his high standards, he didn't do it. Consequently, he ended up blowing off most assignments. This, of course, made success in school difficult.

We started Kyle in counseling when he was in middle school. This is when we first got an idea that there was more at play than just a lack of motivation.

Kyle never got into drugs or alcohol until late in high school. He was a runner, involved in cross country and track. In fact, when he was 17, he competed in 2 full marathons, winning his age division in his second. His faith was always important to him, he was a very religious kid.

After his junior year of high school he enrolled in the Marine Corps in their early entry program. But by the end of his senior year, he wanted out of the program, and was taking great pains to avoid his recruiter.

On Mothers Day his senior year of high school, he was with Karen at her parent's house. Kyle walked from his grandparents house to a near-by discount store. He tried to shoplift a Mothers Day gift for Karen, and was arrested. The employee suffered a mild injury when he tried to tackle Kyle, and on top of that Kyle had some marijuana in his pocket. It was late that night before we could gather the $2000 cash necessary to bail him out. One of the twenty dollar bills we came up with was counterfeit - can you imagine that discomfort? While he was out on bail he was arrested again, some very cute girls came to pick him up in a red convertible. We knew there was trouble brewing, and tried to keep him from leaving. They went to a grocery store, Kyle grabbed a few bottles of alcohol, and tried to run out. They caught him. This time we didn't bail him out. It was almost 60 days before he came to trial.

Somewhere in this timeframe I was talking to one of my best friends, a state trooper. He was trained in mental health issues, and he told me that Kyle had bipolar disorder. I'd never heard of it before. I told my wife, and she said the counselor had told her that also, but she didn't know how I would handle that information. That statement right there tells you a little about me.

Since then, there's been highs and lows with Kyle. Trips to the emergency room, treatment centers, so forth. He tries hard, then slides. It's been this way for about 4 years now. Meds are not an option, he refuses to take them.

While all this was going on, we were becoming knowledgeable about bipolar disorder, and blogging our experiences in our Bipolar Support blog. It was in this time that I started putting the pieces together, and realizing that I likely suffered from the same thing. Not at Kyle's level of severity, but fairly obvious all the same. I was finally formally diagnosed a few months ago, shortly after Kyle's first formal diagnosis. But in both cases we all knew for many years what we were going to hear.

So, in a very quick nutshell and for what it's worth, that's a history. I am hoping that by being open about my condition and treatment, I can persuade Kyle to be more open and accepting about his treatment options. So far it hasn't gotten us anywhere, but we keep trying.

Kyle Home

Kyle came home yesterday, he was gone 6 days. He was home when Karen got home from work, acting like nothing had happened. We sat him down that evening, and told him he was an adult, and could do what he wanted to do, but he needs to consider the people who love him when he disappears. He seemed genuinely surprised that we cared, and that he had us worried.

So, it's life as normal. I never see him anyway, he avoids me like the plague, but at least I know he's safe.

Thanks again to all for your comments and emails. It meant a lot to Karen and I.

Heard From Kyle

Thanks to all for leaving comments, and sending emails to us. It means a lot to Karen and myself. I have a hard time responding to comments, as blogger is blocked by my employer, and I have so little time at home between both jobs. But I get your emails, and your comments also come by email, so it's much appreciated. At least I'm able to post using Gmail.

Evidently Kyle has been staying with a friend, or maybe shuttling between a few friends. They both claimed they didn't know where he was earlier. He's been evidently avoiding his girlfriend. That's Kyle, he will avoid stress and confrontation at all costs. His girlfriend had an aunt coming into town that is evidently "famous" in some way. She was anxious to introduce her to Kyle. Kyle is a good looking young man, presents himself very well, and is very poised and polished when he wants to be. But, and this is conjecture on my part, he couldn't handle the stress of this meeting, and took off. It's his exact MO. Anytime there's something he doesn't want to do, be it medically, socially, or due to employment, he takes off or gets so drunk he can't function, and therefore can't go.

His girlfriend came over yesterday and held the phone to my 18 year old son's ear and told him to dial a particular friend. Evidently she had a tip he was there. She knew Kyle wouldn't turn down talking to his brother. He tried to tell her the line was busy, but she immediately called back and hung up, telling my son it was free. He called, and talked to Kyle. Kyle said he'd be home in the next day or two.

That's all I know right now. At least he's not in the hospital, jail, or the morgue.

Kyle Update

Our 21 year old bipolar son, Kyle, has been gone now since Thursday night - Friday morning. This isn't unusual, when things get too stressful for him, he disappears. We assume he goes on a bender, and usually comes back after 2 or 3 days. But he's not usually gone this long. We're a little concerned.

His girlfriend has been calling several times a day, she is very worried. She got some very mean text messages that said they were from Kyle yesterday, saying he wanted to break up, and being very mean. Karen told the girlfriend that Kyle would never do that, and he wouldn't. He's as compassionate as they come, and would NEVER knowingly hurt anyone's feelings. But she's scared, and hurt, and we don't blame her.

We've gotten some clues from various people so we know he's still alive (that really is a concern of ours), and he may be staying with a few different people. But he's not working, has no money, and is a sloppy drunk, so nobody will tolerate him for too long.

We get angry having him around the house, as he creates messes and is not respectful of our house or property, yet we miss him and worry when he's gone. That's the nature of a parent, I guess.

(Cross posted to Bipolar Support and Living With A Purple Dog)

The Difference Between Men and Women

A woman was out all night. When she got home, she was met by an angry husband who asked her where she was. She told him she spent the night at a friend's house. The husband, doubting her story, called 10 or her best friends. All 10 said they had not seen her last night.

The next week, the husband stayed out all night. Upon arriving home, he was met at the door by an angry wife. He claimed he spent the night with a friend. The wife, doubting his story, called 10 of the husbands' best friends. Of the 10, 8 said he had just left, and the other 2 said he was still there.

Must Read

Just came across a blog by a lady named Teressa, called Oh blah dee Oh blah dah. Man, if anyone out there thinks they've had it rough, you need to read this. This lady is a survivor, and has been through things that most of us can't even comprehend.

Teressa, God bless you, your husband, and your son.

A Lot Of Work Ahead

They've blocked Blogger in my company's security settings! I'm seriously bummed! So this may or may not go through. I can access blogs, but cannot access blogger, or comments. I'm doing this post through GMail. So if this post comes out very garbled, you'll know why, and I'll correct it when I can. I'm also saving this post in a text format so I can replace it when I get home after the second job tonight.

Checked out Gen's blog again today, and she's getting things going her way. I really admire her for being so persistant in locating help given her frame of mind. I can't imagine how difficult that would be.

My main hobby is anything computer related. I do some web design, and some web hosting, and run a small web hosting business. (Begin shameless plug: go to homepagewebs.com for hosting plans and information). I have MANY web sites for my own use, for organizations I'm associated with, for family members, and for customers. I have several servers I use, and due to issues I've recently experienced I have to move all my sites on my main server to another. Talk about a PITA! I'll be doing this for a week or two. And I use mostly sites with a database back end, such as content management systems and message boards, so this makes it so much more than merely uploading some files.

If anyone out there needs any advice on this topic, don't hesitate to let me know. I know I wasn't able to help Belinda much on a comment issue she had the other day (for some reason I am getting returned emails a few days after each comment I make on your blog, BTW), but for design questions, or domain questions, or registration questions, or setting up your site, or any kind of code, or similar, I'd be happy to help.

It's All A Frame Of Mind

I kicked it's ass!

Kicked what's ass?

Depression.

I was on my way down the last few days, and yesterday I allowed myself to really get down. But through the power of the mind, I am now flying high. I'm ready to party, or work out, or whatever I can do to use up some of this energy. Unfortunately, I'll be sitting at my desk jonesin' all day for some activity.

Another thing that helped - it's January in The Heartland. It should be single digit temps. Right now it's over 50 degrees, and maybe 60! Makes me wish I still had a fishing boat - I'd skip work and find some open water today.

Who needs meds? The mind is all-powerful and can work miracles. You have to know how to make it work FOR you.

And before all of you jump on and warn me about dropping my meds, I won't do that. I'm feeling better than I have in a LONG time, and these meds might be contributing to this.

Give Myself A Kick In The Ass

I am tired of this depression shit, and decided to give myself a kick in the ass and get things moving the right direction. So I put on some music this morning to get me going, I started with Les McCann and Eddie Harris doing "Compared To What". This is a jazz/funk classic from the sixties and it COOKS! I went from there to The Subdudes, a party band from New Orleans. I was moving and grooving before I even left for work.

At work, I have a killer headache, and coffee is tearing up my stress worn stomach, so I'm drinking tea and feeling better. Once this week is over, things will be MUCH better. But I'm still not letting that get me down, I am MAKING it a good day. In honor of that, here's an article I wrote for my company newsletter a few years ago:

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Are you one of the world’s luckiest people? I am. For the last half of my 30 plus year working life, I have been able to earn a living doing things I really enjoy. I made a career change a few years ago, and joined a large telemarketing company after having sold a business I enjoyed running. I am now part of their IS team, and am, once again, utterly and completely happy. Things move so quickly here, you have the opportunity to work on new things every day. Programs go up and come down, a program you write today can be in production tomorrow. Talk about instant gratification! Fantastic management, great co-workers – it’s a dream job. Am I satisfied? Heck no. There’s more challenges and even greater satisfaction over that next bump in the road…

I’ve talked to many people out there unhappy because their lives don’t fit their expectations or 'scripts'. They feel the best path to happiness is to change their scripts to change their lives. Good advice for some, perhaps, but not necessary for most. You see, having been there on multiple occasions, I have come to believe that HAPPINESS IS A CHOICE. It is usually not a new career, a new position, a new spouse, a material object. IT IS A FRAME OF MIND! It took the first half of my working life, including several job and career changes to discover this. The man who gave me my first job at age 16, a successful entrepreneur who has since passed on, used to be fond of telling people 'Make it a good day.' Not 'have a good day', but 'Make it a good day.' It IS a choice. You can choose to be unhappy about things such as workloads, clients, co-workers, income, or a host of other things, but I choose to make every day a good day. I truly love what I do, and know the rewards will be there in the end, provided I continue to learn and improve myself.

It starts by being positive. Look forward to going to work. Maybe you need to look forward to small things to begin with – getting there early so you can enjoy that first cup of coffee and e-mail a friend. Lunch with a co-worker. The music you listen to while you work. Find those 'little' things that you enjoy, and build on them. Avoid, at all costs, negative people. A single negative person can poison the whole atmosphere of an office. Strive for perfection. The sense of accomplishment you get from doing your job well puts you on the path to happiness. Always try to improve yourself. Through additional education, reading, practice. If you are improving, your attitude can’t help but be better!

It’s a cliche, but the rest of your life really does start today.

Make it a good day.

Depression

This medication isn't helping prevent depression. I don't think there is a med that can do that for me. They can take away my highs, tame my irritability, sap my sex drive, make me gain weight, even make me more affectionate. But the single thing that pushed me towards seeking pharmaceutical help was depression. And that's the thing I can't control.

So, is a bipolar med SUPPOSED to control depression? I guess from interacting with other bipolars I can't expect it to do that - people get depressed anyway. So why are we on this stuff? I mean really - what is this accomplishing? Have we become pawns of the drug companies? We know they are in business to sell drugs, and we're an easy mark. Most of us are adult enough to have left the world of street drugs behind, but are we chasing the same thing with our meds? That desire to feel different?

I'm sliding into a depression, it took me two hours to find the motivation to write this. And now that I'm doing that, I'm getting pissed. Pissed at the entire situation. The drug companies aggressively marketing to those with mental issues. The medical professionals that so freely prescribe. And pissed at myself for getting sucked into this culture.

But that's enough of the negativity. I detest constant negativity, and I don't want this blog to turn into a whine fest.

Fun will be had tomorrow.

Blogger In Crisis

Hey All - I have come across a blogger that really seems to be struggling right now. I hope she doesn't mind this, but I think she'd appreciate a show of support from other bloggers that have been through her situation. Maybe it's that she reminds me of my son and his struggles that is tugging at my heart. But if you all could find a few minutes to visit her blog and give her a shout it might make a difference. She doesn't seem to allow comments for her posts, but there is a contact e-mail address there.

Her blog is I Am Gen.

Kickback Mountain

I'm sorry, I can't resist...

From American Idle.



(By the way, Blogger images are not visible to me at work, so let me know if this is not showing up)

Current Frame Of Mind

This bipolar stuff is a lot like a fighter jet. You're screaming along way up in the clouds, then without warning, the engine dies. You start plummeting. As you're plummeting, you're telling the control tower that you have things in control, you're OK, everything will turn out. But you're watching the altimeter quickly fall with a morbid fascinaton, while fantasizing about how many people will be crying at your funeral. Then the engine starts, and you begin to fly again, at tree-top level, trying to maintain control, and trying to gain altitude before you hit the mountain that's looming in front of you. Then the power kicks back in, you point the nose towards the clouds, give it all the power you can, and pull major G's while you streak towards the ozone. Those G's and that ride make it all worthwile.

With this Lamictal I'm on, I'm now flying a little twin engine plane. I can't fly too high, can't fly too fast, can't fly too low. I just putt along. I really want to fly fast, fly high, pull G's. But I can't right now. Interestingly, things that I wouldn't give a second thought to before are now worrying me. Irritability seems to be higher, as is anxiety. But irritability is no longer focused on people like it was before, but on situations. Anxiety is due to things that would not have bothered me previously. While I suppose this is normal for most people, I can tell you this: I don't much like it. But I stay on the Lamictal, as much as an experiment to see what it does to me as anything. I'm starting to wonder if this is not so much a desire to get "better" as it is a way to make myself feel different for a while.

Or maybe it's just a "manic' precursor to a depression. If so, it's not nearly as severe as before, but I'll have to see if it gets worse.

For fellow bloggers reading this, sorry if I've been somewhat caustic with recent comments. I'm going to avoid making blog rounds for a few days so I don't piss anyone off too badly.

Disability Questions

OK folks, I'm looking for answers here, and I have a feeling there's some experts out there. So if you could leave comments after this post, it would be MUCH appreciated.

I have written frequently about my son Kyle, both in this blog, and in the blog we started several years ago, Bipolar Support. Kyle is 21, and I want to get him started on Social Security disability. He refuses to go along with it, for several reasons. So, I'm addressing his concerns.

First, if (when) he's approved, what if he decides to try to work again? I am assuming he loses his disability at that point. If he only lasts a few months at his job(which is normal), does he have to completely go through the application process again? What if his job does NOT offer medical benefits? Can he keep medicare or medicaid while working that job?

Is medical and presciption (medicare or medicaid) an integral part of Social Security Disability? If he qualifies for one, does he automatically get the other?

Next, I assume his benefits are for an amount of money that depends on how much he's contributed for the last "X" period of time. Let's say $400 a month. What if he can hold a job for a long enough time that his benefits amount could potentially rise. When he stops working after that, assuming we don't have to reapply per the question above, does the increase become automatic?

He was looking forward to a job interview today that his girlfriend lined up for him. But when we checked in on him this morning, he was gone. He was presumably partying last night. It's his normal behavior. When he's nervous about something he copes by getting so wiped out the night before he can't make his obligation the next day. So I have my doubts that he'll be able to secure a job unless we fill out the application for him, and trick him into the interview. Then he'd perform well in the interview, he always does. It's the stress leading up to that he can't handle.

Any input on the SS process would be MUCH appreciated.

Cross posted to Living With A Purple Dog and Bipolar Support.

NAMI Meeting

Went to another NAMI meeting tonight. I really like going to these meetings, I come away with a lot of motivation and ideas for my son. And also for myself, but that's not why I go.

I've written about this before, but it bears repeating countless times. NAMI stands for National Alliance On Mental Health. It's a national organization, but many, if not most, medium to larger communities have NAMI chapters. Many of these local chapters sponsor support groups. Karen and I got started attending these meetings several months ago, and the information we found has been invaluable.

Now this being said, my son would not feel comfortable in the "Consumers" support group. Some of the people have been institutionalized for much of their lives, and I don't think he'd open up in those conditions. But the support group for loved ones and caretakers is excellent. Many people participate, all in the same boat we are. In this setting, a consumer would be welcome in either group.

I blogged earlier about a support chain. This is another excellent link in that chain. And it's as valuable for loved ones as it is for those suffering from a mental disorder, and perhaps more so. Very few of our significant others have a clue what we go through. I would like to see everyone research their local chapters, and find out if they offer support groups. Grab your spouse or SO, and drag them to a meeting. If you can't go, send them. If they won't go, go yourself. If your group is anything like the one we've been attending, you'll be glad you attended.

Can't Make It Here Anymore

Heard a song on "The Pig Online" (KPIG Radio) the other day by songwriter James McMurtry. It was called "Can't Make It Here Anymore", and was quite moving. James McMurtry is an excellent songwriter, in the "American Roots" genre. He has done some excellent songs, but not quite as biting as this one. I would recommend giving him a listen if you ever have the opportunity. This song has been banned by stations across the country. Here are the lyrics, unedited, in their entirety:

"We Can't Make it Here"
James McMurtry

Vietnam Vet with a cardboard sign
Sitting there by the left turn line
Flag on the wheelchair flapping in the breeze
One leg missing, both hands free
No one's paying much mind to him
The V.A. budget's stretched so thin
And there's more comin' home from the Mideast war
We can't make it here anymore

That big ol' building was the textile mill
It fed our kids and it paid our bills
But they turned us out and they closed the doors
We can't make it here anymore

See all those pallets piled up on the loading dock
They're just gonna set there till they rot
'Cause there's nothing to ship, nothing to pack
Just busted concrete and rusted tracks
Empty storefronts around the square
There's a needle in the gutter and glass everywhere
You don't come down here 'less you're looking to score
We can't make it here anymore

The bar's still open but man it's slow
The tip jar's light and the register's low
The bartender don't have much to say
The regular crowd gets thinner each day

Some have maxed out all their credit cards
Some are working two jobs and living in cars
Minimum wage won't pay for a roof, won't pay for a drink
If you gotta have proof just try it yourself Mr. CEO
See how far 5.15 an hour will go
Take a part time job at one of your stores
Bet you can't make it here anymore

High school girl with a bourgeois dream
Just like the pictures in the magazine
She found on the floor of the laundromat
A woman with kids can forget all that
If she comes up pregnant what'll she do
Forget the career, forget about school
Can she live on faith? live on hope?
High on Jesus or hooked on dope
When it's way too late to just say no
You can't make it here anymore

Now I'm stocking shirts in the Wal-Mart store
Just like the ones we made before
'Cept this one came from Singapore
I guess we can't make it here anymore

Should I hate a people for the shade of their skin
Or the shape of their eyes or the shape I'm in
Should I hate 'em for having our jobs today
No I hate the men sent the jobs away
I can see them all now, they haunt my dreams
All lily white and squeaky clean
They've never known want, they'll never know need
Their shit don't stink and their kids won't bleed
Their kids won't bleed in the damn little war
And we can't make it here anymore

Will work for food
Will die for oil
Will kill for power and to us the spoils
The billionaires get to pay less tax
The working poor get to fall through the cracks
Let 'em eat jellybeans let 'em eat cake
Let 'em eat shit, whatever it takes
They can join the Air Force, or join the Corps
If they can't make it here anymore

And that's how it is
That's what we got
If the president wants to admit it or not
You can read it in the paper
Read it on the wall
Hear it on the wind
If you're listening at all
Get out of that limo
Look us in the eye
Call us on the cell phone
Tell us all why

In Dayton, Ohio
Or Portland, Maine
Or a cotton gin out on the great high plains
That's done closed down along with the school
And the hospital and the swimming pool
Dust devils dance in the noonday heat
There's rats in the alley
And trash in the street
Gang graffiti on a boxcar door
We can't make it here anymore

James McMurtry has a blog, it's not updated often but it can be found at http://www.myspace.com/jamesmcmurtry.

Bipolar and Suicide

This is a very difficult subject, and I hesitate to even tackle this. But these figures and the little research I've done blow me away.
-------------------------------------------------------

At least 25% to 50% of patients with bipolar disorder also attempt suicide at least once.

J Clin Psychiatry. 2000;61 Suppl 9:47-51. Suicide and bipolar disorder. Jamison KR, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences, Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, Baltimore, MD 21287, USA.
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This review of the authors' and others' work demonstrates that the lifetime risk of suicide attempts is highest in bipolar II and lowest in unipolar patients, whereas risk is intermediate in bipolar I patients.

Psychiatr Clin North Am. 1999 Sep;22(3):667-73, ix-x. Bipolar II disorder and suicidal behavior. Rihmer Z, Pestality P.
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Nearly half of all U.S. suicide deaths each year are in patients with bipolar disorders, in whom the risk is more than 20 times that of the general population.

Bipolar disorder more prevalent and costly than believed; high suicide rate could be curbed with mainstay drug lithium
-------------------------------------------------------

This scares the HELL out of me. It's only recently in my life that I've had suicidal thoughts, but it seems to get worse as time goes on. Up to 50% of all bipolars will attempt suicide? That means that statistically either my son or I will be attempting. That's messed up.

I'd like to say that I would never do that. But when depression hits you like a ton of bricks, rational thought is gone. What you KNOW when you're stable is NOT THERE when you're in the depths of a major depression. I've talked to people who have described voices calling them, beckoning them. I've never been there, but once again, when it hits you hard you absolutely CANNOT say what you would or would not do.

Let's all do our best to let our loved ones know the risk we're facing. They are in the best position to see what is happening to us, and to help us to seek assistance.

Yesterday's Pdoc Visit

Visited the Pdoc yesterday. An interesting visit. He gave me several insights that made me sit up and take notice.

We discussed my medication, 100 mg of Lamictal. I told him the side effects are minimal, but the benefits were significant. I expressed my concern about long term effects, I'd hate to end up with Kidney or thyroid problems. He told me there was no evidence of that with this drug. I told him one of the major benefits is that I enjoy being affectionate with my wife. Not necessarily sexual, but I'm enjoying just holding her. I go to bed and snuggle with her every night, and I am REALLY enjoying that. He asked if things like her breathing used to irritate me, and he hit the nail on the head. Snoring, even just breathing would set me off. He said I'm more able to live just in the moment now, and enjoy my loved ones and surroundings. That has been a HUGE benefit to my medication. Also, I havn't blown up or gotten particularly manic since starting. If I can keep my explosive temper from my family it will be a HUGE factor.

We also talked about my obsessions, all my life it's been a series of obsessions. Everything I have gotten into, mostly leisure activities, I've gone about obsessively. I throw myself completely into it, or I don't do it. Currently it's computer related. He told me that's likely been a coping mechanism for many years. Instead of tolerating the ups and downs of bipolar disorder, I put on blinders and charge full speed into whatever activity is my obsession at the time. I stay pre-occupied with the activity, and don't have to deal with my personality turmoil. Once again, I think he hit the nail squarely on the head. I need to set some guidelines for myself where my computer use is concerned, and do my best to stick by them. My wife is concerned that if it's not this it will be something else - TV or another hobby. I'll have to stay cognizant of that, and ask for her help and support.

Lastly we talked about "substance" abuse. He asked me about drug use, there is none, of course. He's concerned about that as it's so prevalent among bipolars. We talked about alcohol, I told him, once again, that I don't have a problem, but out of respect to his judgement I have cut back. I told him I had wine over the holidays and did drink during the Cornhusker game and The Iguanas show following the game. He asked me about my cigar smoking (just on my hunting trip), and about coffee (cut back, but not eliminated). He wasn't concerned about any of my responses.

All in all it was a great, productive appointment for me.

The Quitter

I'm doing great right now, but I just ran into this poem in a back folder in my desk. It may sound corny, but this has gotten me through many difficult times, and given me the motivation to keep plugging away.

***********************************

The Quitter

When you're lost in the Wild, and you're scared as a child,
And Death looks you bang in the eye,
And you're sore as a boil, it's according to Hoyle
To cock your revolver and . . . die.
But the Code of a Man says: "Fight all you can,"
And self-dissolution is barred.
In hunger and woe, oh, it's easy to blow . . .
It's the hell-served-for-breakfast that's hard.

"You're sick of the game!" Well, now, that's a shame.
You're young and you're brave and you're bright.
"You've had a raw deal!" I know -- but don't squeal,
Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight.
It's the plugging away that will win you the day,
So don't be a piker, old pard!
Just draw on your grit; it's so easy to quit:
It's the keeping-your-chin-up that's hard.

It's easy to cry that you're beaten -- and die;
It's easy to crawfish and crawl;
But to fight and to fight when hope's out of sight --
Why, that's the best game of them all!
And though you come out of each gruelling bout,
All broken and beaten and scarred,
Just have one more try -- it's dead easy to die,
It's the keeping-on-living that's hard.

--- Robert Service