Depressed?

Depression. Everyone has it at one time or another in their life. Everyone will not experience it in the same extent. Not everyone will realize it is happening or has happened to them.
Yes, I am depressed. No one knows that I am except for myself.
I know I am because I have been here before, and it is not a fun world to be in. It does not happen to me in the extent that I need medicated to come out of it, but I have to do things to bring myself out, or I will need medications. That is one of the factors that put me here. Not medications, well, maybe that is one too, but why I do not look into getting medications while I am in this state of life.

Money. It is due to the fact that I am so broke, I am depressed. It is due to the fact that every pay day, I have to decide what bills I am going to jostle around and pay this time. It is a fear to get behind in payments of these bills. The realization that when the bills are paid, there is no money left for food or medications. It starts out as stress, then you eventually get depressed. And you realize the government is taking over $600 a month from your pay checks for taxes. Those taxes are paying the salaries of those people who are making attempts to tax you more even. Though you cannot pay your bills because half your pay check already goes to taxes to pay these politicians who don't have to pay for their medical treatment, and you cannot even afford to go to the doctor or buy your medicines because you are already paying for theirs.
Politics. I do not understand them, and what I do understand, angers me greatly. Therefore, I try to avoid politics because I do not need that anger in my life, so I will not become more depressed because I am paying the politicians to take more of my money.

Health. Even though I really try to not be ill, it happens. Hypertension is a part of my life, so I need to take medication to lower my blood pressure. My medication costs me $50 a month. Hypothyroidism is a part of my life. Without my medication I cannot function on a day to day basis even. (and depression is a wonderful effect of hypothyroidism). At least I can get by with getting that for $4 a month. (thank-you wal mart). Edema is a part of my life. That is when you get that swelling in your feet. In this past year, mine has worsened, so an increase in the medication dosage has happened, at least not an increase in the cost. Again, thank you wal mart, cost is $4 a month.
Now those are only my PRESCRIBED medications. There are others that are called "over the counter medicines", that many people probably think i can live without, but there are reasons I have to take things, like Vitamin E and C and Fish Oil, Oat Bran Tabs and Prilosec. There are health issues, and these medications are needed to get me past them. These medications are needed for me to be able to get out of bed every morning and make it through the day.
There are days that I do not take my medications. Sometimes I actually forget, and sometimes I intentionally pass them by so that it makes them last longer. Yes, I occasionally skip a day of medications to avoid having to buy more sooner, but I know if I skip too many days of medications, it is a big mistake.
So now why would I want to add an anti-depressant to my already growing list of medications? It would only cost me money, and it probably would not come in generic so gracious wal mart could sell it to me for $4 a month. It would be like my blood pressure medicine, and cost me $50 or greater a month.

Family. Yes, my family depresses me at times. Doesn't yours? Some people have no family, so they are saying "at least you have a family". Even some people that have families are saying that. When I am not going down into my depression periods, I love my family dearly.
My oldest son is not my oldest child. He is the second one I gave birth too, but if we are going to discuss family who depresses me the most, he has to be at the top of the list. One day, he will read this and not understand what he has done, or say "I didn't know" or "I didn't mean to", but whatever. Tim is still at the top of the list. In my words, he forgot where he came from. But if you look at my family history, it repeats itself. My father did it, my brother did it, and now my son is doing it. So is my son to blame? Or is it just something in his genes and he had no control over it?
What I tried to do with my children, is to raise them to be close to each other. To give them all the love I could to keep them together as a family should be. Tim grew up, joined the Navy, got married and forgot where he came from. He has little or no contact with the family. Well, his father calls him and pesters him, but that is so he can talk to Joe the grandson.
authors' note :*If you read this before, you will take note a large portion of it is missing. Right from here. I changed my mind and felt it did not belong here. One day I will share it with Tim, maybe. One day the hurt just might not matter anymore either.*
Mykal does not want me to leave, and she does try to make my life easier except for the guilt trips she throws on me when I make plans for my travel nurse tours. It depresses me because I have to leave my grandchildren behind, but that is something I have to do because my depression for my general life will swallow me up, and even my little mans' smile will not be enough. Mykal has a very busy life, but she tries to include me in most of it to keep me happy. She tries to take away some of my financial problems by paying me to babysit my boys.
Sarah has life's problems. She has difficulty with depression at times, so I think she would understand, but she cannot see others down times, for all the things happening in her life. When she is depressed, no one has a more terrible life than she does. When she is "up" she does not want to see others "downs" for fear it will grab her foot and pull her back in. She speaks out in anger and hurts those who love her while she is having her down time, then she is in her up periods, and has difficulty trying to understand why people just can't be happy for her. Sounds bipolar almost, doesn't it?
Curtis is a problem. He has never been able to do anything with his life. His father enabled him to stay in his psychological prison. There are times when I see Curtis peeking out the "door" of his "cage", and he has even found ability to step out of it a time or two, but he always gets sucked back in by the great winds of depression.

Relationships. I have none. With men at least. I tell people my life would be better if I had a man in it. To tell the truth, I do not know if it would be better, or if it would be worse, but there are times I would so like to have another adult in the house. The house is so quiet, and I get lonely. I eat alone. I watch tv alone. I play on the internet alone. I look outside the door, feel the nice breeze of the day, and I have no one to tell how nice it is. There is no one to hug me when I feel a little bit blue. There is no one to cook for but myself. No one to run to the store because I don't feel like it, so whatever I need from the store, I do without. In the morning when I leave for work, I leave a darkened house. At night when I come home, I come home to an even darker house. The answer is not to leave a light on. I tried that. The house was just empty then.
Yet, I so enjoy the quiet a lot of the time. I don't have to listen to the TV when I want it off. I only have my laundry to do. (which would be 8 loads today if i had someone else) I can eat when I want, what I want. I can come and go as I please, no one to answer to of where I am going. I don't have to argue that I want this here when he wants that there.
Then there is Randy. My ex husband. I even worry about how it will affect him if I were to get a "boyfriend" even. He is acting strange at times. Like he is still my husband, or it is his responsibility to take care of me. Of course, he did promise my father that he would. Maybe that is it?

My House. Even though I am proud to be able to own my own home, at least say I do, as the bank actually owns it, it is a big part of my depression. Due to health issues and just plain working, I am too tired to keep it how I would want it to be. Besides, my craft room cannot be downstairs because I had to "give" that room to the grandkids for when they are here. My upstairs will never be cleaned out. The downstairs will always be cluttered. My bedroom makes me happy because it is big and bright and as long as i keep the clutter out, spacious. But it caused me more debt, and the kitchen also caused me more debt. So though I now have a nice bedroom and a usable kitchen, I have more debt.
There are 4 rooms upstairs. I don't even like an upstairs. I do not feel comfortable being up there. When the house has no other people in it, the upstairs is another world to me, that is to far up? I cannot hear if someone comes into the house downstairs when I am upstairs. Multiple trips on the stairs takes the wind out of me, and I have to stop to make my heart stop pounding the wall of my chest, and that is only two or three trips, making them count as multiple. The upstairs is trashed out, and cluttered. It seems the more I try to clean it, the worse it gets. And the mess in the hallway downstairs, I don't even know what to do with any more.
There is curtains hanging over the door leading into the hall, or foyer. If i do not look beyond these curtains, I can forget that those messes are there even. Every time I try to work on the messes, it takes me down. Therefore, I choose to not work on the messes that often.
But I know my depression is deepening. The messes have spread into the living room and other rooms of the house. Mykal does not see this as depression. I do not know what she sees it as. That I am just procrastinating? Putting if off because I don't want to do it? She does not see that I really try.
The table is covered with things that have places they should be put, or just tossed out. My desk is getting deeper in papers and pictures, envelopes and non important things too. Baskets of clean laundry setting in the middle of the floor. One has been there for three weeks, one has been there for two. Her solution for that was to put it all in one basket. It is only towels and washcloths. Such a simple chore to fold them and place them in the closet, yet, they still sit there in the basket, and now I have washed more to add to the basket.
My own laundry, instead of in a basket, lays in a pile against the wall in my bedroom. What I normally watch and wash when a load builds up, now has probably three or four loads waiting for me. Clean uniform pants and capri pants lay folded on the foot of the bed. They had sat in a basket for over a week before that. Now they are waiting to be placed on hangers and hung in the closet. And the bed is not made.
The empty swimming pool in the back yard. The beginning of projects and leaving them unfinished. No desire to go finish them.

The Signs. These are all signs that my depression has returned to me. What people think are my lazy days are the days I cannot do anything. Days I can barely get out of bed, let alone get off the sofa once I light there. And if I know that all of this is my depression, why don't I do something to get out of it? Why don't I go to the doctor and get medication? I know it would probably help me, and put a stop to some of it, but I also know I have reactions to new medications I introduce to my body. How many "new pills" would I have to try before I found one that I could take and would be effective? Of course, how would I pay for all of the office visits and trial and error medications? Whose to say that I even really need that?
I am in a rut. That rut is called depression. It is hard to deal with because I know I am depressed, but I have no way to fix it. Self analyzation is a bitch ya know.

I was offered a travel position in California. It is 8 weeks giving flu shots to the veterans. Knowing I do not have the money to make the trip, takes me down even further, but I am going to do it anyways. Though I will be terribly homesick and miss my "babies", I know I need to get away from here. You might say I am running from my life. You can, because that is what I feel like I am doing. If I focus on my trip, I might be able to get my laundry done, because I have to. The dishes washed and put away. The cabinets/counters cleaned off. No, I will not be able to clean the hall and upstairs. That will just be there when I return.
I have to do this or I will have difficulty to bring myself out of the depression. Getting away from the "problems" will help. Meeting new people will help. I do hope I still have the job at the hospital when I return, but if not, then I will go somewhere else to work.
Depression. It is a terrible thing to have in your life. I know it is. I have it right now. Don't worry though, it will all be OK.

When You Have Death, You Have Ghosts

this evening i went to the wake of a little girl. wait, they don't call it that anymore. they call it visitation now. this little girl, Madison, was 5 years old, and she developed a cancer in the back of her neck. when it was almost healed, the cancer spread to her lungs and wrapped around her little heart, taking her from us very quickly.
her mother works at the hospital with me. she was doing quite well considering her daughter died in her arms 4 nights ago. when i went in to hug her, she grabbed me so tight saying "thank you for coming, this means so much to me", over and over again. i did my best not to cry, because i did not want to make her cry. we both succeeded with but a few tears escaping down our cheeks.
madison is in a much better place now. free of sickness and pain. full of love. though she did not have to die to get that. her home was already full of love.

in my job, i deal with death alot. i am a nurse. for many years, i worked in nursing homes, whispering in the ears of those who were so close, but yet hanging on. just waiting for someone to tell them that all would be ok if they went home. many of them, dying alone, for their family members had already passed on before them.
now i am working in a hospital, and though i still deal with death, it is not as frequent as in the nursing home settings. i work on what is called med surg. we get mostly sick patients; pneumonia, stomach problems, cellulitis (infection in the skin) and when they have nasty, nasty wounds, we get 'em. sometimes we get a surgery, but nothing big. therefore, we are called med surg.
we get to send people home! i mean, home here on earth. it does not necessarily mean that they are well, but we do make people well sometimes before they go home.

There Is a Ghost in My House

and it is being onery.
i can hear music playing somewhere over towards my bedroom. at first, i thought my radio clock had gone off. when i went to check it, the music stopped. there is none coming from outside. i checked that too. now that i am back here by the computer, the music is going again. it sounds like a radio playing. every time i go to find it, it stops.
i do have a ghost in my house. two to be exact, unless i have acquired a new one.
my ghosts are not bad, they are just here. i used to hear one walking around upstairs. he came with the house. i believe it is a he. he has never given me reason to believe elsewise.
the other ghost is my nephew by marriage, randy joe. he died after i moved in here. he was in his early twenties, and after several misdiagnoses, they discovered he had leukemia. way too late to save his life.
when i was home alone, upstairs sewing, he would walk up and down the stairs. i could feel him peeking over the rail at me, like he was giggling. i could feel him wanting me to turn around to catch him playing hide and seek, but he is a ghost, so of course i didn't see him.
my ghosts would only make their presence known to me when i was alone. whenever the others were home, my ghosts most likely went elsewhere. and then i was really alone. my whole family moved out, leaving me to live here by myself.
they didn't just dump me. they grew up and went on their way.
can you say "empty nest syndrome"? i had it so bad. the ex moved out on me, then the kids left me one family at a time. lol. first it was randy, then curtis, then sarah took her two hoodlums and got a place with her "other" person. then mykal and her boyfriend took my bradyn and got a home of their own.
before the last little group of my family had moved out, i started construction on a new bedroom. when my new bedroom was completed, i emptied the living room into my old bedroom, and set my computer desk up where the living room used to be. over in a corner. the living room was now "my office". the center of the floor being empty, the dining area still to one far side like it had always been.
i am not too proud to admit, i am addicted to the computer. though i will say, with out the computer, i don't know where i would be. it was people on the other end of the line who kept me sane. in 50 years, i had never lived alone. never. now i lived in a big house, and my only companion was a dog.
but that is not the story, so let's move on.
during the day, i worked. then i would come home to an empty house, do some chores, then settle down in front of the computer. i never had many lights on. no tv running. and you could hear them. my man walking around upstairs, and randy joe on the stairs. i do not remember them ever coming to the living room before, but one night, i began feeling someone looking over my shoulder as i worked on the computer. of course, no one was there.
at first, buddy the dog, would get under my feet, but i reckon he finally adjusted to my company, because he didn't seem to be bothered by them. so though i was alone, i was not alone.
then i went travel nursing. and hired my carpenter to fix the kitchen and bathroom. then i came home again. i moved my office into my bedroom because the old living room was trashed out due to everything was put into it for the remodel job. it was a total mess, and i had to clean it out.
it took me all summer, but i remodeled the living room myself, tearing out carpet, painting walls and the floor. i returned the living room to it's original place. my "office" in a different corner now, on the dining room side.
my ghosts were gone.
i do not know where they went to. i do not think they liked the "new" living room. no one walking about upstairs. no one looking over my shoulder. it has been quite sometime since i last heard my men.
then, a couple months ago, i set my sewing room back up. it is upstairs. the room where randy joe would come up behind me and peek over the rail, daring me to turn to catch him. and he was there again. i was sewing a dress for willow, and i could feel randy joe giggling over on the stair case, peeking over the rail at me as i worked.
then a few days later, i heard my gentleman, walking about upstairs. he must have been checking out what i had been doing. it is a mess up there. i am sure he does not approve of it. but, i do not see him doing anything to help.
they are not the only ghosts i have had in my home. i had not lived here long, and my mother had become very ill. i came out of my old bedroom, and my father was sitting on my sofa. as clear as day.
my father had been dead for 15 years. or something like that. he was looking towards the bedroom door, sitting in the corner of the sofa. one leg crossed over the other. his arm draped across the back of the sofa. he didn't say anything, or do anything. he was just there, then gone. not long after that day, my mother went to join him.
i am sure they have both been here since. i hear my mother call my name. i find the white tips from muriel cigars laying about. daddy smoked those before he passed. you can smell the chantilly lace sometimes after mom has been here. i know they are only visiting me to make sure i am all right.
it is funny. the music is still playing. it is not loud enough so that i can make out what it is, but it is like someone is teasing me, making it just loud enough so that i know it is there, and when i go over towards the bedroom, it will stop. all will be quiet. the room has been there for over two years now. maybe i have a new ghost? maybe it is Madison adding some youth to my group of admirers?
hugggggsssssssss