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DeeBear

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About DeeBear

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  • Birthday 10/12/1972

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  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Mississippi
  • Interests
    My interests were old cars, reading, sci fi, and tropical plants. Now it's just recovery.

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  1. It seems this October is going to be a busy one. I got word that a friend of mine passed away this morning. His son - also a friend - called, and he was so broken up I didn't ask any questions. He asked if I would be a pallbearer, and of course I said yes. He'd been battling Alzheimer's the past few years, which my grandparents on my mother's side both had. At least I think my grandpa had it in the end, I don't know if he was ever diagnosed with it - but he had it, or some other type of dementia. My anxiety is flaring up, thinking about going to another funeral, but I'm going. I may spill my marbles all over the place afterwards, but I have to go to this one. October still sucks. Eleven days in. Twenty left to go.
  2. As an 80's kid into guitar, Eddie Van Halen was a big part of the soundtrack of my formative years. I was inspired to play by his rival, Ozzy Osbourne guitarist Randy Rhoads, but before discovering Randy's music, I remember playing air guitar to 'Hot for Teacher.' It was the 1987 release of the Ozzy Osbourne/Randy Rhoads 'Tribute' album five years after Randy's death that made me pick up guitar, and soon Eddie became one of the guitarists I listened to and learned from. Oddly enough, I just recently played through part of 'Hot for Teacher' the other day, probably for the first time in years. I had trouble remembering the verse at first, but it came back to me eventually. It's strange to think he's gone now. Death is still busy in October. Tomorrow I have to go to the hospital for a cardiac catheterization, one more test to be sure my heart is healthy, as my cardiologist puts it, to "make sure what happened to dad won't happen to you." Seeing as he died at age 31 and I'm 47, I don't see how that's possible... I dread it. The nurse called today to schedule the test, and just the day before the test tells me that I need someone to drive me home....and I told her, truthfully, that I don't have anyone to drive me. Not on such short notice. To me it's kind of funny that she was so shocked, but I get it. Most people aren't hermits with avoidant personality disorder. To me, her world, where everybody has someone available to help them is alien. "O brave new world, That has such people in't." — William Shakespeare, The Tempest, Act V, Scene I Guess I'll just have to nap in the parking lot if I'm too drowsy to drive. I grew up expecting to die young like my dad, but instead of inheriting heart disease, I inherited EVERYTHING else that he, my mom, and both sets of grandparents had, with the exception of Alzheimer's. So far. Dad's life was short and full of heartache. Mine has been longer and full of heartache. I'm not sure which is better.
  3. Yesterday was the fifth anniversary of my grandpa's death. I don't think I'll ever get over it. I never got over my dad's death when I was ten. That anniversary is coming up this month as well. It's why I hate October. It's the worst time of the year for me, even worse than Christmas. And all the lovely Halloween imagery keeps reminding me that this is the month they died. I've tried counseling, but it didn't help. If anything, it just made things worse. My feelings were just minor little things that I should just get over. But I didn't. If I could just get over it, I wouldn't have been in therapy. Maybe I should give it another try, but I just don't believe it would help. It never has before. I feel like the only thing I'm good at is hurting. It's the only thing that I haven't failed at.
  4. Last week I fell into a major depressive episode. I always wrack my brain looking for reasons why I fall into these spells, leading me to waves of anxiety that something has gone horribly wrong. Once I fell into a bad episode, and later found out that my parents' dog had passed away on that very day, and I had no way of knowing. So when these spells start, my anxiety tells me that something is terribly wrong, that the worst things I can imagine have happened and I just haven't found out yet. I have had several vivid dreams, including one in which my stepdad was sick and in the hospital. That hasn't happened, but thoughts keep churning in my head. I wish these episodes happened for a reason, but most of the time, they don't. Sh*t happens. And it stinks. Today I woke feeling as if someone had beat the hell out of me in my sleep. I slept until 11, got up for a time, and just laid back down and slept the afternoon away. I recalled brief scenes from dreams last night...several different dreams. It's as if I wore myself out dreaming so many dreams., and had to rest this afternoon from all the dreams last night. Yesterdays pile up faster and faster, while tomorrows just get darker and darker. And I dread them. I just can't seem to imagine anything good happening in my life. I'm wondering if my meds are doing anything anymore, or if it's just my age and my slowing down so much in recent years. But again, there may be no external cause for it at all. It just is what it is. And there's nothing or nobody to blame. It's just my soul's wounds reopening again. That which doesn't **** you sometimes just wounds you for life.
  5. I am so tired. My body feels like it's on fire. Roasting from the inside out. Each spring I work to build myself back up, to get outside and be active, but each year it gets harder and harder. I've been in pain the last couple of days, since I mowed the yard. Not only is my energy lower than ever, I keep taking longer and longer to recover when I have triggered my fibro. If it feels like this at 47, I don't know how much more I can take. And my mood...is terrible today. I kept waking up in a sweat last night and I feel like I didn't get any rest. I do not have a fever, and I didn't eat anything that would drive my blood sugar up, so I don't know why that's happening. I feel like my dreams are wilting and dying. I don't have the energy to accomplish much of anything. I'm just so sick of fighting it all.
  6. I have been thinking about blogging here again for quite some time, but I kept putting it off. I just don't feel motivated to do much of anything, much less blogging again. My world has shrunk down to almost npthing. People I worked with for a decade now pass me by as if I'm a stranger. I haven't seen or heard from the few friends I had in a very long time. I am now alone. I guess I feel as free as I can now, no longer living in fear of social interactions. But...I can't escape sorrow, only parts of it. I miss several people I was close to that have passed away, but I can't allow myself to let anyone new into my life. The last person who I let in was a friend who fell in love with me. I didn't feel that way about her, and I still feel guilty about distancing myself from her, but I had to, for both me and her. I don't think I'm even capable of romantic love anymore. When someone starts getting close, I run away. I am antiman - the opposite of man. I am only alone when I'm around others. And like antimatter contacting matter, I feel like letting others in would result in total annihilation. I'm just not a social animal, and mostly I'm okay with that. I am afraid of being vulnerable, of needing the help of others, because there's no one in my life that I'm close to except my parents and my dog. Losing my dad when I was ten broke my heart. Losing my grandpa in 2015 broke it again. I don't know how to heal from it. Five years later, I still feel like the wound is fresh. I feel like I'm just waiting to die. I just hope the other side is better than this. If it's not...I guess I'll be a failure in the afterlife as well.
  7. I am exhausted. Unfortunately, that's not new. I've been exhausted for so long I don't remember the last time I felt well. My body is on fire from fibromyalgia pain, and I've simultaneously felt the icy cold, jittery, vibrating sensation of anxiety. Like grabbing an electric fence. And holding on to it all day. Cold fire. On this day in 2015, the doctors removed my grandpa from life support and I watched him slowly drift away. I've been thinking for some time now that my heart can't be broken again, but I was wrong. Each time you break a stick in half, it gets harder and harder to break again, and I had foolishly convinced myself that the same was true of my heart, but today has proven me wrong. That which doesn't **** you sometimes hurts you for the rest of your life. And I still have the anniversary of my father's death coming up soon as well. It's going to be a white knuckle ride getting through this month. Every year the same milestones come and go, and nothing changes, nothing gets better, nothing gets easier... I feel like I keep driving past the same milestones over and over again but still I'm surprised at how hard it is to watch them go by. I guess I'll just have to give up on the idea that life will get better. It wasn't meant to get better for me. I'm just running out the clock.
  8. DeeBear

    Done

    I know exactly how you feel. Feelin' it right now.
  9. I love 55-56 Chryslers and Desotos. One of the most beautiful body styles ever, especially the 56 models with the larger fins. Oh God, the phone... I hate it when the phone rings. I wouldn't have one at all if it weren't necessary in today's world. I couldn't have said it better...
  10. I used to hate "The Office" because it gave me flashbacks. Most of the characters I worked for were almost as smart as the ones on that show, but they were much more hateful and conniving. I can laugh about it now. Mostly. I had several horrible bosses, and a couple of great ones. It's a completely different workplace when you have a terrible boss. For me, the trigger is a knock at the door. I sometimes freak out when I hear a knock on t.v. It's terrible to have to deal with that at work. BTW, love the 56 Desoto ragtop!
  11. Thanks for reading guys. I never used to understand that quote because I was often distracting myself with things I wanted to do, but now... I'm exhausted and I don't function anywhere near as highly as I used to. Now it makes sense to me, unfortunately.
  12. The past is never far from my thoughts. Whenever my concentration falters, some memory crawls out of the back of my mind, spreading through my grey matter like an ink stain. I watch the past expand behind me, while the future has shrunken away to almost nothing. I feel completely used up. Tired of living. Nothing left to give, and nothing left to do but wait. "Depression is the inability to construct a future" - Rollo May I never understood that quote until now. My depression seems different now, I'm unable to see a future where I am happy, and all I can think of is all the things that are behind me. The only future I can construct is one where I am paralyzed by all my regrets. I keep feeling like I'm not going to live much longer, so why bother. I'm not planning anything, I just feel like my time's up. When your past is nothing but regrets, it's hard to have hope for the future. Nothing left but sunsets, pills, worries, bills, and pain.
  13. Another death in the family. And I'm torn inside. It was sudden and unexpected. We knew he was sick but didn't know he was this close to the end. And now there are a lot of family issues that will never be resolved. I'm nervous, I'm tired... I haven't been sleeping well, and have been having lots of indigestion. I told my doc that I had lowered one of my meds, and that I had seen my suicidal ideation decline so I felt I was going in the right direction, but the anxiety... It's chickening me. And I'd bet it's the source of my indigestion. I've also been very fatigued, sleeping all day some days, but never feeling rested. I'm exhausted all day, every day, and yet I'm anxious, but on the higher dose, all I could do was think of suicide, and I was nervous anyway. I just wish I could disappear. I don't think that I'll never feel good again. I'll never be free from all of this. I'm scared. I'll never find happiness. My only escape from anhedonia is when I'm miserable, or asleep. I always wake up, though. Every morning, the sun has come up and I still feel like everything is black. Blacker than black. Like cave darkness. All day, every day, stumbling through cave darkness, falling down, getting up, falling down, getting up... I'm tired of dragging myself up again. I guess I'll just lay here a while and have panic attacks about whether or not to go to the funeral, and how to keep from dropping my marbles all over the place in front of all those people. There is a place beyond tired, beyond sad, beyond nervous, beyond black, beyond hope. And I don't remember how to get out of here.
  14. So here I am again. My nerves are shot. So my friend A, who had an accident and totaled the truck I sold her, has taken responsibility for the accident, but the other lady in the accident has hired a lawyer and apparently is going to go after me. I get it. She needs a car to get to work, and hers was totaled too. Looks like she's taking it all the way to court, but I don't know how I'll pay a judgement against me. I've been trying to get my finances back on track and I'm barely getting by, and this happens. A keeps saying it's all on her, but the court may not see it that way. I've tried to be honest and work with them, but they're going to take it from someone. I don't think A would throw me under the bus, but I'm afraid she'll hide out and leave me holding the bag. Anxiety. I get it. I got it. And it's eating me alive. I keep asking myself why I bother doing the right thing. It gets me nowhere. I used to think that if I tried to be a good person, good things would happen to me. Now I have come to realize that no matter what I do, bad things will happen. I wonder sometimes if I was a horrible person in a previous life, if I deserve to have bad things happen to me. I feel like I deserve it. Every little thing that I've done wrong stays in my memory forever, and the good things are either forgotten, or never enough. Maybe I should focus on the good, but the good is never good enough, and the bad will haunt me forever. I wish I could disappear. I almost have for the most part, since most people I've known have forgotten me and moved on with their lives. It's nice to be able to go shopping and know that no one will speak to me, but I wish that I had moved on with my life. I'm still the same old broken person I've always been. At least I don't have to answer all the questions, like "Are you married?" or "Where are you working now?" It's taken the pressure off, being forgotten, but I wish that I had answers to those questions anyway. Maybe I just wanted to be forgotten so I wouldn't feel bad about not making any progress in this life. I feel like that Little River Band song, "Lonesome Loser". Only I don't really feel lonesome any more. I've settled into being alone and it's only when I put myself out there that I get hurt and feel lonesome. I don't do that much anymore, and I don't miss that pain, but it seems that no matter what I do, I'm going to hurt. At least this way, nobody sees how broken I am, and I don't feel so ashamed. I feel like I hid it well for most of my life, but as I get older, it's gotten harder to hide, and I don't want anyone to see it. So here I sit, rotting away from the inside. I wish I could move on, but the past keeps playing in my head, over and over. I guess if my life ever flashes before my eyes, I'll be bored because it's all re-runs and sad endings. And watching everyone else ride off into the sunset but me.
  15. I sold a truck to a friend of mine a couple of years ago because she needed reliable transportation. I even made her a good deal on it. She is a good friend who has similar challenges, and I trusted her. In the meantime, she lost the title, found the title, got insurance through an abusive boyfriend, got out of the relationship and moved back to her home state, and was involved in an accident in which the truck and the other driver's car were totaled. And the other driver has already hired a lawyer and claiming hearing loss and other injuries. And I just found out that she never titled the truck in her name so now it's going to fall back on me cuz I can't find the bill of sale. And I'm getting phone calls from the police and the other driver, and probably soon will be hearing from the other driver's attorney. I'm panicking and in tears. My life will never get better. I'm so sick of it all.
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