Free, One Terrific, Wonderful, Spectacular Dog

For you all, an update on the newest member of my pack.

Luke is now, according to the shelter and the vet (who both guessed), approximately 16 or so months old. He is a beautiful dog. Very loving. Solemn, huge brown eyes that can stare into yours forever.

He is very playful, obviously from a hunting breed. When he gets to chasing a small critter in the yard he has the most perfect tunnel vision you can imagine. He is very diligent at everything he does.

So far we have come home to find 3 remote controls in various small, chewed up pieces. We twice now, have come home from a 2 hour trip to church to find a brand new loaf of bread on the floor with about 24 slices MISSING.

Coasters no longer sit on our end tables. Trash cans sit on the porch these days. There is not a whole lot we can do about the wooden entertainment center the big TV sits on, but the bottom left corner is almost gone.

Poor brother Thomas no longer has free access to the entire house (including that nice big warm waterbed) that he had B.L. (before Luke). Now all Thomas has are the 3 rooms that I cannot find a way to close off or use a baby gate on.

If he figures out how to open the fridge, I'm not sure those big beautiful brown eyes will matter.

Dogs - Our Best Friends?

I’ve mentioned here before that I tend to stay away from news articles that I know will put a picture in my mind that I won’t be able to make go away. I have to do this, because, well…I get these horrible pictures in my mind and they won’t go away.

Today I just flipped onto my local news site and the first headline I see is,

Shelter's Mascot Dog Found Mutilated

Dog May Have Been Dragged To Death

I have always had a deep love and respect for animals. As I have grown older however, and I see something in the news like this, and I feel a red hot fiery rage inside me and then the tears start.

I cannot fathom, nor can I even begin to imagine, how any human being could intentionally hurt an animal. I know some people might say, “Well someone who does this has probably been abused or had a horrible childhood”.

Well, BULL BUTTER! I experienced anger and rage and abuse for a lot of years, but I could never think of, and put into action, some train of thought that would allow me to abuse an animal, and I DON’T use the term “Never” lightly.

I don’t know if it is Biblical or not, and don’t care to know for sure until I can see for myself (at which time it won’t matter), but I like to believe that when animals die they too will go to Heaven.

The Bible talks about how happy we will be and how there will be no tears there. God gave a lot of us a very special heart for animals and I cannot imagine Him not having that huge part of our lives waiting for us in Heaven.

I like to think that when this poor baby passed on, he was greeted by my canine babies and others who went on before him.

I choose to believe when they welcomed him in, they hugged him tight in that special way dogs have. I believe they sniffed his butt and licked his face then I think they took him to see Jesus.

After his hugs from Jesus, I believe all his new friends took him out to the big back yard where there was clean fresh running water and food that never ran out. Then they introduced him to all the humans who hung around all day for no other reason than to scratch his belly and pat his head & give him doggy kisses by the dozens. I believe then as they got ready to settle down for one of their many afternoon naps, they showed him where they keep the treats you don’t have to beg for.

I ache that I cannot hug him and tell him how sorry I am that one of my own did this horrible thing to him.

Treat him special Flopsy and Lady. He deserves it.

Well Shit, Why Didn't I Think of That!?!

Simple ways to get rid of depression!
Stuff we've all heard before.

Click * Here

Some people are so past stupid.

Impossible Questions

My heart is breaking. My shrink says I need to get friends and relatives to stand behind me and to support me right now. (Not financially, but emotionally.) My world isn’t like that. I don’t have anyone like that.

She said she doesn’t believe the counseling is going to change anything in my marriage. She believes it is I who must decide if I am going to be content to live in a brother-sister relationship. She asked me if I like him and enjoy his friendship enough for that to be a reason to stay. She asked me evidently what she thought were several key questions and I guess my answers said to her I will be the one to make this decision.

I am not good at decisions. I can do business decisions well. I can make decisions at work well. I was a good decision maker when under extreme pressure as a cop, but emotional/relationship decisions I have never learned to do. I don’t trust my judgment in those situations.

If I ended this marriage I am afraid I would be consumed with guilt. He is nice. He is very sweet. Very laid back. He has some health issues, some financial woes. I don't know he could make it off one income.

I don’t know who I am. I have always been someone’s mom or someone’s wife. I lived with my parents until I was 15, then with my 1st husband for 24 years then I was alone for 5 months before this one moved in. I've never been alone.

I've never. met. me.

For the source of the picture used above right click on it.

When the Black Dog is Nipping at Your Ass...Again

It is a sick, sore feeling in the pit of your stomach. Not quite nausea, and still experiencing hunger at appropriate times, but not really wanting to eat.

It is a feeling of such weight in your arms and your legs, sometimes just your entire body. Like these body parts will only hold you up a short period of time longer.

It is noticing you haven’t take a deep breath in an hour or more, not since you began staring at the white spot on your computer screen some time ago.

It is realizing you are almost ½ way to work and don’t remember passing any landmarks or going through any traffic lights.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ohhhhhhhh we're off to see the shrinkette, the
wonderful shrinkette of ozzzzzz.

The marriage counselor wants to see me alone this time.
Sighhhhhhhhhhh. I hope she's not gonna tell me I am
weird for being upset about the no sex thing.

Wedding Anniversary & Dust Bunnies

He didn’t remember our 8th wedding anniversary Saturday, but I got a whole lot of house cleaning done.

Lost in Life...and Town

It amazes me how one day I can be almost “highly” normal and within hours feel there is absolutely no reason to continue living.

Yesterday, for the first time in 5+ years, I went to one of our district offices to teach a class to a roomful of supervisors. It went very well. The first 10 minutes or so my shaking was very obvious as I held up the forms I was showing the class, but I was eventually able to stop it.

For weeks I had worried about this class. I had to drive to another city where I am totally unfamiliar with the area. That for one is not something I do well. Then I had the thoughts of actually standing up there instructing the class. I had some serious stomach issues for several days right before the event.

There were 22 supervisors there plus their manager. I used to teach one hour classes in our field all the time, but I haven’t been able to do that in so long because of the extreme anxiety that entered my world a few years ago. Yesterday, however, I taught for exactly one hour and the time flew by. I didn’t hurl nor did I pee on myself. I was so much braver than I thought I would be.

I still could have talked on and on, but the aroma of fresh bar-b-q was taking control of the minds in the room. I was invited to hang around for lunch, but I knew I had reached the limit of my “brave” for one day.

Then there was the trip home. I found my car okay. I had parked on the 3rd floor of a parking deck. What I had not noticed when I parked was that the exit was not near the entrance. When I drove out I was on a different road than when I went in!

That is about all it takes to panic me. I am sitting in the driveway trying to decide which way I should go when I notice a sign pointing to the right and saying ONE WAY. Immediately my decision was made for me.

Needless to say after about 40 minutes of “lost” time, I found my way back here. I was feeling rather proud of myself except for the “lost” part, and began to wonder if I could after all speak in some churches concerning the stigma of mental health, like I feel led to do.

I go through this natural high the remainder of the day at work, and even on my way home. By night however, my mind is back on my marriage and how it seems to be not changing for the better.

By bedtime my mind will not turn off. I lay there and imagine being in a marriage the rest of my life where my husband does not feel passionately about me. Where it seems so not right. I picture my brain like the sun as it circles around the moon (I hope that’s right – I really don’t remember some of that stuff) constantly turning, slow but steady, and for a while there is the good time of the day and then comes the bad time of the day except there doesn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason as to what turns certain areas on or off.

I am looking forward to going back to the counselor next week. I truly want to fix me. I so want to be normal.

By the way, I am teaching another group of supervisors in two week!!

Marriage Counseling Part Deaux (?)

Ahhh... I just had to tell everyone the counseling went better than I expected.


Most of you know I don't mince words. I am not one to stick my head in the sand and pretend a problem is not there. I would rather have a big blow up, get some feelings hurt if necessary (yes, even mine) and settle something once and for all that to avoid at all costs a fight only to have things fester and pop up like an angry zit later.


Well, at counseling that is the attitude I went in with. I just told the lady that I had given up on trying to change my husband and at this point I need help in learning to let go of the anger and resentment that has built up over the last 6 years.


My husband, being the stable, sweet, nice person that he is sat there very calmly while I ranted and raged and sobbed until I had the hiccups. Needless to say there was lots of snot slinging and tear flowing going on. Ever the thoughtful person he, unrolled all 6'5" of himself out of her couch and walks to the desk to get me a box of kleenex. I guess he was afraid I'd use my sleeve.


All in all, it went well. I had some major problems of my own pointed out to me. One of them was the anger and the silence. I tried to cop out by pointint out I didn't turn into a bitch until AFTER he stopped having sex, but you know....being an adult and all I just sucked it up and told myself regardles it still has to be fixed.


Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I love the big ole baffoon. He loves me. I guess you just have to make your choices and choose your priorities stick to them. I'll keep you updated.


On another note....


I was contacted recently and invited to be a part of Wellsphere health blogger community. I gratefully accepted the invitation in the hopes that one of my whiny, depressing posts that I have written will help other people who suffer from Major Depression maybe not feel so alone in their fight.

Wellsphere is not only about mental health though, it has tons of information on other health related issues, such as healthy eating and exercise and memory retention, just to name a few. It is a community type networking website where you can find advice, answers, tips, blogs, friends, motivation, inspiration and support from all over, or from people in your local area, from other bloggers like you and me.

Not sure about you, but I can take all the help I can get. Some of the bloggers I found 4 or so years ago when I discovered blogging have helped me get through some of my deepest darkest "places".

Marriage Counseling

My belly is in knots. I am shaking more than usual. I actually feel naseaus.

"He" and I begin marital counseling tomorrow. I don't know what there is left to say. We've beat a dead horse for 6 years now. On the one hand I want to think it is going to turn things around for us; on the other hand, I sure hate getting my hopes up again.

I read soemthings yesterday that I found on letting go of resentment and anger. I am ready to let these things go. I have felt them and smoked them and ate them and slept with them and nursed them for years and they are consuming me. If you look at it this way, basically, by my being consumed by my anger he has won twice.

I think I am prepared for this all to go either way. Maybe apart is what we need for a while. Financially I don't know how we will do it, but we can I guess. Then I wonder, "Well what if he meets someone else. Will I die? Will that kill me?"

I guess it wont kill me, since I have not been treated like a wife anyway. More like good friends or brother and sister is how we've lived for years now.

I never know how to act in a counselors office. This subject, when it comes up, can become highly combustible. I hope she doesn't get offended at the S*** word or the WTF phrase. I hope I don't hurl.

Psychiatric Patient Dies on Hospital Floor

God forgive us because surely, we don’t know, what we do.

The 49-year-old psychiatric patient laid unattended on the floor at Kings County Hospital for almost an hour before a nurse kicked her to see if she would respond…

Had she been a 49 year old “cardiac” patient would she have laid there?

During that time, two hospital security guards apparently saw her but didn't do anything to help. The first walked by and the second didn't rise from his chair until about 10 minutes later.
The tape shows a doctor walking by as well. He apparently looked at the woman but kept on going.

Had she been a 49 year old “maternity” patient would she have laid there?

The Brooklyn woman died on the floor, but not right away. The tape showed that she moved her legs and even rolled to her side, trying to get up.

Had she been me, or your mother, or your daughter, would she have laid there?

While the videotape showed that she was the floor at 6 a.m., the New York Civil Liberties Union said hospital records were filed stating that she was "awake, up and alert" at that very time.

God forgive us because surely, we know full well what we do.

I too am a psychiatric patient. I have, up to this point in my life, been able to hang on and hold it together enough NOT to have to visit an ER, but if I ever do have to go, even if I completely “lose it” and show my ass, I still won’t deserve this. No one does.

I pray that I never become so cold that I could have walked on.

Bitter, Angry & Lonesome

I have felt rather numb today. It has been a very long day.

Every weekend seems long to me. We went and picked up a few things from the grocery store this morning, came home and had lunch and he has pretty much been asleep since.

Finally we went to bed. I felt alone there. So here I sit. My ideal sleeping arrangements have always been nude and spooning someone. That’s what I did in my 1st marriage for 24 years. This one has no interest in spooning, and I don’t like to be naked in front of him.

I wish I could get in his head. I wish I could know why the sex stopped. I only began gaining some weight (and I wasn’t little when he met me) AFTER he stopped initiating sex. Besides, he has gained a lot too and I still want him. I never thought either of us were shallow that way.

This whole thing is the reason why I can’t sleep nude the way I did all my life. I am ashamed of the wrinkles and the rolls. I have spent 30 some odd years being ashamed of me. Hating who I am and trying to hide myself as much as possible. I despise sleeping with clothing on because it makes me feel constrained yet I do because I don’t want to subject him to my fat rolls and my sagging boobs.

At 47 I am coming to terms with living a life where I am never again going to be touched in a womanly way. Never playing grabb-ass again. No more hugs where the hands go down my waist to caress my bottom.

During the week we’re only really together after we get off work and that only leaves a little while before we go to bed, so I can handle weekdays. Oh but the weekends. I am in the house with him for 2 days.

My sadness with our situation is never more than a hairs breadth from my mind, yet he can go right on as if we‘re the happiest couple in the world. He has not touched me in almost 2.5 years. Before you ask, “Have you told him how much this hurts you?” Yes. Loudly and clearly many times over these 5 years I have told him. I dragged him to a shrink with me and after one visit he said, “I think that helped. I don’t think we need to go back.”

I am 47 years old. My self esteem wasn’t one you would be proud of to begin with, but when I think how my husband of only 5 years doesn’t want me, that’s a tremendously hard slap across my face. There was no sign what-so-ever that he felt this way. He moved in and those first weeks it was hot and heavy on a daily basis. About the 8-9th month, it all went away.

A year ago we even discussed divorce. He never once put up a fight. All he would say was if that is what you want to do then I don’t blame you. Never once tried to talk me out of it. He won’t even try to get back in the habit.

That’s what the books and the shrinks suggest; just do it and the feeling will come back. Yes we have been to doctors as well. It boils down to, for whatever reason he has no interest in sex and evidently my sex life ended as well without anyone even asking me.

I am 47, beginning to go through the peri-menopausal stage, and horney as hell most of the time.

My first husband went through periods where he used me for a punching bag. That hurt, yeah, but this hurts just as bad. To not be wanted. To feel so ugly that he won’t even have sex with me. He swears it has nothing to do with me, but who can believe that? Where there is no real explanation what is one supposed to think. Most women would think the same way I do.

I hate what all this has done to me. I have become a bitter, angry person. I don’t look at him and see love and peace and home. I see someone who got stuck with me and really doesn’t want to be here but for whatever reason won’t leave.

I’m married so I can’t date and go out and just forget things for a while, but I can’t get any kind of relationship like that at home either. Hopelessness – it adds to my feelings of hopelessness.

Split Second Memories

A memory passed in front of my eyes today. It was as real as the poison ivy on my legs.

My mind has not visited there in a long, long time. I have just about trained it to not go in that direction. Seems that area of my past causes bumps and bruises and other assorted boo-boos.

It was a wonderful memory for a moment, until that split second when your mind jumps back off the track to nowhere and you remember that it was only a memory.

It smelled wonderful; tasted delicious. It was just wonderful to every one of my senses.

Some have written that we should not be sad about what we've lost, but happy that we ever had it to begin with. That little ditty, along with the saying, "Abscence makes the heart grow fonder", I think is bulllshit.

Dental Phobia

I cannot ever remember NOT being afraid to go to the dentist. When I was a kid I used to hope we would have a wreck on our way so I wouldn’t have to go.

My dentist growing up was so mean. The room he did the work in was tiny and had one door leading to the lobby and another door leading to the back area. He would walk in and close both doors and I can remember my stomach feel like it was shrinking.

He always hurt me. Every filling, everything he did hurt. Now keep in mind growing up I was not allowed to cry at home. There was (still is) something about crying that would set my mother off. She would get very angry and yell and scream and tell me how big a baby I was for crying “about every little thing”, whether it be a bee sting or a boyfriend lost. I learned very young not to cry.

At this dentist, who I will refer to as Dr. Satan, if I cried he would hold his hand over my mouth and pinch my nose closed and tell me that when I stopped crying he would let me breathe again. Now when I say I was crying, what I mean is that little snuff snuff you get when you’re crying and trying not to. I never cried in such a way that I couldn’t hold my mouth open for him, nor did I make any noises other than the snuff snuff, still he would hold my breath every time.

Once, after my mother and I got back in the car, I told my mother what he did. Her response was, “You better be glad I didn’t know you were back there showing your ass or I would have come back there and whipped you”. I never mentioned it again.

From a child onward, until about 3 years ago, I would get diarrhea and be sick on my stomach weeks in advance of a dental appointment. About three years ago I began getting nitrous when they have work to do. That in addition to the kind understanding dentist I go to, has helped me tremendously.

I had to go this week to get prep work done for a crown. When they walked me back from the lobby, I could tell they were rushed. The dentist came and got me himself rather than the assistant who usually done that. He sat me down and immediately began giving me injections. They had ALWAYS started the gas before the injections, but he didn’t even mention the gas this time. It is written on the outside of my file that I use nitrous, but they never mentioned it, and I felt since they were rushing they must be behind and I didn’t want to inconvenience them.

I will never do that again! I am usually not a pussy when it comes to pain or much of anything really. I am not a scaredy-cat by nature. I am a former cop. When I would go after work I would lie there in my uniform complete with a S&W 40 on my hip and tears would fall down my face. It is something I cannot control. The nitrous however made it tolerable without tears.

This visit was horrible. I laid there for over 2 hours, shaking so hard the chair and tray and everything else shook too. When they were doing the molds, the assistant pressing them in place was shaking from my body shaking. I felt panic coming up in my throat several times and felt I would suffocate. Somewhere inside me I went back to my Lamaze from 26 years ago. It took a great deal of effort (and that is a huge understatement) but I didn’t make them let me up like my brain and body was screaming at me to do.

I have paid for that little bravo since Tuesday. My stomach has been torn up, I have had a headache off and on this entire time, and my back has throbbed. (The back pain is from lying in the uncomfortable and awkward position for so long.. I have 24-7 back pain from two blown discs, but it is manageable – this has been close to not being.)

I will ask for my gas from now on. That is the last time I will allow myself to suffer because I think the fact that they are running behind is more important than my comfort. Hell, I pay extra to receive nitrous that my insurance won’t touch. They say it is “unnecessary”. I know the lady has to sit right there with me the entire time I am receiving it whereas if I am not she can flitter between rooms and get more work done. Tough shit – I’m paying for it. If it is a problem they should not offer it.

I am also making it a point to not listen to the voices that continue to remind me what a big cry baby I am.

Fuck you very much Dr. Satan.

Another Missing Piece of My Heart

Two days ago, my younger dog found a baby chipmunk.

I was getting ready for work when I heard Luke barking and carrying on like a mad-dog on crack. Pulling my gown down as far below my ass as it would go, I went to see what he was throwing around and jumping at. When I saw the little creature, I picked up the mad-dog and took him in the house, grabbing a paper towel on my way out.

I picked him up with the paper towel, (because you KNOW Bounty is tuff), not knowing what it was or how it might react to me. The poor little thing was soaking wet, cold as ice and bleeding from somewhere. For several hours I assumed he was a squirrel. In the shape he was in you couldn’t tell. You could tell he was a baby, though his eyes had opened and he did have all his fur, he was still very young.

I didn’t want him to die in the cold grass all wet and scared and alone so I brought him to work with me along with an eye dropper I keep around for occasions such as these.

When I got to work I mixed up a little warm water with sugar, just to see if he would take anything. He was so cold. The only way I could think of to warm him up was to stick him down in the empty space in my bra cup (doesn’t everyone have a bra that doesn’t fit properly) but my boss didn’t know I had an animal at my desk and I was trying to keep it that way. Then it occurred to me…my FOOTWARMER!

I keep a foot warmer under my desk, because although I am the queen of hot flashes, they only affect me from the ankles up. My feet, on the other hand, tend to get chilly from the fact that I keep the ac turned down to 40. So into the nice and cushiony foot warmer he goes.

About two hours later I take him out to offer more sugar water. He barely sips a drop or two, but he is looking better. He is almost dry and I can tell I was wrong about him being a squirrel.

For 56 hours I kept Chip with me. I bought enough puppy replacement formula (suggested on every website I found pertaining to abandoned or injured baby animals) for 100 more Chips and was giving him that every 3 hours. He was looking better a little at a time. This morning, he actually jerked his little head up and looked at me and grabbed the dropper with his two front paws and sucked like there was no tomorrow. When I got him out 3 hours later, he didn’t look too hot. Wouldn’t take any formula.

I kept him in my lap after that and just 20 minutes ago, he died.

I have questioned whether it is good or not that I have this “thing” about animals. I absolutely cannot leave an injured animal. All my life when I have seen a turtle in the road, I have to pull over, get out, pick it up and move it to the grass so it won’t get run over. I made my former husband pull over once when I saw a dog on a chain and it had some kind of bucket stuck on its head.

He was a big dog, and dogs kept on chains out in the yard can get mean because of the sheer misery of being lonely, (please, if you can’t keep your dog inside, don’t get one) but I could not keep going and not try to get that bucket off. It was hot and the poor baby couldn’t even get a drop of water.

So husband #1 pulled over and I walked real slow up to the dog, telling him how I was his friend and please don’t bite me when I pull the bucket off and if he felt he had to bite me to please not bite me in the face.

I pulled the bucket off and threw it away from the dogs’ reach and ran like a bat outta you know where back to my car.

When I was very small I used to just cry and cry at the movies when the cowboys would get shot and cause their horses to fall down. My mother would get on to me and fuss that I “care more about the animal than the man who just got shot”. (Don’t ask me to make sense of my mother.)

It is not that I cared more about the animals; or then again maybe I did. My pets were the one "constant" and safe thing I had in my life growing up. Besides, I figure people have a mind and can take care of themselves and not put themselves into precarious situations. Animals for the most part depend on us to help them be safe.

I guess it goes without saying that I have a special place in my heart for animals. All of them. Animals know it too. Not trying to sound like a Dr. Dolittle here or anything, just saying that animals will take to me in situations where nobody else could get near them. I’ve seen this happen many times over in my life.

I am so sorry my dog found this beautiful creature. I had picked him up out of the wet grass that morning just so he wouldn’t die alone and cold, but I guess that part of my heart kicked in without my even wanting it to.

Brains That Lie

Edwin Leap wrote a wonderful post about the patients he sees in the ER who suffer from depression.
Find it here http://edwinleap.com/blog/?p=158

He has written several posts about this subject...about the people like me who live in "this world". His posts are so accurate as to the thoughts that go on in our heads, it is amazing.

I personally have never been to an ER because of my depression. It is not because I have not felt I needed to though. As I have gotten older, the depression has grown so much larger.

It is almost totally consuming now. So far I have held onto my job. I am fortunate that I work in an office with only two other people, so when I cry and absolutely cannot make the tears go away, I don't have to try and hide too much. I worry about my job though. It is getting more and more difficult to concentrate on what I am doing. Without my job, I am not sure what I would do.

For me, and many others like me, the meds stop working after a while. In my case, the meds stop working after a shorter and shorter period of time now days. It is exhausting to even think of going back to the shrink and telling him they no longer work. I feel as if I disappoint him when I tell him that. I fear seeing a look of anger on his face.

When you see my type walk through the doors, or you see them in the church, or beside you on your job, try to remember this is not something we asked for. We are not weak. We are not lazy or just wanting pity from anyone.

I remember when I was very first prescribed Prozac back in 1992. It was a miracle. It didn't make me happy. It simply made me me again. That's it. It worked for over 3 years. I have not been in that good of a shape since.

During the rare good times, I remind myself that just like it comes, it will go away again even if for only a short time, because when I am in the midst of it there is no thinking straight enough to remember.

I keep a little card on my desk that says, "Remember that if you ever feel like killing yourself, it is your brain lying to you". That simple sentence has helped me more than you can imagine. Maybe if you ever run into someone like me, you can tell them that.