depression

I don’t know about you, but of late, I feel brain dead. I’ve not written anything of note in so long, I’m not sure I even know how to write anymore.

I’ve been in and out of love and heartbreak so many times, with the same person, mind you and at the age of 75 that can be extremely taxing.

I invested in two “mining” sites for Bitcoin and have yet to actually realize any income. Bitcoin is very hard, in case no one has ever told you. Not buying it, that’s easy. It’s transferring back into cash. There’s private keys and upfront fees and penalties and interests and… and stuff. At times I just want to give up. Then, I learn that Bitcoin is lost all the time because people give up and “lost” bitcoin goes to other Bitcoin holders. So I’ve read and so I continue in my efforts.

,I don’t know if I’ve been taken for a ride and perhaps that’s all it’s been, but it seems that just as I’ve paid in my fees, other fees show up and I never see any money, so here I sit, looking at two separate accounts with a total supposed value of nearly $200K, wondering if I’ve made a mistake and should I quit?

I don’t know why, but it’s far more difficult than I imagined.

Then, I fell in love with someone online. Is he real or just a scammer? Well, he hasn’t asked for any money, so who knows? Only time will tell. Maybe he just scams hearts and makes people like me feel valued? I haven’t decided on that either. I didn’t know I could feel this intense about anyone. From almost the get go, we seemed to be on the same wavelength and it felt pretty doggone nice. I don’t recall having ever felt this way about anyone. Ever.

For those of you coming in late to the drama I call my life, I’ve been married three times. The first marriage was a shotgun wedding due to the fact that I’d been date raped and ended up pregnant. Because the young man had a prestigious occupation, he didn’t want to lose his job for his less than honorable behavior, so he took responsibility. Shotgun, because when I refused his proposal, he went to mother and they ganged up on me. How do you hide a pregnancy? It was a different time then.

My second marriage was an act of rebellion and pride. My young suitor was 10 years younger, a virgin and his parents despised me. The more they fought us, the more we fought them. I wasn’t too bright in those days. Marriage three was a result of the #1 and #2 failures plus guilt. He was 13 years younger. I liked him very much. He was my friend and confidant and both of us married on the rebound figuring we got along fine, so why not? Guilt came in to play because we were sleeping together and that wasn’t the “example” we wanted to set for my children. Big mistake. So many things went wrong after that.

As you all may know, I lost my sister last year and not surprisingly, I’ve been quite numb about it. I hadn’t had my full on cry until recently. There have been moments where I thought the dam would break and it was always in the midst of another trauma, like a divorce, my brother having a stroke, or me plateauing on my quest for thinness. (see below) Disappointingly, I’ve been stuck 10 pounds shy of my intended goal. It’s only 10 pounds and I can’t seem to get there. Oh well.

What has kept me sane during this time is walking and taking pictures. I averaged about 3-4 miles a day, up until recently, that is. The hurdles keep coming.

I had intended to walk 75 miles for my 75th birthday. That didn’t pan out, as it would have taken a full two days and I think it was a bit much. Instead, I revised it to 75km, which would have been approximately 30 miles? I managed 15 miles instead, but I’m proud of that as I was carrying a heavy backpack which I hadn’t considered would change the dynamic of my stride and stamina. You may remember I did the sky diving thing, but I had a partner for support on that one. Each year I challenge myself with something new. I skipped last year, as did most people.

I had originally thought to do a K-pop video, but somehow gyrating in front of a camera wasn’t my thing even though I’m quite capable of doing the moves. At least some of them. Part of my reason for changing my mind on that had to do with me seeing an old Italian woman on TikTok doing a self video of herself, gyrating, half naked, in front of the camera. Some people dissed her of course, but many applauded her as well and even though I admired her gutsiness, I didn’t want that image of me pervading the internet, so I opted out of that choice. No, no, no! Not for me. I’m far too vain to subject myself to that.

So, I’m back to writing.

I’ve cycled in so many ways the past year and I’m not even sure I like the new me. I’m still on this journey of self discovery. Who would’ve thunk it at my age? I guess, wishful thinking and regret can come at any age.

I think and wonder if being alone all the time hasn’t played a big part in what I’ve been going through. Was it a byproduct of Covid? I don’t know. Maybe it was a combination of things. Seeing my sister give up on life and knowing how she never realized any of her dreams before she died, depressed me. And, there, go but I. I stayed in a marriage, I’d contemplated leaving almost constantly and instead continued settling because it was the road of least resistance. I mean he’s a “good guy” and we never fought. I realized it was because I didn’t care enough to fight. Sad. Doing anything else would require considerable effort. I guess I was lazy? Plus, there was always something else going on that took priority. I didn’t have time for my wants and happiness, so they took a backseat.

I have, my whole life accepted and paid the price of my choices or lack thereof. When I say accepted, I mean, I fell into doing what was acceptable and to please others. Like I said, I had a rebellious moment or two along the way, but I would always give into what others dictated for me. I dawned on me this past year, how often I’ve put my life on hold for others, so they could be fulfilled and I began to wonder, what about me?

A part of me feels guilty to want new or better, something others may not feel I should. I sort of feel that way about the guy I love, but damn it, I’m putting my life on hold again!

Then there’s the supposed money sitting in Bitcoin heaven… or is it hell? Is the reason, I’ve not seen anything because I don’t “deserve” it or is there a higher power telling me I shouldn’t? I’ve lived with a lot of God guilt in my time, but as one person told me, you can’t put guilt if guilt is not there. Raised to feel guilty when I don’t need to is a hard habit to break. I know God wants good things for us, so that’s not it.

I think in part I’ve had so many years of indoctrination that I psychologically resist having things go right for me. I’m not supposed to “want” or desire for anything more than what I have.

So I’m brain dead. Numb.

I’ve lost my direction and don’t know what to do about it, so I pray. But… I kinda forgot how to I guess, because I’ve not gotten an answer yet.

Or maybe, the fact that I’ve not succeeded in those quests is my answer? See?

There I go again. I’m the queen of self sabotage. GUILT! ARGH

35 pounds thinner and very tan.

When I moved to Alabama some 15 years ago, I had no idea what I would be faced with. When hubby and I left Colorado, we thought our stay would only be about two or three years at most.

Daddy’s wife had passed away and he was showing signs of melancholy. We thought we’d go for a time to cheer him up. Mother was not that far away, only about two hours north in Nashville. Even though I was born in Alabama, I’d really never live there for any length of time. Hubby worked from home and we’d visited Dad several years before and he liked it there, so we thought, why not?

Our Alabama Home – Mom is in the window somewhere.

Well, we were there nine years.

Daddy seemed to be doing fine, but the following summer, mother’s husband had died at her feet while watching TV. She had Alzheimer’s and could not be alone. So, we brought her down with us and for a short time, she came to live with us and Daddy again after some nearly 50 years. That did not work. So we put her in a very nice assisted living facility in Birmingham for awhile, until other arrangements could be made. I was busy, working, prepping her house to sell, getting formal custody of her, trying to get VA benefits and a whole mess of other things. Half the time, mother didn’t know who I was and when she did, it was either curses and sit down strikes.

Eventually, my sweet sister who recently passed away, came up from Florida to help me and we were able to bring mother home. We bought a two story house, really neat, that was perfect. Downstairs was outfitted with safety features for mother, locks for escape prevention and danger. No stove knobs, locks on fridge and all kinds of gizmo’s that we had social services approve of before she could be allowed to leave the facility. My sister lived in the upstairs apartment and had daytime duty. I worked and took night time duty. Hubby stayed at our regular home, one we had bought before all hell broke loose, at least until we sold that.

Daddy, in the meantime, didn’t live from that home and we learn his cancer came back. He didn’t let us know right away though. It was rough.

Dealing with VA, courts, and well, everything imaginable such as mother hiding things in the toilet and stopping up drains, calling out the plumbers, pacing nonstop, screaming abuses, telling hubby, to “watch out for her, she’s a slut!” was painful. I was on an emotional roller coaster and no matter how many people told me it was the dementia, it didn’t help. For one, she was like that before. Once when my brother was visiting, we left Daddy in charge while we went to Trade Day. She decided to get stark naked and lure him to bed. We found him standing at the back door facing away from the house. It was kinda funny actually – seeing daddy like that, I mean. In the meantime, she had no clue and had forgotten what she’d been about and was now trying to figure out the shower when I found her. Like I said, no knobs, so she couldn’t accidentally hurt herself. So that was my life. Each day was an adventure and one never knew what another day would bring.

As I mentioned, I worked. I had a long, but pleasant drive, 38 miles each way. Each day, depending on how things were going at home, I would scream, cry, sing Amazing Grace along with Il Divo or pray all the way to work. God and I had some mighty fine chats and rants. He didn’t care if I cursed at Him for the burden I was shouldering, He took it rather well. By the time I arrived to work, I’d be at peace.

On my way to work each day, I was fortunate enough to be traveling through small towns and farmland. At least my travels were beautiful and peaceful. I’d often pass a few cars going in the opposite direction. One blessing sent my way was the Cadillac. That’s when I noticed the Cadillac man. Each day, he’d wave as I passed. At first, it was nothing more than the common farmer one finger wave, later it would become the half hand over the steering wheel wave and once when one of us had either been away a few days or something, it would be a full on wave, like “happy to see you again”. Sometimes, he had an older woman with him and at other times a small child. Mostly, he was alone and each day we got to looking forward to seeing each other.

I remember telling my sister about him and we would make up stories about who he was, what he did and where he was going each day. I even wrote a short story about how he showed up suddenly at the open house of our little coffee shop/bookstore/tea house, that she and I had always dreamed of having. He was either a doctor, lawyer, an architect or some such. It was always comforting knowing he would pass me by each day just before it was time to come into the clinic I worked at. I think God put him there just for that. After I got transferred closer to home, I saw him only now and again, as his route went through the town I lived in, but he didn’t know me outside of my little red car, so he never waved. I did get a closer look and he was an older gentleman and I wondered if he missed that little red car that used to pass him by each day.

The Tesla.

Now I have a Tesla man, only I’m not sad or depressed, but… he is still inspiring. My Tesla man is a young man, who waves each day as I pass by on my walks.

I need him right now. A couple of months ago I determined to be in the best shape ever for my 75th birthday, so I committed myself to walking, since gyms were closed. Each year, I give myself a new challenge. Last year I jumped out of an airplane. This year, I will do hang gliding and by my next birthday the video. Unfortunately, I tend to lose interest in any regular exercise routine and as luck would have it, my knee gave out and the pain has been at times debilitating. Good excuse to quit, right?

No! Not good. Not good on two counts. One, I could be crippled and two, my project would be impossible to achieve. As it is, the elaborate moves I had in mind have to be modified. My goal when I started out was to trim down, so I could do an energetic dance video, beginning with showing the process from out of shape to in shape and then the routine. If my legs don’t work, there’s no video. Getting out each day at Odark hundred was going to be challenging enough. This could have been the end of that dream, except for the fact, that my Tesla man, whether he knows it or not, keeps cheering me on. His waves, not unlike the Cadillac man’s are my hope and inspiration to keep at it. I know that at 7:30 am each morning, just like the Cadillac man, he will pass, smile and wave. I just can’t let him down. Like the Cadillac man, we will probably never meet, but it doesn’t matter. It’s my catalyst, my impetus and hope, giving me the determination to keep at it.

Maybe I’m his too. You know, I was thinking, and perhaps it’s worth pondering over, but none of us knows how a small gesture like that can inspire or comfort someone we don’t know or may never meet. Think about that.

I’m sure these two guys have no clue.

For all I know, the Cadillac man had a failing wife or aging parent he had to take into the city for treatments too.

Maybe the young Tesla man, has a frustrating, high pressure job and wishes he could be out walking too. My smile, my wave, who knows? They may help him start his day as well.

One never knows do they?