Comforting article on the new "Lows of "Depression"

This has been one of the worst few days of my life.  Period.

Why?  Time.  That is the perpatrator pf my depression.. "Some", maybe not "significant", time has passed since Lily left the her side of the bed (from where I am currently typing this post).  With all of the sick days/weeks she used to stay at home, then the multi-doctor appointment days I took off to be with her, many with her parents and a handful without.

Then the days off in between doctor days when medication were being tried and "someone" had to watch her the whole day at home.  Same for the first two surgeries, the first one being about a week at home  and watched, and the latter, only about a sad 2-hours at home.

After that, she entered the hospital and would never come out.

In retrospect, I did not think that day of admittance (not counting the hospice hospital) would be the official start of her life ending.  That on that day, the doctors would abandoned all treatment.  That on that day we were told she'd be there a few days, which stretched into over a week.  

The fantasy of her last day in a hospital and returning home happy had passed in that span.  Probably in the middle.  About day three.  That's when the doctors' demeanors started                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          v changing and while the words "cure" or "good as new" were never spoken (nor were we expecting them to be said) you did have a grain of sand of hope.  Of a year.  Maybe 6 months?  Lily was told it was almost a guarantee she would see Christmas.

Looking back, the odds were probably millions to one.  Billions to one.  Like the lottery.

But I used watch tv at night when she was sleeping in the hospital next door.  Knowing that she was geographically close, helped.  Back then, I would talk to the girls in bed (face to face) with just the blue glow of the TV and say:

"Mommy's gonna come home," to Lucy.
"Penny, yes, you heard that. Mommy is coming home.  Not for a long time but maybe a week?  Who knows?  But SHE IS," and I swear Penny understood me.  Lucy, too.  They knew the word "mommy" and "home" and in that soft blue light, I could their faces look less quizzical and more happy.  Even lick my face,

I swear I could tell.  I really do swear they understood.

I hoped they could, is probably more like it.

Well, those few nights I did that to them turned out to be in vain.  Even though I promised them.

I don't have any quilt over a promise to a dog, but it was a way for me to cope being in the hurricane I was sucked into.

It grounded me.  Gave me hope. Only if temporary or was the size a piece of sand.

It was something.

And it is only now, how much I miss that feeling of hope.  There are a millions quotes that equate life to hope.  And they are all true, I now realize.  I wish dwelled in that feeling, back them.  Savored every minute.  Believing that help me fall asleep. Even though I knew.'

Because when hope is gone - the void is not granular.  It's planet sized.  All-consuming.  Like a super nova.

I sort of wished one of the million professionals that I/we talked to daily,  highlighted that more of that to me.  Not false hope, but...I don't know....extended it somehow..... I am not upset about it but I feel something could improve in the hospital for loved ones watching their person die.

And, as I tend to read a lot now when I get home (as TV seems too silly for no unless it's a medical show or documetary.

And then I stubbed upon this article: "Bourdain, Spade suicides show how even those at the top can know the lows of depression"

And I learned about "hedonic adaptation".  Which, I found very compelling and a little comforting.

Don't let celebrity names dissuade you from reading it.  They are the bait to get you too read a very well written analysis of how we do and don't live properly.  It suggest that this new epidemic of suicides seem to share a theme, which I cited above.

Anyway, it made me feel a bit better......

Leaving at first light....

I was about 60/40 this morning at 4am - in favor of staying at home. 
Especially with P&L snuggled up next to me. 
On our just washed and slightly bleached white sheets.
Snoring. It was perfect. Except...

But that line from Shawshank Redemption entered my head as click’ as its. Rhonda and I quoted it together the hospital.  "Get busy living...or"
So, I sat up in bed. And said “screw it!”.
If this causes pain there is probably some gain, in it too.

So, I fed the girls at 5am, showered, packed, and then was out of the door by 6am.   

By the time I was east of Pasadena on the 210, I felt good about my decision.  
Haley (the back-up dog walker) would be at my house to walk the my girls in a few hours, and then return around 7pm to spend the night.  
I really needed to see if I could handle the separation .  
From our bed.
From our girls. 
From our home.
From even our complex.
Even one night.  

I had a queasy feeling in my stomach since until I got to Pasadena..  Then I started to sort of enjoy the ride.

I enjoyed the solitude of the desert.  For about 2 hours, more. Then I thought, what am I doing?  I started to feel regret.  That, this is the last thing I need.  More alone time. 

So, as I was too close to Vegas to turn around, I kept going forward.

I am at the NY,NY Hotel & Casino.  I went straight up to my room (I paid for an early check-in) and decided to take a nap.  

7 hours later (11am - 6 pm-ish) I fell asleep. 

I want to jump in my car and drive home but I won’t.  Haley is there.  And I wouldn’t get home until after midnight. 

So, lesson learned.  Baby steps.  And while I thought this was one, it’s too far from home for right now.

I can’t wait to wake up and get in my car and come home.

An unexpected Smile....

First, this is not my bulldog.  I don't know this person, either,  The video showed up in my "you might like" section of Youtube.  Since I generally log into my account for this exact reason.

Big Brother Google ("BBG") does a good job matching what you've watched and algorithmically suggests videos that I often do like, as BBG predicts.

Generally, I will watch one or two.  Rarely, have I shared one with a friend or family member.  And NEVER have I posted one on this blog without a real live person recommending it to me, which has never happened.

I think this has proven to me that "The War"(as Sheldon Cooper frequently mentions) has started.

And the "machines" just earned a point with this video.

And with my tragedy, only roughly two weeks fresh, anything that can make smile or laugh is more valuable a "new anything".

I haven't posted in a while and I forgot how much I enjoy "talking" with you.  So, expect more soon rather than later.

2:30 AM

At least I am waking up later and later. I suspect that speaking on the phone with my boss had, at the very least, subconsciously delayed my regular 2:11 AM wake up time, the time I shared with Lily. Awwww my sweet Lily.

 I think it's two weeks to the day, that she died. Gone. Left the earth forever. I can't believe it.  I am crying as I write this. But my overall sobbing has lessened over the past week. Who cares?  And even that, the latter answer bothers me as I reread it. Not in an irritating way. But in a sad way. I am starting lose her. Really lose her. Just a fraction, but it's noticeable.

And there is NO relief in it. Lily's mom and I had agreed to meet at my house to go over Lily's closets of clothes. There were so many individual pieces, I was 100% out of touch of knowing what she had. My only advice - was to box it up (or better, yet, have The Goodwill or whatever) come to the house and box it up and take away. Perhaps, I would see a homeless woman (or man) wearing something I would recognize.

And it would make me smile.

Her mom was not on the same page. She wanted to go through EVERY piece. Let me say it again, EVERY piece. And then she would decide what to give-away and what to keep, even though she could probably only wear a handbag of Lily's. Everything else was, I don't know, 8 sizes too small. Plus, there's the creepy factor. So, for a few hours, we bagged various sets of shoes, bagged blouses, etc., for about 2-3. Her mom wanted me there to bond over this tragic ritual of death we all have gone through.

I had hoped the small, memory or pattern of something would bring happiness or some sort of closure. It did not. I was so sad after het mother left with a car full of her clothes and then me sitting in an empty bedroom with the dogs' ears pinned back was heartbreaking.

 When Lucy came up to me to lick the tears off of my cheek, I lost it.

 Okay, that's it for now.

Sundays are tough...

The 15:17 To Paris

When I first heard of this movie, I thought that it had everything that I like in a movie:

1) Road trip theme (well, train-road-trip theme).
2) Based on "true events" that I can actually recall.
3) Foreign backdrop (Italy, France, Netherlands, Germany, etc.)
4) Okay, I have to admit, "pride of our countrymen".
5) Directed by Clint Eastwood.
6) Storyline of ordinary people put into extra-ordinary situations that are believable.
7) It actually stars the real life heroes of the event that were involved. A first, I believe, outside of the world of docu-dramas.

 Right out of the starting gate, I was hopeful. As we all knew the story, due to the facts that it all unfolded in front of our eyes due to our and other nation's (BBC, Al Jeezera,, etc.) 24 hour news channels that crave content such as this because we, the people, crave it. There is no mud-slingign here.

(Quick note: This movie review will not contain any spoilers, plot point or any story aspect that would in anyway prevent you from experiencing the movie as unknown entity (other than what you are likely to know because it's in the public domain.

 To further my point, I believe that "trailers" often ruin the experience. As such, I will keenly keep my reviews void of even anything the even trailer might reveal. I will, of course, have to describe some scenes or actors to illustrate a point. But not much more than that.

 The purpose of my review is how I reacted to it and if it's worth your hard earned money and more importantly, your time. The most valuable commodity on Earth.

 Opening shot: Train Station in Europe. The frame consists of following a regular-street-clothing male walking between train tracks tugging roller bag just behind him. It is only until he boards the train does he face the camera. A young middle-eastern man with a beard and sunglasses. Then we cut to a classroom in the United States, where our heroes are having career day.

 Okay. Enough. The stage has been set. That is the first 90 seconds of the film. There are no surprises in the film, nor did I expect any.

 What I did enjoy was the fact that these were the same people who made international new by thwarting a feeble attempt to terrorize France via the the man I described at the top of this review. I was watching more in a "What if I were in one of [the heroes'] shoes?

Would have I done X or Y?

So, while yes, their acting (or lack of it) slightly pulled oneself out of the film. But in the end, I'm truly happy for them.

For the bravery I am not sure I have. My only other "ding" is the overuse of flasbacks. But when all considered, I understood why they were present. It's a 90 minute movie. And they were stretching too get there.

 7/10

I can't say it was good but....

Click here first, then press play [~3min video].

Then the rest of what I wrote will make sense.

I have been reading so much on emotionally breaking down involuntarily, that I’ve aggregated three areas to understand in order to stop, prevent and realize the benefits of crying.  

These were culled from more than one article.  Everyone knows "that time heals all"...but in the meantime, by writing these down, or reading them over and over again, I hope to have them more readily available when the need arises:

3 Ways to Stop Crying once it has started:

A) Walk away: by removing yourself - you can get control of your emotions by physically leaving the area.

B) Use Words: Pause more and choose more concise words to express yourself (ie give your brain a task).

C) Focus or Think about something entirely different.  Preferably, a funny moment you can easily remember.  Visualize it, if possible.

3 Methods to avoid crying:

A) Talk to someone:  A friend, co-worker, etc., before you hit the point of no return.

B) Write it down: Uh-hmmm, exactly what I am doing.

C) Modify You:  Change your thoughts, or patterns of them, by focusing on why they are your triggers.  In other words, intellectualize it as another brain exercise.

4 Benefits when you do cry:

A) It will soothe you when it’s over.  A 2014 Study found that there is a direct link to a self soothing connection which relaxes your PNS (parasympathetic nervous system).

B) It releases endorphins.  Like pain meds.

C) Enhances your mood and releases stress.

D) Fights bacteria as tears contain a fluid called lysozyme.  A 2011 Study found that lysozyme (present in emotional tears, which are different than other tears) had such powerful antimicrobial properties that it could even help to reduce risks presented by bio-terror agents, such as anthrax. 

I obviously didn’t read each study but simply parsed them.

A better day...

Since I can't even fathom what a "good day" feels like, as it's been months.  Today, was definably better than yesterday.  First, as you may have noticed in the photo/youtube clip above this post, is a movie named "Adrift".  I was drawn to it by the title as I once read a book named the same.  Back in 1997 or 1998, when I lived on my first sailboat.

At that time, I couldn't read enough of them.  Any "true account" of a sailing adventure or mishap, I viewed as a "do or don't" guide and the backdrop of being in the open ocean was always attractive to me. Even to this day. Well, after about 20 minutes into the movie, I recalled the story.

Did I like it?  Absolutely!  But there is a caveat.  I had remember the logistics of the events that made it into a book, now movie, but I forgot the minor themes in it.  Namely, isolation and death. On the surface not a great pick-me-up feeling.  But it was. Like the book. And as misery loves company, this film fit perfectly into my recent situation.

The other reason I wanted to see it was to be in a new environment.  Nothing to remind me of Lily.  And it worked.  I got lost in the story up until the very end.  It was playing in a really nice theater only about a 1/4 mile from my house but felt a world away.  Just interacting with the ticket-taking-lady, the refreshment-kid and a lastly, a very nice woman wo was witnessing my extra careful gait while navigating the dark stairs inside the theater.

All of which physically made me feel better.

The second event(s) is that I spoke to my brother, plus a friend called me who I haven't spoken to in months.  While they don't know it, they also broke my daily isolation that I am routinely stuck in.

So, while I can't say that I'm happy at the moment, I am not critically sad.

And that's a win, in my book.

I'm sorry....

I am sorry that I haven't returned a text/voice message.  

I just can't talk about it without losing control.  

I miss her so much.  I miss her a 1000x today.

At night is worst.  

And by night I mean about 4pm (when I usually got home) until the next morning.

I just can't believe how fast it went.

And I will never see her again.

I am getting help, though. 

I hope it works even 1%.

Not Good...

For some reason, I awoke this morning sadder than I have in months. Yes, months.
Including the day Lily got diagnosed.
Why today? I have no idea.
None.
Last night, a dog vs. dog fight was brewing. On the master bed.
I usually sleep on the right side of the bed (when looking at it from the footboard) and Lily slept on the left.

Out of habit (and I think to maintain some sort of sameness) I still sleep on the right.
When Lily started calling in "sick" a lot, she anecdotally told me that she did NOT sleep on her side of the bed while sick.
Instead, she slept right in the middle. 6 o'clock to 12 o'clock. She said it was so much easier.
I didn't pause on it at the time, as there were bigger things occupying my mind.
But last night, like an iron skillet, banged over my head, I thought of Lily's advice.
I maneuvered the two growling-55 lbs- Bullies and did just that.
I scooted myself over to the middle, and positioned each dog with one on my right, other on my left.
They were flanking me.
An lo' and behold, it worked! I couldn't believe it. They nestled up against each of my legs and were snoring (not growling) in just a few minutes. They needed to be touched. English Bulldogs have always been a "pack" dog but since I didn't really see how that trait applied in the real world, I didn't pay much attention to it.

Until last night.

I drifted off to sleep thinking of Lily in this position for weeks at a time. It broke my heart.
As it is now. Which brings me back to feeling sadder than ever.

I wish there was a magic pill I could take that would selectively erase memories. Because as these ones hit me, I cannot only not work but I cannot even function.

I've got to clean up the house, get some groceries, etc., etc. etc., and I'm still in my "jammies" as Lily would say.
Why is today so much harder than the rest?
I am desperately indexing my memory for a trigger that must have taken place earlier but I cannot find one.
The saddest part is that I don't think there is one.
I often think to a quote when I get this down: "Dying is easy, it's living that's hard".

I am going to a support grief support group - mainly spouses who have lost their "other", on Monday. It's being held in a church but I'll go with it.

I am looking forward to it but, to be honest, I am scared. Very scared.

Of what? Not being able to keep it together, mostly.  Embarrassing myself to strangers in my community.  It's being held only a mile or so away.

No pain, no gain, right?

On a lighter Note...

(Updated 4/3/18 - 1:21 pm)

Many moons ago, I had to go through the same task as depicted in the video above (getting a cane). At the end, I chickened out (with Lily's physical help) I chose a nice wood one with a light stain and not the one "House, M.D." choses in this clip.

It turns out that some of that trepidation (if not all of it) evaporated once I learned after my first Spinal Tap and then my surgery rid my need of one.  I thought of Houses' cane.

It obviously was a way to lighten the mood of what was happening to me but it felt a little too confident.

I wasn't there, yet.

So Lily's choice of a nice stain one won.

But after watching this today...I wonder who really won?

Grief...

For those of you that don't know, Liam Neeson (57) lost his wife, Natasha Richardson (46), as a result of a freak skiing accident. 

They were married for 15 years (1994 - 2009), which was up until the day she died.

The above ~5min clip never aired on "60 Minutes".  Why?  Who knows.  Or perhaps, we do.

I was searching online for something related (i.e. grief, spouse, bunnies, spaceships, etc.) and stumbled on to this page.

Interestingly, Anderson Cooper inquired specifically about the grief process, head on. I'm paraphrasing here, but he basically asked the expected "How did you...?" or "When did you...?", blah blah blah.

I do recall that they went through some relatable scenarios in the interview, besides visiting the jumbo-sized ski McMansion in Colorado and (shit! did I just use the word McMansion?) - regarding the pains of its upkeep, even while still being happily married.

The takeaway I got from it is that this area of life (or the ending of it) remains untouchable or undiscussable [sic] in today's America. Perhaps, rightly so. 

Otherwise would the world grind to a halt if everyone indulged into their own personal tragedy?

I read something interesting from the U.N. world analysis of population growth:

Birth Rate	Death Rate
• 360,000 births per day	• 151,600 people die each day
• 15,000 births each hour	• 6,316 people die each hour
• 250 births each minute	• 105 people die each minute
• Four births each second of every day	• Nearly two people die each second

So, two people a day.  Everyday.  365 a year. No holidays.

I guess I did answer my own question as to why "60 minutes" only aired the "grief" video segment at the end.  We, as a species, sometimes have to "sweep it under the rug".

Ignore the signpost just up ahead.

To stay alive.

A lot of