A LONG WAY FROM HOME
I can’t describe it any other way than a moment of Zen. At least that’s the way it felt, from falling down the deepest chasm only to rise out and above to new heights.
I have to capture this event while still fresh, wishing only that I had managed a picture, but it was too fleeting. My iPhone lay on the table in front of me, but using it would have broken the moment.
I regret the above photograph is not mine, but rather came from Shutterstock under license.
Continue reading “For A Minute There”(Author’s Note: I’m posting this one on my own, partially because my editor is enjoying 3 weeks in Bali, and I would never bug her. The other reason is I forgot to pay her. I have to beg forgiveness. I’m getting worse every day I get older, one more thing I forgot to do.
So please forgive my short-term screwups, typos and run on sentences)
MAID in Canada is not an option for those of us chronically depressed. Not a chance in hell of using that as a solution to mental misery. That is MAID is not an option if mental illness is the only thing that’s destroying your quality of life. I always believed that being clinically and chronically depressed leads to other health issues, as your mind is so focused on being down it forgets the rest of the body. So maybe it’s a moot point.
Parliament recently came back into session this month, and one of the first decisions from the Liberal government was not to expand and extend MAID to those that are suffering from mental health issues only. It was stated to be on an “indefinite hold”.
Continue reading “The MAID is Dead. Clean Up After Yourself.”
I’m trying….honest to god. I’m going to get this done. Depression has consumed me. Eaten me alive. But I keep trying, but even the smallest tasks are difficult.
I tell myself I’m retired, comfortable and have only 1 thing I must do and that’s take care of my two best friends.
Wonder if they talk about me…”Lucy, Dad’s put on some weight, don’t ya’ think?”…”Yep, and what’s with the buzz haircut?” she replies to Mister Blu.
Continue reading ” Spirit Animals, Random Thoughts and Sleepless Nights”I’m overly frustrated today, as I find myself exhausted and down. A funk has set in, the shadow of a cloud is once again hanging over my head. Maybe it’s a reaction to lack of sleep for the next two nights, as restless legs have been keeping me up until 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning before I finally fall asleep. My body aches, but at least I’m not sick, meaning my gut seems fine.
Mrs. Kyd has been traveling, and during our nightly call I told her I could feel my depression coming on and that I was feeling down for no specific reason. Is it this unbearable lengthy winter we’re experiencing, or the loneliness I go through when she’s traveling? I don’t think so. Seasonal Affective Disorder? Hmmm…it certainly plays a role, but don’t think it would cause such ups and downs.
I’m stuck on this ride and can’t get off. I’m trying real hard…inside…to turn things around.
I have been unable to post or write anything. Which is frustrating in itself, just adds to the pile. I have to remind myself that writing while in the deepest throes of depression may be a way out. A way off this ride.
Don’t expect much, because doing anything while suffering from depression is getting to be damn difficult.
“In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, until in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God”. –
From the play Agamemnon by Aeschylus, 458 BC.
The two types of pain, one being physical, the other from the heart. Although the physical pain becomes overwhelming at times, beyond my capabilities to endure, it pales in comparison to the mental anguish we all may have to bear.
Broken heart. I don’t know when mankind started associating our souls and life with the heart, although it does seem to be accurate. Broken heart, heartache, makes no difference, but everyone understands that pain. Heartfelt, real honest. A pain so deep you swear it will kill you at times.
Continue reading “Another Dream , Another Day”(Author’s note: after reading and re-editing this journal entry, I debated about posting it. Why? Because I feel that I should be stronger than I am, somewhat embarrassed at myself for what I deem to be a weakness in character. By posting, I’m allowing myself a little grace, correct? That’s what I’ll take out of this.)
There’s an old saying from where I call home, in the form of a response to the age old question “how ya doing?”.
“I’d have to get better to die.” Meaning you’re so sick or tired or depressed you’ve gone past death. That’s about as bad as you can get.
Continue reading “The Resolve”It’s my own damn fault, I stepped on the scale. I knew I shouldn’t. The end result has been the almost predictable downward spiral, where 4 days later I’m back to normal. Normal meaning no sleep, more pain, and depressed with a capital D.
All because of weighing myself? You bet. Nothing is more depressing than dieting. For a chronically depressed person dieting is about the dumbest thing to attempt.
I am in the midst of writing my philosophy and views of being a trans person in a non-accepting world. Marginalized. What a laugh.
But I am also in the midst of a slide, I think spiral is a more fitting word, into another bout of depression. I need to keep track of this quagmire I’m sinking into, in case it evolves into something out of my control. It’s difficult, but it requires a subjective review of myself. Step outside and look in. My vision is clouded looking out at the world.
So I am writing about depression, in hopes this time I can rise above it on my own. See it for what it really is and turn the course. I am learning how, I think, hope. I’ve been dealing with depression long enough to know the signs of its start, but don’t fight back.
Continue reading “Learning to fight”I receive the New York Times every Sunday so I can take a stab at one of the most challenging crosswords that they publish on the last page. For one, it’s sort of a bragging right if you can complete them, they’re at times extremely clever and difficult. For another, I hope doing this crossword, even though frustrating at times, will help ward off senioritis. You know, growing old and letting your mind go to waste.
A few weeks back, I was struck by an article published June 1, 2025 and actually read it prior to flipping to the puzzle on the last page. The article concerns MAID, or Medical Assistance in Dying. In a nutshell a doctor helps you in committing suicide. No other way to describe it.
Paula Ritchie as photographed by Oliver Farshi
Continue reading “A Must Read on MAID”