Couldn’t Help myself…

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2012 recap

I’m still not in a writing mood. though I think it is important to take a look back over 2012 as it draws to a close. I don’t really have a positive outlook going into 2013, since so much is up in the air. Too many possible disasters looming to think all will be wonderful. Nope, I’m thinking it will be more of the same. Some okay periods with a rough patch here and there. I think I need to maintain by just putting my head down and taking each day as it comes. I don’t think it makes much sense to look too far ahead, it only causes much disappointment and anxiety.

Needless to say, looking back over 2012 there are a lot of ups and downs. Some medication changes, and the addition of modafanil. I think it was a positive and has definitely allowed me to do more. More energy, and it helps with motivation.
I’ll try to piece together the year as best I can. I know the New Year was a boring one, and last winter was a mild one for us. Seems it was a mild one for me based on the mood charts. In fact my mood was pretty elevated for a period in March but came back into the middle for april. My partner had her surgery, and it was a lot of stress at home. The remarkable thing is my mood held up thru the winter. I was doing my lightbox ( I think ). The major shift started in May and continued a downward trend into June. We did the psychopharm consult and started the Provigil the end of June. The shift in mood was pretty rapid. The trend continued into late July, stress and life interfered and we increased the Provigil. The mood fluctuated up and down by the day, but mostly within reach of the middle ground. There were non-functioning days in there, but for the most part they did not string together. By late August that all changed. Life, the farm, the IRS and major horse disasters coupled to crash the mood. That probably combined with the changing season to create the depression I was staring down. September was hair-raising in places, but overall it was just depression and stress. My partner returning home and leaving me alone caused some serious scary moments of impulsive suicidal ideation I had not faced in a long time. It came on fast and hard. I had not dealt with that degree of impulsivity, not since I was younger. I held on, somehow and survived that week. October started off in the same overwhelmed depressed state, but shifted mid month. A drastic shift. I’ll have to read back thru the blog and see what was going on, since I know part of it was Tough Mudder, but I’m not sure if there was anything else. Polo started up, and I finally decided to go back and play. Early November was decent except for the back issues. Mid November brought irritable mixed periods during the period I was taking steroids,followed by the epidural. The gun episode and the free fall was the last week. Early December was the hospital, followed by a rough couple weeks home. Losing our old dog and dealing with family crap. This past week has come back toward the middle. So I seem to be ending the year like I started it, right smack in the middle. Not good, not bad. I could be better and it would help, but I am okay with where I am. I am functioning. It is okay. Looking back over the year helped, since it seems in by brain to be all crap for 12 months. It wasn’t. On the whole it was better than a lot of years I have had. The most memorable are the two different suicidal periods, mainly because they were so fast to come on, and so brutal to hold off. That is different. Least in my mind it is. In the shadow of those episodes it is hard to see the okay periods, or the terrific October and Tough Mudder. Seems it is so easy to lose sight of the good when the bad is so terrifying. It looms so large. I need to find a way to amplify the good so it holds up against the rough spots. We know we can get me thru them. It may not be pretty, and it may feel terrible, but we did get thru it. Need to keep that in mind heading into the new year. Looking toward 2013, I think we will have the same pattern, and that is okay since the good balanced with the bad, and I survived. We need a 2013 like that. a steady balance and keeping myself fit and pushing onward with treatment. We know things will happen. Probably awful things, but that doesn’t mean I need to worry. Each day will come, and the sun will rise and set. what happens in the middle we cannot control. It is the future. what I can work toward is finding the balance and checking my reactions. I don’t need to be perfect. A bad day can just be a bad day, no more no less. I have to keep that in mind. It is too easy to get so involved in focusing too much, holding a microscope to every emotion and every shift in mood. That is not living, that is reacting. There is a spot somewhere in the middle and I need to find it. My goal in 2013 is finding the middle. My safe place. It doesn’t need to be happy. The vast majority of the planet isn’t happy. Why make a goal that is not attainable? I’ll settle for coping. That is good enough for me. I’ll follow-up tomorrow with my solid actual goals for 2013.

No writing

Haven’t much felt like writing. I don’t think that is for any particular reason, just needed a break. I’ve been trying to get back into a schedule. It has been so all over the place. I don’t know why it seems so hard. A lot has happened and I’m sure one could cite those reasons. Seems I am resisting settling back in.
Think I need to ponder it a bit more. Off to run in the snow.

Fin Whale

An emaciated fin whale washed up off of Queens today. Most people wouldn’t think twice about it. No more than a curiosity to so many passers-by. But I sat watching the news and my mind traced back over all the years whales were a part of my life. I know, most people never think about whales, let alone touch them. I grew up living and breathing whales. I knew all the varieties, and could demonstrate how a baleen whale sifted the copious amounts of plankton from the sea. Pieces of baleen hung on our walls. I could tell you where narwhals were found and that some even ended up with two tusks. I still have a Narwhal tusk in my home. It has a place in my living room. It isn’t the magnificent 8′ tusk that was in my childhood home, but it is no less majestic. I was taught everything about these incredible mammals from my father. At the time he was one of the only vets in the world treating and researching whales. I loved them, as I loved him. We shared that. I sat at the edge of my recliner watching the news, noting it was a fin whale. I knew that because of the smaller size, though in shape it is much the same as the enormous blue whale, the largest whale in the ocean. This little whale lay listing in the shallows all of its ribs protruding. A whale’s ribs never show. This was a sick starving creature. I thought about the spring of 1981, when I met Physty, a 25′ ailing young Sperm whale of the coast of Long Island. He too lay listing in the shallows. Physty was dying. We all knew that. People sat vigil and prayed for him. All the while my father struggled in those frigid waters trying to get antibiotics into that whale. They eventually succeeded and Physty returned to the wild. That is what my dad did. Crazy, huh. yeah, his life was flying to one stranding after another. Figuring out why these massive creatures threw themselves upon beaches to die. There were no answers back then. These days the field has come so far. Specific response units exist just to deal with strandings. Even if the whales have no chance of survival, their death is studied and data complied so that maybe the next will have a chance. Aquariums around the world have learned a great deal from all these years of studying sick and dying whales. I didn’t know it back then, but my father was beating a path thru virgin jungle. It was just guessing and trying different things. I was along for much of that journey. A whale will never be just a whale. The whale is so deeply intertwined with my father, and the trajectory of his life. He was busy studying whales, and traveling those years before his accident. The small plane he was in was flying a test flight with equipment for his next trip to the great white north chasing the illusive narwhal. That trip never happened, the Narwals continued hunting off the Baffin islands while he lay in a hospital bed comatose. That pursuit of the whale came to a stop for a while, though he never lost that passion. Our house held every manner of whale object, from massive vertebra mounted on stands in the yard (talk about getting shit from the other kids, try have whale skeletons in your yard), to the sperm whale teeth, or the beautiful tusk. They all had places amongst the Inuit art he brought back when his hunts for the Narwhal were over. I keep a number of pieces in my house, and find them each comforting reminders of the best part of this difficult man. Regardless of all he has done wrong, at the end of the day he was a dreamer. No dream too big, no adventure to grand. He is one of a kind, those whales remind of that. Watching the news I thought about him and just how much he has given to this world. Watching that dying whale rekindled all those wonderful memories.

Christmas morning

It is the wee morning hours and sleep is ilusive again. Guess the shifting mood and irritability have washed over. So I find myself searching for sleep, but finding none. It was only a matter of time before all this shit of the past couple weeks caught up to me. The silence of the ┬áhouse and the blowing snow tapping at the siding is my only company. Just me and my thoughts. I can’t even begin to put words to them. It isnt even all that much thought, just a deep sense of sadness. Can’t even get a handle on where it starts and ends. Not really all that strange considering the events and stress. There is so much I wish was different but ┬áthis is my life. It is what it is. In a few hours my day will start like all the others before it, I just hope this mood improves. I may well have to go to the park for a run, not sure I can stomach the day otherwise. The thought of a quiet snow covered trail is so inviting, especially since I haven’t moved in days.i will have to make like all is well and visit with family. It gets old making small talk with people maybe it will be a good day, least for a run anyhow

Christmas Eve

I’m not even sure why I am writing this evening. I’m in a nasty mood. Can’t wait for this fucking holiday to be over. Hell I’ll be happy when this year ends. 2013 has to be better. I’m just going to stop writing since I don’t even have the energy to rant. fuck it. Maybe some time with the ponies at night check will improve my mood. 50 lbs of carrots makes for some happy horses, if only it was that easy to make me happy.

Almost Christmas

I think I am officially stir crazy. or is it cabin fever? ah hell, whichever it is, I’m not amused. I have really made an effort not to expose anyone else to this flu. I have frantically wiped down every surface with clorox wipes in hopes of sparing my partner the joy of this one. I really missed polo yesterday, but it would not have been fair to everyone and it really would not have been a good idea to spend hours out in the cold. I’m almost at the point I can convince myself I need to do things, but when I start it quickly becomes apparent I am still under the weather. I tried to help with night check, but barely made it up the hill. I’m staring at this house and considering vacuuming. I can probably tackle that for a little while. I just want to do something! Anything. Considering cleaning is my least favorite activity I must seriously be a little stir crazy. I desperately want to run. That would be a terrible idea. I just feel like a sloth after 5 days of no real activity, unless one counts sleeping as sport. I have slept more in the last week than I can remember. It is frustrating as hell, since all I want to do right now is go right back to bed. I am trying no cold medicine this morning to see if I can get a sense of how good/ bad I am feeling. Pretty clear the plague is still alive and kicking. STOMP. STOMP. Pissy. I have so much shit to do. I’ll try some more rest today and hope tomorrow will be better. I was feeling a bit optimistic this morning, but I just don’t have it in my to put up a tree and decorate. All I had to do was look at the tree stand and all hope of accomplishing that task just vanished. I’ll have to stick to my goal of vacuuming (after a nap….). Soon it will be Christmas eve in our undecorated, very dirty home. bah humbug.

The Christmas that wasn’t

The days are ticking down to the Christmas that wasn’t. As I have written before I have a fairly mixed feelings about the holiday, however it is still a holiday. This past month has slid by, alternating between disconnection, and emotional upheaval. I could be honest and say the disconnect is far preferable. It just doesn’t work, and it doesn’t hold. It is sad. Days have passed, things have happened, one right after the other. None of them good. Not a single good thing. I’m trying to just move past this month. I can’t help but feel a bit sad as we close in on Christmas. Regardless of how much I bitch about the holidays my heart always feels a bit heavy when Christmas falls apart. This year seems like it will be like so many other fucked up holidays. I didn’t plan to get messed up with the steroids, or spend the week in the hospital. To be buried up to my ears in an investigation for another week and when that starts to wrap up to get the flu. There was no chance to even get anything Christmas related done. I’m not really welcome at the holiday dinner since i’m still sick. (but I will get a plate of food….) nice huh. Nobody wants the flu. so this is the Christmas that never had a chance, never. It is quite sad. I’m not even sure why it bothers me, but it does. Guess somewhere in my heart this holiday means something, or it is possible that this is just plain exhaustion speaking.
I have had plenty of years when holidays were just meaningless, buried amongst pain and suffering. The ones that come without are a gift to be treasured. This one won’t be amongst them. As much as I’d like it to be otherwise.

$4500

It is two days before Christmas the last thing I want is an IRS letter. Yet there it was waiting in the mailbox. I was truly tempted to leave it unopened. I just didn’t want to know, but part of me figured it might as well get dealt with. Especially because this letter was in the rescue’s name. apparently the 990 form was not completed either on time/ or was missing part A. The IRS then claims a penalty of $20 a day. Note they don’t fucking let you know until months have passed, how that is remotely fair is beyond me. In other words we now owe the IRS $4500 for this incomplete 990. For fuck’s sake. I am actually happy I’m this sick because I think I might implode otherwise. I’m so fucking sick and tired of our god damn book-keeper (friend) and her screw ups. She is a fucking drunk. This wasn’t a problem until more recently, but clearly she fucked up when this filing was done. We are the ones that got burned, not her. She can go back and wallow in that bottle of tequila. I have no use for this crap anymore. She is no longer on the board, and no longer does any book work, but we now have to fix this mess. I can tell you we sure as fuck don’t have $4500 to give the IRS. We need to quickly find a way to respond to this since we have a very short time table to respond to them. This is the last thing I needed. I’m too fucking exhausted. going back to bed. Fuck her and the IRS.