Margm

Gosh Marita, I have reread my post and hope I did not put any thing. I am here only by miracles. I have two bipolar children and have fought suicide all their life. It is a never ending battle. I have had my son tell me he saw no reason to live. I went to my daughter's psychiatrist and told him I was worried about her committing suicide. He told me that if that was on her mind, there was nothing I could do. I sure didn't want to hear that, but he, himself, committed suicide about seven months later. I suffer from chronic depression, from as far back as I can remember. I remember beating myself in the head out of frustration as a teenager, at my mom, and the brush broke. I got fussed at because brushes cost money. My dad most positively was bipolar. He would sit with my son and he said, sometimes the skies are blue and sometimes seem so gray. He used yoga to combat his depression. I had a prescription for amphetamines when they were legal and took them for seven years. The doctor was investigated by the feds (in the office next to where I was waiting for a refill (which I got one time), and then he switched us to something we were not used to so I went cold turkey and nearly killed myself, could have killed Billy and destroyed the house before they hospitalized me. I can remember where I was as a teenager when the feeling would hit me, the feeling of morbid depression, and I could not go around the places when the mood hit me.. Sounds so innocent "mood hit me" but it was not as innocent as "mood" sounds. I would have feelings of death, morbid feelings and when I was hospitalized, I continued therapy with one doctor for 15 years. Antidepressants put me into a "walking dead" mood, but I put up with them for years until I decided even living depressed was better than living dead. I then got cancer, and fighting dying seemed to cure me of any suicide wish, I wanted to live. But when Billy passed away my impulse was to follow him. I made plans, and then in three days after his death, I found this place..Now, I have a granddaughter that I just have to carry on her therapy to make her want to live. Dr. Kevorkian came up with the idea and plan for assisted suicides. If it had been possible to end my father-in-law's pain and my own dad's pain, they deprived them of water or food until they finally died. We treat our animal pets better than we treat our human loves. My dad would have the morphine's Cheyne-Stokes breathing and we had to pray that he would not breathe again, the morphine did not cover the pain. I saw my sister-in-law just wind down like a clock, no grimace, no pain, just sleep, and I wish we all could have seen this in all our loved ones and not the things we have all had to see and try to let our mind keep them in some part of it to save our sanity. My heart is with you Marita. I was admitting to my new GYN doc before the cancer, (it was a GYN doc that got me started on the biphetamines), that Dr. XXX had me on the biphetamines so long and he admitted to me, yes Dr. XXX got a lot of our women addicted to this drug.

We all saw his first pain, and we understood because we all shared it. Then it kept coming on him in not waves but storms he could not contend with and I do not know if I could have either. Those that are left behind, his loved ones, can only ask why. I honestly thought we would lose him in the heart hospital, but he came back and kept getting knocked down. I think the pain sometimes is too much to bear. My heart is with his family, the little grandsons that are left, his son and daughter-in-law who have had to take more pain than any one family ever should. My heart, my prayers are with them and it is so little we can do.

Oh Kay, I knew there was no talking to this person. Have not argued with her before, never will now. But, the hate she spewed toward innocent children made me think it was coming from some demon instead of a friend's sister. I was so shocked I automatically blocked her. My friends do not like my sister's political posts, I have discussed with her how she handles all the bad reports she gets back and she says she does not answer most of them. I have seen her answer some though and if you have ever watched the character Spencer Reid on Criminal Minds, you would know my sister. Her statements are so far above the average man's head that all they can do is say "huh???" But, the one I blocked, I did it so fast I did not have time to think about it. This was pure demon hate coming from what I thought was a Christian woman. She is a couple of years older than me. Something about her always scared me in high school and her sister is not fond of her either, but I sure cannot discuss that with her. When they mention my sister to me I just tell them to block her if she offends them, it won't bother me at all. I hope my friend feels that way toward me, but I won't mention it to her. I am sure her sister will because she was all up in me or my family's posts (except my sister's). I don't like confrontations.

It is like we can do nothing about the situations but sit back and watch. In fact, protecting ourselves still is all we can do. I've tried to explain my feelings and found love is not the answer to so many people and I am not here to judge people, but I find some of my friends are not people I like, cannot change their opinion, I won't try. Just like being from a small place all your life you learn not expanding your horizons from that life, you find people who believed as we did in the 40's and 50's. We just have to take care of ourselves and our own and put the TV remote on channels that will uplift you, because right now, we on this forum need uplifting rather than trudge through the mud of life. Selfish? Maybe so. We do what we have to do and stay away from those that drag us down.

I do not know how others feel about this, but I agree 100% with you. I had to retreat, I had to run away for a time just to protect myself and I begrudged anyone who crossed my borders. Some won't understand, some will, you have to protect yourself right now.

I very much respect your opinion and love to read about the wives of the presidents, and read Teddy Roosevelt until he got too much into politics, but I loved him, so there would be your historical part. And, I do love reading the histories (just not those in the past 75 years). I also respect your job very much. I loved medical transcription and enjoyed the research part that was dictated to me and I really felt I was learning by all they wrote and we got published, but as I age, I have lost faith in the very doctors I worked with, and most have retired now anyhow. I doubt if I could go back and get enjoyment out of it now. This is supposed to be my golden years, but they sure feel tarnished. Billy and I, we never discussed politics. Lots of sports, and I kept an interest in that the same way I did the politicians, about reading about the history. Ana, I admire you very much. (But, I am glad you are not a politician.)

Ana, I am so apolitical that I'm really bad.. I don't like the labels they give and to tell you the truth, my favorite political hero was a governor of Louisiana named Edwin Edwards. He remained my favorite in and out of prison. But, I love you because you are one of us. (Do you really like your job?) I hate this as an analogy, but some people have to be undertakers and some real live Angels have a profession of taking care of dying patients. In all my years of medical transcription I always hated to type the words palliative care. And then in the hospital they mentioned the word palliative care in Billy's care and I felt like someone had slapped me in the face. My miracle was slipping away, still we had a palliative care nurse. There have to be Angels to fill every job, and I would imagine that would include a Political Scientist, though I have not googled this.

Sometimes that is good, sometimes bad. One of my friends must have been told that I blocked the "friend" and I did not advertise it. She mentioned when I died I needed to be able to count my friends on my hands. I doubt I will do that when I die. There will be no funeral, if I'm dead, why should I care? On Facebook, it has become political and I am shocked my "friends" can be so cold and heartless and my own sister is on the other extreme. I am apolitical, hate politics so much, and all they want to do is argue about things that I am shocked they believe in. Or don't believe in. I consider them Christian friends, but with so much hate in their hearts, how can you be Christian? I should not judge, but hate is still hate and directed at innocence makes the people small and petty. At my age, you think nothing would surprise me.

Gwen, your still a young woman. I am proud of you. It is good to have somebody. I blocked a friend on Facebook because of the crude things and hate filled things she said about the border children. I know people have different opinions, but not about innocent kids and animals. I know people cannot have too many friends, but I do not depend on any of my friends to hold me up. I come here. And, my family can be annoying for awhile, but if I didn't have them, what would I have to bitch about?

Jillian, how can we possibly agree with our mate that it is time to go? Billy reached for me, I swatted his hands down in anger for him giving up. He was not supposed to give up. We were going to have a miracle. In our case, it was a miracle. Billy only suffered five weeks. At the end, I should have been holding him. I can only hope his dying brain understood I could not let him go. I had no choice. It was in his and a higher power's hands and that higher power let me know I did not run the show. Losing someone after 54 years together is a terrible shock. Not holding him in his final minutes is my guilt to be in the back of my mind forever. He loved to be just held. My final emotion to him was anger. My friend kept her husband at home after a stroke for seven years. Billy's ego was so traumatized that I would have to do personal things for him that he could not do. I cannot imagine my friend's husband for seven years. My ego allowed Billy to change my colostomy bag they had placed in an odd place, on my back with a tube inserted in a cut down next to the actual opening. Billy changed my bags. Billy emptied bed pans for me years earlier in my cancer treatment. It was lovingly done. My care of him was so loving that I could have carried his over 6 foot frame in my arms. He was my baby to take care of. To him, it was against an ego that was so strong, I had to let him go. My friends husband pulled out his feeding tube, etc. He had taken all his ego could stand. I have often wondered about the male ego against ours. We have to let them go. Rose Kennedy again: It has been said that time heals all wounds. I don't agree. The wounds remain. Time - the mind, protecting its sanity - covers them with some scar tissue and the pain lessens, but it is never gone. Our brains fight to protect our sanity. Sometimes it works. I'm sorry you have to join us, but you glean more from our grief feelings, the length of time, and sometimes our freedoms, if just for minutes. My heart is with you. You have been through a many years battle.

I trust doctors more than politicians, but no, I do not think they listen. I also do not think they read the chart before they see you. Maybe there are still real doctors out there but I went from seeing MD's to seeing nurse practitioners and PA's when I started in with Medicare. And, I am happier. Now, have to say a real surgeon, a historically arrogant surgeon that was required to take anger therapy, he thoroughly saved my life, and I love him, even though he never scheduled a follow-up after he saw I was going to live. Billy had two physicals, not much hands on, but laboratory work twice a year and fell through the cracks that older folks seem to have wider each year. And, that doc realized it and never sent a bill. I would have rather keep Billy, but he was a mistake that did fall through the cracks. They are the doc's, they have the degrees, but you know your body so watch out, be vigilant, we still have to go to them sometimes.

So sorry Kay. In some cases, what doesn't kill us, cures us. My daughter said she was allergic to all these antibiotics and I figured it was my daughter, as usual, dramatizing an illness with real or imagined issues. I saw them come into her hospital room, give her a new antibiotic (since she said she was allergic to so many others), and she told them she was allergic to all those type of antibiotics. She has been a nurse for years and years, but she was not one anymore. I sat and watched that kid (after the nurse had left) break out in big red swollen areas all over her body. Even though this was the newest generation of this antibiotic, she could not take these types, even the newest. They learned she was not just a hysteric, she knew her body and she knew medications. They gave her a steroid shot once and she had a seizure on the way out of the ER, a true life threatening seizure. Since then, I have learned what I can take and what I cannot.. I carry my medical history in the front of my purse. A doctor,, if I am hospitalized would do a colonoscopy to find the disorder. It would automatically kill me, so I have to carry my alerts along with me. I go for medicine refills for my hypertension, but otherwise, at my age, they are to do nothing to anything below my breast line. We never know when a life threatening action will happen, but you know well enough now you cannot take that medication, and you know what steroid drops can do to you too. Sometimes we have to be our own doctors so we can direct the real ones. No one knows our own body like we do. I got another call the other day that it was time for my yearly checkup from the doc that could have killed me by not listening to me. This is the third time this office has called me and it was not for a late bill payment. For the third time I told them I had fired this doctor and they laugh when I say that. I am too old for "educated guesses.."

The days and the years do not matter. To me, Billy was better looking than the tall Steve McQueen boyish face of youth. Some days it seems my mind goes in circles, little instances in my life are so much bigger than they actually are. My granddaughter wonders why I cannot say "no" to people and I certainly cannot to her, but she really asks for nothing. My daughter has helped so much, but my sister is a "backseat driver" and I had to tell her to "shut up" yesterday, I had taken all I could. You do for people because you have to and it is your responsibility, (you really feel this way) and they complain about something you are doing to help them. Will go no further with this, when it comes down to it, actually this is not my responsibility if it is not appreciated. Enough of that or I will be going back and deleting. But, if Billy was here, he could not help this brain of mine. He tried for so many years. I am not trying to talk against a religion, but in jokes it is always the little Jewish grandmother that speaks the guilt and I know she lives right in the middle of my brain. Yes it is imagination on my part, but she is still there.

We all know the battles each of us face, and family battles. We share. Sometimes we see things we wish we had not seen, but we hope the person we have grown to know (on paper) is as intelligent as he or she seems on paper. Then we have silence and we can read into it two ways, either they are having too hard a time coping or they are moving on from their hardest grief. We hope for that. Until we hear, just like with the young English mother, living in Brussels in a terrorist time, we can hope and pray they are okay. (And Kay, I hope you are better today).

There is hope Brad. Have always looked on you as one of the survivors and hope for your happiness.. There is a Dr. Seuss saying I tell my kids all the time. Strange, I find myself having to listen to it also. Wish you the best. My son was a DJ for years and years. He played what was popular at the moment in time he was working. I introduced him to Tom Waits and he still plays him the most, but classical and jazz have been his mainstays.........no, Tom Waits is his mainstay.......and there were times my "Queen," "Journey," "The Band," and "Eagles" were all I wanted to listen to and could hear nothing but Tom Waits, and please don't let one of his invade your brain, it eats away at it. I guess if we all liked the same stuff it would not be "what a wonderful world" and he can sing it just like Armstrong. Sometimes music helps heal, sometimes it rips open.

Last I heard from Kay she was in terrible pain also. Had to fix Arlo's special food and was so sick. Antibiotics making her very ill. My girls, you gotta bounce back.

Tom, there you go, down your own path. We each have to make our own way. You know what is best for you.

Tom, if we were not RVing, I was reading RV forums, anything, everything RV. It was how we loved to live and was the happiest in that 19 foot 5th wheel. Had everything we needed and the roof was almost arms length above the mattress in the 5th wheel part above the truck. Raining was wonderful. I was never afraid. We had a bad time once and separated for six weeks. He was over every evening but left at night. I was never afraid in that tiny space. But, that was his and my life and dream. Half of that dream is not with me anymore and I have no reading of RV forums and do not even see them on the roads anymore. I have a friend who picked back up the life after her husband passed. Actually surprised me. A lot of things surprise me now though. Still, what goes for one person does not go for another person. It is your path, however you walk it is your business. RVing with another husband was okay with her, for awhile anyhow, lost track of them and then did not look anymore. Sometimes our interests change when one is gone.

Thanks Marty, I'm okay now. You know just what to say.

I have put on here about "widow's brain" before. This week end I might have had a moment of worry though. For a long time I found it amusing that I could watch a TV show or take Brianna to a movie and then come home and rewatch it and it was mostly all new. I have done this with books also. With the books I had the mildest worry because I was enjoying reading them again, but we bought the DVD to a movie we went to see in March, and there were parts of that movie I never remembered. Like I said, up until now I found it amusing, not really worried. I drive. I know where I am going. I do not lose my way (other than missing a childhood road a couple of week ends ago), but it had been so long that it did not worry me. I have no trouble finding my phone, my glasses, my keys, my purse, because they are all where I am reminded by constantly putting them in the same place. I have had it happen once or twice that I might not remember to put them exactly back and I did have anxiety about that. So, this not remembering movies, TV shows, I have actually enjoyed. I do have certain words sometimes that I cannot remember. Sometimes they come to me and sometimes I go to Google. It has been 32 months. I am not a danger to anyone with anything I have forgotten. And, I actually have felt some relief that some of my memory, especially the hurting most memory, has to be really thought about to remember it. Like I said, until this week end, it has been a total joy and amusement to forget some things. But having just watched this movie in the theaters in March and now watching the DVD in June, I was a little alarmed at my almost total amnesia. I know grief brain. I also know 75-years-old. I think my worse enemy for this situation would be worry. But, it has been 32 months. I do know that Xanax will cause a side effect of amnesia, but I only take it at home. Maybe long term effects go along with it. As long as it does not bother my driving or my attention to where I keep things, I think I am okay. I do not know why it went from a joyful amusement to a source of some anxiety.

Darrel, I notice you took your post down. I do that often myself and go back and revise it. I think it is kind of like going back and cleaning the blood off the floor where I bled for awhile, then I am better. I have a bandage over that open wound that has to develop the scar tissue, but while it is still bleeding, I have to keep it from being too messy. Grief is messy. I am going to have to put my arithmophobia aside for a moment, I see on the bottom of the screen that the day is the 17th. And, unfortunately, the 17th is a significant day. Some months I can forget it. Also, some months I wonder if I have the year of "15" mixed up with the date, so I will have to do some finger counting here. So, it is two years and eight months. How about 32 months. That is as far as I am going. I only have 10 fingers, counting thumbs too. I can now listen to music. I can also listen to music and cry to where I have to pull over to the side of the road. I can look at pictures, but it is still painful. I finally did notice the change in seasons. So, even though time does not heal the wounds, it does make the pain bearable. Now, if I could only get my family straightened out where I could just live, life would be doable. I do not know if I will live long enough to see that and somehow, I don't care. "I'm not that important, life does go on, if I wasn't here, then I'd be gone." Who knew my own quote from 1982, would be my most significant.

I think I am by nature a very selfish person and think about myself and mine before anyone else. This is to all the father's past, present and future and the most powerful impression of love you leave with your children.

“The heart of a father is the masterpiece of nature.” ― Antoine François Prévost, Manon Lescaut It was a natural thing to him, being a father. When I went to work nights, so my children would be safe night and day, I knew I was leaving the house, leaving those two precious children in a man's hands that was a better mother and father than I would ever be. This father of my children was beyond anything any woman would ever want a father to be to her children. He never made them think they were using up his time, because his time was their time, until the day he left. This man was (to our family) the best possible father, mother, protector, and he never gave up on them. He never would have. My dad was my dad, I loved him, but this man was something I had never seen. He had time for his kids and he never begrudged one minute of it. And, while they were around, that same love was given to his grandchildren and to this grandchild that called him Dade, he was hers and she was his from the time she was placed in his arms by her mother. I dare say there were other good fathers, but I never knew one that was as close to perfect as this man. I was proud of him. So were his children. He is so very much missed. ( I put up my memory of my father yesterday for Father's Day.) My dad was a most honorable man. He never had what this man I married had though. I cannot say he didn't love us, because in his own way he definitely did, but a lot of times we got in his way, we got in the way of things he wanted to do by himself. This was the difference in my dad and Billy. It did not matter what Billy was doing, if his kids, or his grandkids (Brianna was more a daughter), he never showed that he begrudged one second of giving up what he was doing. It was what his kids and grandkids wanted that was the most important thing to him and I dare say he never had one day of guilt that he had not given them his 100%. This man was a perfect father that I, nor his kids or grandkids, especially Brianna, could ever find one fault in as a father.

Don't want any infections. Please take care of yourself Kay. In Arkansas we had to drive 40 miles either way to get to doctor and I swore the next move would be close. It was within walking distance, but the big hospital was still far away. Take care of yourself. If Brianna's iron is still low they are gonna send her to a hematologist, she had it drawn today. Cannot get her to eat meat but I keep the gummy vitamins close and she takes the prescribed iron.. She has been hypothyroid nearly since birth. Be careful driving. At least now you don't have to worry about snow. I'll take a little good news. Her iron was up. No hematologist. Just keep taking the iron.

Sometimes I tell too much about me. Waiting so long to grieve someone gone so many years ago makes life seem to come full circle. Lots of things we don't have to tell except there are a lot of things that bring us down. Sometimes probably would best to just live out stupid life stressors, don't bring 1961 into 2018. Wow, I've been in a time machine. See, psychiatry could not give me any DSM score.