24 February 2006
23 February 2006
Oh My God
We have the worst president ever.
EVER.
I don't even have to list reasons why, everyone knows.
Good God, when TIME magazine lists how many days are left until his reign of error is over, it's a sign.
WORST. EVER.
That's all I have to say about that.
EVER.
I don't even have to list reasons why, everyone knows.
Good God, when TIME magazine lists how many days are left until his reign of error is over, it's a sign.
WORST. EVER.
That's all I have to say about that.
Sneaky Little Bastard
Depression is a sneaky little bastard.
I realized this morning that sneaky little bastard is a strong, accurate, description for this malady.
I was just reading about levels of depression. There is clinical, medical, and situational depression. I found this interesting because people have an image of what depression is and it is not necessarily a correct one. I found it interesting that depression can be graded, kind of like degrees of murder. I like that it can be managed or even “cured”. It’s an interesting disease to have, I suppose as there are so many levels and degrees to consider.
It is amazing to me how many people have from some sort of depression. People that you would never think suffer from depression. Well, let me correct that. Not necessarily suffer, let’s say copes with. “Suffer” is a choice to some degree. Some people don’t suffer.
Depression IS a sneaky little bastard. Before you know it, he has wrapped his arms around you and there is little you can do. He rides along like an unwanted hitchhiker interrupting & screwing up everything that you do. He alters your personality, he makes changes that you didn’t approve.
Then, for some, he disappears like an apparition. You don’t even know where he went or how long he stayed, or worse yet: what kind of damage he wrought while he was here. Sneaky little bastard.
But I guess some of us are lucky…strange reference when discussing depression, I realize…some of us just dance with depression and then he’s off to the next person on his dance card.
At least some of us are not stuck with him like some kind of a horrible Siamese Twin. (Okay, like there’s such a thing as a *good* Siamese twin)
Or some of us can take a pill to ward him off like holy water to a vampire.
Some of us keep him around like a security blanket. Some of us keep him around like a bitter ex-spouse.
I really have no point. I just was rambling. He’s just such a sneaky little bastard.
I realized this morning that sneaky little bastard is a strong, accurate, description for this malady.
I was just reading about levels of depression. There is clinical, medical, and situational depression. I found this interesting because people have an image of what depression is and it is not necessarily a correct one. I found it interesting that depression can be graded, kind of like degrees of murder. I like that it can be managed or even “cured”. It’s an interesting disease to have, I suppose as there are so many levels and degrees to consider.
It is amazing to me how many people have from some sort of depression. People that you would never think suffer from depression. Well, let me correct that. Not necessarily suffer, let’s say copes with. “Suffer” is a choice to some degree. Some people don’t suffer.
Depression IS a sneaky little bastard. Before you know it, he has wrapped his arms around you and there is little you can do. He rides along like an unwanted hitchhiker interrupting & screwing up everything that you do. He alters your personality, he makes changes that you didn’t approve.
Then, for some, he disappears like an apparition. You don’t even know where he went or how long he stayed, or worse yet: what kind of damage he wrought while he was here. Sneaky little bastard.
But I guess some of us are lucky…strange reference when discussing depression, I realize…some of us just dance with depression and then he’s off to the next person on his dance card.
At least some of us are not stuck with him like some kind of a horrible Siamese Twin. (Okay, like there’s such a thing as a *good* Siamese twin)
Or some of us can take a pill to ward him off like holy water to a vampire.
Some of us keep him around like a security blanket. Some of us keep him around like a bitter ex-spouse.
I really have no point. I just was rambling. He’s just such a sneaky little bastard.
Sitcom Moment
Yesterday we were all in goofy moods. It was like it was a Friday on a Wednesday.
The telephone rang and it was for one of the staff. I've been known to tell the staff
"It's a *boy* on the phone for you " much like a eight year old little sister.
(we have a casual work environement, in case you hadn't noticed)
This time, I was very specific however "It's your ex-wife". I felt being specific was important in this instance.
Somehow, the person didn't hear the "ex" part.
Oh holy God.
I hear him answer the telephone "Hi Hon!"
*groan* This just isn't going to be good.
I actually felt the world slow down like in one of those stop-action scenes "Noooooooo..........."
I kind of hollered back to the breakroom where he was. "I said EX Wife!!! Ex! Ex! Ex!"
Luckily he took in with good humor, as did the ex-wife after she had time to recover.
That could have been ugly! But we got a good laugh out of it anyway.
The telephone rang and it was for one of the staff. I've been known to tell the staff
"It's a *boy* on the phone for you " much like a eight year old little sister.
(we have a casual work environement, in case you hadn't noticed)
This time, I was very specific however "It's your ex-wife". I felt being specific was important in this instance.
Somehow, the person didn't hear the "ex" part.
Oh holy God.
I hear him answer the telephone "Hi Hon!"
*groan* This just isn't going to be good.
I actually felt the world slow down like in one of those stop-action scenes "Noooooooo..........."
I kind of hollered back to the breakroom where he was. "I said EX Wife!!! Ex! Ex! Ex!"
Luckily he took in with good humor, as did the ex-wife after she had time to recover.
That could have been ugly! But we got a good laugh out of it anyway.
10 February 2006
What to do with a problem like"Maria"?
My best friend is in jail. Now that is a statement that not everyone gets to make.
It is a lot of things: it is embarrassing, it is disappointing, it is heartbreaking, and it is surreal.
It also brings up a lot of ethical questions:
Do you stand by your friend?
Do you sever the friendship?
Do you visit them in jail?
Where do you draw the line?
Another factor to be considered is what the crime is: DUI, a murder, burglary? Where is the line?
What is forgivable? Dealable? or deal-breaker?
In this case, it is drug-related so one would hope that the bad behavior is temporary. However, the crimes committed during such drug-induced stupors are heinous. Awful. Life altering. Things were done that you only read about in newspapers. And now I have and it is someone I know.
In addition, she aligned herself with a bad, bad man. I blame him for her troubles, yet she made choices as well. He lied, abused, manipulated, and molded her into a person that none of us recognize. However, she made the choice to stay, the choice to do drugs. She is to blame for her actions.
Because of that and more, I severed my friendship with her. She still wants to stay married to Satan, she still thinks she is being unjustly accused and imprisoned, she is pouting.
Surreal Moments that have occurred in the past year:
Watching your childhood friend plead “Not Guilty” on the 5:00 news.
Reading her name in the lead article in the newspaper.
Trying to explain to people where she is now.
Helping a friend move her stuff, knowing that it will be stored for years and years.
While packing her things, finding glimpse of a life I didn’t know she lived.
Actually saying the words "My best friend is in jail."
It has been said that divorce is more difficult than death. Death is permanent; divorce is a choice where the person still exists, just no longer in your life.
Having a friend in jail is a combination of both death and divorce. The person still exists, but in this case, it is not the person I thought I knew. Or it is the person I thought I knew – just a drug-enhanced version. This version of my friend is dead to me and what-to-do with the version I thought I knew? It is very complicated.
Her sentencing to prison is upcoming. As it nears, I find myself anxious and sad. She has been in county jail for a year and a half, something she described as “no worse than boot camp.” I have referred to it as sleep-away camp. Prison is a whole new game though. Now I will worry for her safety. I will no longer have the chance to visit or write (if I ever choose to), as I won’t know where she is. I don’t know what opportunities she will have for rehabilitation or if she will even take them.
Another issue to consider…what to do when she has completed her sentence? Who is she going to be? What if she calls or knocks on the door? Unfortunately, it looks like I will have years to ponder those questions.
So now I try to focus on the friend I used to know. The one that stood by me when I got married at 19, the one that married in the same courthouse that she is now being sentenced in. The one that used to stay up all night watching MTV with me. The one that loved Heart and ZZ Top. The one that had an incredible future ahead of her.
Hopefully she still does.
It is a lot of things: it is embarrassing, it is disappointing, it is heartbreaking, and it is surreal.
It also brings up a lot of ethical questions:
Do you stand by your friend?
Do you sever the friendship?
Do you visit them in jail?
Where do you draw the line?
Another factor to be considered is what the crime is: DUI, a murder, burglary? Where is the line?
What is forgivable? Dealable? or deal-breaker?
In this case, it is drug-related so one would hope that the bad behavior is temporary. However, the crimes committed during such drug-induced stupors are heinous. Awful. Life altering. Things were done that you only read about in newspapers. And now I have and it is someone I know.
In addition, she aligned herself with a bad, bad man. I blame him for her troubles, yet she made choices as well. He lied, abused, manipulated, and molded her into a person that none of us recognize. However, she made the choice to stay, the choice to do drugs. She is to blame for her actions.
Because of that and more, I severed my friendship with her. She still wants to stay married to Satan, she still thinks she is being unjustly accused and imprisoned, she is pouting.
Surreal Moments that have occurred in the past year:
Watching your childhood friend plead “Not Guilty” on the 5:00 news.
Reading her name in the lead article in the newspaper.
Trying to explain to people where she is now.
Helping a friend move her stuff, knowing that it will be stored for years and years.
While packing her things, finding glimpse of a life I didn’t know she lived.
Actually saying the words "My best friend is in jail."
It has been said that divorce is more difficult than death. Death is permanent; divorce is a choice where the person still exists, just no longer in your life.
Having a friend in jail is a combination of both death and divorce. The person still exists, but in this case, it is not the person I thought I knew. Or it is the person I thought I knew – just a drug-enhanced version. This version of my friend is dead to me and what-to-do with the version I thought I knew? It is very complicated.
Her sentencing to prison is upcoming. As it nears, I find myself anxious and sad. She has been in county jail for a year and a half, something she described as “no worse than boot camp.” I have referred to it as sleep-away camp. Prison is a whole new game though. Now I will worry for her safety. I will no longer have the chance to visit or write (if I ever choose to), as I won’t know where she is. I don’t know what opportunities she will have for rehabilitation or if she will even take them.
Another issue to consider…what to do when she has completed her sentence? Who is she going to be? What if she calls or knocks on the door? Unfortunately, it looks like I will have years to ponder those questions.
So now I try to focus on the friend I used to know. The one that stood by me when I got married at 19, the one that married in the same courthouse that she is now being sentenced in. The one that used to stay up all night watching MTV with me. The one that loved Heart and ZZ Top. The one that had an incredible future ahead of her.
Hopefully she still does.
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