I Haven't Fallen Off the Face of the Planet

I owe an apology to anyone that actually reads this blog on any sort of regular basis. February has been a tough month for me mentally.

I have clinical depression, and it kicked my ass this month. I'm not offering this as an excuse - I've been living with this for most of my life, and ordinarily I can function at least halfway reasonably. But there's been very little sunlight lately, and I imagine that has had something to do with it. That compounded with some personal issues has just made my life feel even harder than normal.

For instance, I thought getting my income tax refund and getting everything caught up would help. Not so much. I thought getting a scooter would cheer me up. It has somewhat, but not like I had hoped.

I know one of the things that's really eating at me is the loss of my friends. Some dying, others deciding they're pissed at me and cutting off all communication - what the hell? What did I do?

The only thing I know for sure is some of this stems from an incident last year in which I felt like a pariah to everyone I know. I secluded myself for several months and didn't really talk with anyone because it was brought to my attention that I'm not as nice a person as I would like to think and I have caused the people I care about more pain that I was aware. I figured there was no reason to inflict myself upon anyone, and spent a lot of time in a rather dark place. I had hoped the people that have dumped me would be at least a little understanding, but evidently there was more to it than I thought. And now I have very few people that still want to talk with me or hang out with me. Perhaps I'm still a pariah.

Anyway, I'm hoping that this darkness will lift soon. Riding the scooter exposes me to a lot more sunlight, and I know that will help. I will work to make sure there are more entries on here as well.

Blessed Be, Gene

Well, we’ve lost another friend. Gene Lynch passed away Wednesday morning. This was not entirely unexpected as he had been in poor health for some years, but it’s never something you really anticipate. You’re never really prepared when you get the news.

Gene was a character. He came to our Wicca 101 classes to study and learn, and he even initiated after his studies. I was proud of that. He was a retired Navy man, a former Boy Scout leader, author of several books geared towards camping and an opinionated loudmouth. Believe me, if you knew Gene then you know he would appreciate that!

He always astonished me with his tenacity. There were times when I thought, “well, he’s too sick now and he won’t make it to such-and-such event,” but I’ll be damned if he didn’t show up anyway. If he wanted to do something, he did it. He wasn’t going to just lie down and die, despite the diabetes and leukemia or even the amputations. He lived his life for as long as he was able.

Towards the end, I know things got bad for his family. He wasn’t able to recognize his friends anymore, and he became difficult for his wife to care for. We knew that when she finally agreed to hospice care, it wouldn’t be much longer. I also knew that Gene wouldn’t have wanted us to remember him as being sick, so out of respect for him and his family, we offered to help where we could, but didn’t push matters.

I’ve lost two friends in the space of a month and a half. It bothers me because neither of these men was at an age one would consider “old.” I don’t feel they had the opportunities to live completed lives. It has really caused me to take a very hard look at my life and decide whether or not I’m living a life that will be considered “complete” when I reach the end. Am I living for me or for someone else? Am I taking care of my own happiness or have I pushed it aside?

It’s been nearly fourteen years since I lost a very close friend from high school. I just about lost my mind when he died. I’m older and more mature now, but I still feel the effects of losing these two men now in such a short amount of time.
To hell with living a safe life