It seems forever since I have sat down to write a real post. There are several reasons for this. One, which comes in the easily solvable excuse category, is that my internet access has been lousy. OK, so I could write them up in a word processing program and go somewhere with internet and publish them. That would work if I was the type of person who left the house on a regular basis. I am not that type of person.
The second reason is that my emotional life has been taken up with helping my parents in various ways. This is a good thing. It is what I am here to do. But it is absolutely draining in every imaginable way.
The third reason is that I have been slogging through a bout of bipolar depression, which has everything stuck like the Laguna Tar Pits. I know precisely how those dinosaurs felt when it happened. “Hey Joe, how come I can’t move?” “Because you’re stuck, is why.”
Called my shrink. More Lamectil, he said. Oh great, that usually sends me into a horrid mixed state, then I have to take enough Seroquel to send me to bed for three or for days. I don’t have time for this. Can’t be helped, he says. That’s what works for you. Shit. I’m just not up for it this time. But no choice.
At least I have little Noga snuggled up next to me. I can dimly feel her through the depressive haze. I know she’s here, though, and that gives me a lot of comfort.
This is Noga, my psychiatric service dog.