Decisions...

I've really struggled these last few days.
My problem is that every so often, when the black dog calls, I seem to be helpless against it. No matter what tips and tricks I've learnt from various places, I just seem to get so low, that I find myself constantly thinking about killing myself. Usually after a week, it starts to ease off and I'm back to my usual miserable self.
This week, I've upset my wife, both my sons and my daughter.
It's upsetting my kids that really hurts. It's not their fault Dad is a manic depressive, and usually I manage to keep myself clear of them.
So, here I am. Driven my Daughter to a friends in Liverpool rather than stay here, sat hoping that I really am looking at the end of this session...
Because I really have managed to have a bad week.
So, that's it. Nearly time for bed...

Now comes the hard part...

For the last few days, I've been really odd. Not sleeping properly, waking early, headaches and all that AFTER a cold.
I know I'm down.
I know I've not to let it get to me.
Problem is that My daughter is here & I really don't want her to see just how bad I am at the moment.
We went out to lunch today. I really am doing my best not to go OTT and give in, and at the moment, I'm winning, but it might go to penalties...
An early night I in order, mainly as I have writing to do, but with a house full, I cant sit here & write all night, so its bed for me & then resume work later.
Managed to slip on the bloody ice as well, so my ankle is REALLY hurting me ATM...
Anyhow, poem time.

Taxidermy

 

An owl hang-gliding in suspended flight,

An arrowheaded fox in mock attack

Beneath a northern pike

Whose pinking shears are open for a fight

That never comes, a lynx's ears pinned back

For some decisive strike. . . .

 

No dove is ever featured in a heap,

No walleye belly up.  This art contrives,

Although the eyes are glass,

To reawaken from their real sleep

Breakneck ferocity when the falcon dives,

Grace in the largemouth bass,

 

And overlooks their fixed, affected stare.

A more organic form would represent

No animal at all,

Its lifetime having melted into air,

But in a fairer attitude present

An empty pedestal.

 

Greg Williamson

 

 

From The Silent Partner, Story Line Press,

© 1994.  Reprinted by permission of the author
and Story Line Press, Ashland, Oregon.

Week one.

And I'm actually still in a good place. Lots of things going awry, but my Wife tells me I've been dealing with them admirably.
However, between Xmas & New year, I went to see my mate for an hour or so & came away with the most stubborn cough/cold known to mankind. Now, my wife is off sick with it, our Youngest is off school with it & I'm still coughing like a banshee and having trouble swallowing, 3 weeks later.
Mentally, I've gotten through the anniversary of my Dad passing & only had a minor panic attack, leading to an earlier night than usual.
I really cant wait for the rugby league season to start up again.
Hull KR are looking like a strong side under Craig Sandercock for this coming season, but living in Manchester, I'm probably going to see more of Salford City Reds than Hull KR this season.
Starting with their friendly against Wigan, I'm really hoping that Salford survive and are able to get through the season.
Anyhow, I promised a poem, & have gone for something a little off the wall to begin with...
As my Dad is no longer here, I urge you to get to know your parents as well as you can, because you're a long time without them.

Enjoy...

Dad

 

He often dreams of what he wants to be

and sleeps just to remember what it’s like:

young, anxious to grow, fresh with fantasy.

He often dreams of what he wants to be.

And when he can’t sleep, drinks, forgets, feels free

to hate the children, raise his hand and strike.

He often dreams of what he wants to be

and sleeps just to remember what it’s like.

Michael T. Young

 © 1997; originally printed in Because the Wind Has
Questions.  Used by permission of the author.