Choose My Own Adventure

If you've been reading my blogs (even just those on WordPress) with any regularity, you might get the feeling I am very-often depressed. I am not meaning for that to happen; Trust me that I am well-aware a blog about a depressing life might be just as depressing (if not more so) for those who come to visit &/or read it. However, in much the same way it is popularly said that "Perception is 9-10ths of reality", I mainly blog about what my life is about/is for/includes, & the fact is I have been very depressed since around Labor Day, if not before.

Even so, I have been to my share of "counselors", psychiatrists, psychologists, & who all knows what else in the past decade-or-so. While I have already mentioned in these blogs I've learned that they can't discuss with others my various writing projects & things I discuss with them, I also learned firsthand years ago that things I say in "sessions" with them can be used to send me straight to the Psych Ward of the local hospital. While I have been there-&-home-again at least twice, always with the "OK" from a "medical pro" (not breaking-out like a character I once saw on an episode of "Burn Notice", played by an actor named Michael Weston, pronounced & almost spelled the exact-same as the lead character on the show), that does not mean I am in any mood to go back.

Since I wrote about seeing her the last time, I have called to make another appointment with that same counselor, thinking she (like her predecessor) would help me work on my depression. I went to that appointment last week, & rather than even attempt to work on that, she continued asking me the same one question, claiming she couldn't "work with" me until we answered it. To this minute, I honestly have yet to answer it.

Regardless (it seems I therefore may not go back again), I have realized simply enough the one way to continue living with basically the same amount of freedom I usually have (to read what I want, watch what I want, listen to the still-unplayed CDs I bought months ago, but avoid the hospital) is mainly to continually enact a bit of deception. (I admit this may have a lot to do with the fact I just watched episodes of "Burn Notice" & "Leverage" back-to-back, & am currently reading a book I mentioned in a previous blog by former FBI fugitive Kevin Mitnick.) I don't mean lying to anyone; Simply not telling them I don't see a point to living, etc.

The only problem there is it appears to lead me to a complication... When I have a conversation with extended-family relatives or so-called "medical professionals" where I don't mention my lack of "will to live", they inevitably ask me what I've been doing lately. Reading a paperback & checking my blood-sugar is "all well & good" (not to mention perfectly legal & healthy), but again, quite boring. What do I do to kill time & have something to tell them then?...

...The reason I left the ellipses there is because I can't answer that question. Rather, I could, but it has potentially enough answers to fill a whole 'nother blog. I get to, as I've come to sometimes refer to it, "choose my own adventure" there. Sure; I admit that sometimes means walking to the Mall, which I tend to do as regularly as once-a-week. However, once inside, there are potentially dozens of stores I have never set a single step into. As the saying goes, "There's a first time for everything." (There is one store in our Mall I used to avoid on purpose. Eventually, I walked in, telling myself I was just going in there "for book research," to have things ready I could write about other people/stores characters I had begun writing stories about might experience. Now, I have a near-full "active shopper" card for that same store, along with a keychain "fob" & at least 1 T-shirt I bought there.)

Ever since just about the day I was first told I was Diabetic, I preferred to have something to look forward to, a reason why I was multiple-times-a-day taking insulin shots, and taking other steps to care for a disease I've never believed I had. It could be the local "Rib Burn-Off", where I have yet to bite into a single rib, but which was once home to national bands like Gin Blossoms. It could be a wrestling event or basketball game in Cleveland. Often, a decent-looking TV premiere would be enough for me to consider "worth it". (Sure, there were times I was disappointed by the event... But by then, that means it was over, & I had to look for the next upcoming thing on my calendar.) Now, I similarly often find myself looking for future events. Since I often find my next several events are doctors' appointments, I replace those in my head with the open time I have surrounding them, which are mine to fill as I see fit.

As my way of repaying any regular readers for boring them with my recent blogs, join me in this exercise. Unlike me typing, you don't need your hands to read my blog... So everyone reading it, raise your hand (any of them; I won't know or care which) if you've yet to climb a mountain. Cool; Now, keep it up there if you know for a fact you couldn't do it. My eyes are decent, according to my ophthalmologist, but there better not be anyone out there I could potentially see with a hand up now! The only reason you know you can't do it is if you don't have any hands! Maybe you tried unsuccessfully, for instance, to climb Everest or "K2"; That's cool, & just means you need to pick a smaller one next time.

Off to the side, I'll admit I used to go to the local "Relay For Life" when I was in school. My Grandmother was a cancer survivor, I believe. After I was diagnosed Diabetic, however, I stopped. Don't get me wrong; I'm not supporting cancer, or anything like that! However, last I checked, cancer & Diabetes were both diseases without "sure-thing" cures. I still get upset whenever I read about Wahoo McDaniel or another celebrity who dies from "complications of diabetes"; Even so, I'm betting (if I believe the popular idea I have Diabetes, which I honestly never have to this second) that it or "complications from" it will be what kills me. That means I can fill the rest of the time attempting to cross busy local streets with my shoes untied, eating things I can't identify (going against a rule I've long held myself to), or any number of various other things.

Odds are if you read this, & especially if you've done so this far, that means you know me &/or where I live. Just know I have the vast majority of this week open, & will be filling it with the things listed above & who all knows what else. If you feel the need, come on down & try to stop me. I'll be up late, sampling my old Fall Out Boy CD (especially "Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying...").