A little reflection about, around the birthday this year – I see things are different than they have been; I was going to say in a really long time, but I think it’s better to say they are different than they have been before. 

Typically the time around my birthday starts a year-end period of depression.  It’s been going on since my teens I think, and there have been some years that it has been worse than others but I strongly associate my birthday with the death of my father.  I was celebrating my birthday at a sleepover with my two closest schoolmates (also Virgos, born the same week) when I was notified that my father died.  I was 11 years old.  I think my manic/depressive cycling pretty much started after that event.

Anyway, most years my mom and I celebrate our birthday’s together, seeing that we were born on the same day.  The year before last year was the last good time we had together.  We had started a routine of renting a hotel room in Santa Cruz for a weekend and doing all the things we like…  bookstores, libraries, thrift stores, our special restaurants, beaches we liked…  Last year we bought tickets to go to a jazz show together at Kumbwaa the very evening of our birthday.  She got sick though and had to spend the entire day in the hotel room.  I went to the show alone, unable to find anyone to use the ticket.  (Sound familiar to my plight?) 

This year, wow.  My mom and I, typically we at least drive to Santa Cruz 6 times a year together.  This year, I can hardly even pull up memory of making a single trip there with her.  And this is September now.  And we did not go for our birthday this year.  And we did not even go out for dinner on our birthday together this year.

Ok, I said a lot about one thing, one aspect of what I am thinking now without getting close to the point I want to explore.  I feel like my life is shortening.  I am substantially weaker physically this year than I was last year or the year before.  Two years ago I used to go for an hour long walk every single day as soon as I would wake up in the morning.  I’d get up at 8 or 9 am and go for a 3 mile walk.  Back then though, I wasn’t mentally stable enough to volunteer at the library even though I had it set in my mind as a goal of “wellness”. 

Last year I made at least 3 or 4 trips to Santa Cruz in which I swam in the ocean.  I can’t remember doing that even once this year.  I do not walk at all anymore.  Last year when I house/cat sat for Aine when she went to Ireland I went for an hour walk everyday.  I’m just now finishing being here for a month and have not been for one single walk.  (The year prior when I was working on my senior thesis about “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” I was in Santa Cruz and ~and the ocean~ up to 2 times a month. Oh, and my inability to complete that thesis led to loss of respect of one of the best friends that I've had in recent years.)

Financially I am in dire straights and I don’t have the clarity of mind to truly assess just how bad things are.  Last year things were bad.  They are worse now.  My manic trait of spending uncontrollably is more under control now than it has been in awhile but that is pretty much because I have maxed out all of my credit cards.  I dealt with my first “bill collector” last month.  (And was rescued yet again by my mother, who doesn’t have much money, or strength left to go out earning money, left either.)  

I haven’t got the smarts to figure out whether I should file bankruptcy – I probably should, I don’t know why I shouldn’t, but I don’t know how to either. 

Ok, now here is what I’ve been leading up to say.  I feel like my life is starting to spiral down on me.  I don’t mean that I’m feeling like giving up, not at all.  I like the projects I’m involved with now, the classes, the volunteering.  Although I have to admit that these are dim candles flickering in a strengthening storm.  I have no community, er, spiritual group or sports club, or pub gang, or work-out buddies…  and I’m getting embarrassed about complaining about it so much and think that I just have to stop.

I still don’t feel in safe hands with my pdoc.  When I saw him last week he rather off the cuff said something about the time schedule that I said I took my meds at.  So I assumed he meant for me to change the times to what he called a more “normal” time schedule.  I made the adjustment and within a day or two fell into a pretty significant physical depression that was easily intensified by some thoughts I was having.  So what would you have done?  Called the doctor and told him about the problem?  Asked for advice?  Would you have felt the need to call your doctors emergency phone number?  I called.  Not the emergency number.  I explained in detail what had happened and the level of my concern and my desire for a call back.  Does he call back?  NO.  I called him 3 times last week telling him that I lost my appointment card and that I needed him to call and remind me what time my next appointment was.  He finally called.  20 minutes after my appointment had started. 

I’ve thought so much about the S thing in the past.  I don’t think about it now.  But the weirdness of how things have been spiraling down lately, disappointments, and inabilities to deal with insurmountable problems.  A bad event could trigger the S thing.  Friends to live a life with, A must have lost interest in me, or felt betrayed by me when I wouldn’t go to his parties in Tehachapi.  If he could understand that it was not a personal rejection but that it was because of my dedication to God that I was experiencing at that time in my life.  I don’t know, maybe it was madness then too.  Maybe I’ve just been insane my entire life and unable to have or keep friends, ever.

For instance, I had really good, close friends when I was involved in Siddha Yoga.  Three extremely close friends, but dozens of other casual friends.  All of those connections are gone now.  But that was also the result of a major shakeup in the entire religious organization and everyone had to go and get their own lives straightened out.  And the ashram was like a home.  A spiritual home, yes, but also it was even where I went “home”, every night for dinner with friends, for years.  But I can’t go into detail about why I can’t “live that life” anymore now.  There is too much to explain.