Somewhere Over The Rainbow

"Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me..."

"Well... if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with! Is that right?"


Buckaroo Bonzai:"Wherever you go, there you are."

Well, it's been three weeks since my last post. We finally entered a more typical summer weather pattern here in the U.P. which meant that the dreadful heat finally went away taking the humidity with it. Today, however, is about as miserable as it's been all summer. It started up again yesterday and will quit, hopefully, in just another day or so. I simply loathe hot weather and it contributes heavily to my state of mind.

A number of readers/friends commented on my last post to see if I was "ok." The warmth and friendship were greatly appreciated, even when there appeared to be a genuine lack of understanding of depression. I am happy to report that the cloud is lifting a bit.

This, despite the fact that my employer has once again stripped us of yet another benefit that made putting up with no raises tolerable. Which in turn lead to another evening of checking out property listings in Fairbanks, Alaska, and the job board at Banner Health who operate the hospital up there.

In the end, the facts brought me down to earth. This is not the time to be trying to sell a house - even if it is a lovely log cabin in the woods. My present state of health prevents me from working as a nurse in most situations (my hands are far from functional). I would be sacrificing my local friendships and contacts to start over in a place where I know no one at a time when I am clearly not in the mood to be social. Most of what I would be looking for in a new home I already have in this home. Finally, wherever you go, there you are.

That last bit is the kicker. If I have learned anything in my 47 years it would have to be that drifting into grass-is-always-greener thinking is a delusion. My friend Maria strongly asserted that she thinks I still have a few great leaps in me yet (see previous post and comments). Perhaps she's right, but I am thinking those leaps will have to be more internal leaps right here where I am.

Anyway, signs that I am feeling better. Despite all the usual reservations I create before a gathering, I drove 50 miles yesterday to Tom and Dave's "camp" and had a lovely visit with friends I don't see very often. A number of those sweet people gave me an extra hug or hand squeeze to let me know how I am valued. Tom in particular made a point to tell me that it's always wonderful when I show given how often I tend to hermit instead (I paraphrase, of course).

There was a young man there who stirred a bit of interest--got me thinking. I may never take it further or pursue it - the point is that taking notice is an indicator that I'm pulling out of the nose dive.

I continue to have problems with my hands. The burning aches and stiffness in my joints continues to plague me. The doctors still don't seem to really know what is going on. Yet I had a good appointment today with a neurologist who has some ideas and is starting me on a new medication. This, of course, will be $40.00 more dollars a month out of my pocket since we have no real drug coverage in any traditional sense at work. However, if I do follow through and cancel my wireless service with Verizon I will be saving $60 a month and so will still come out ahead. Of course, the pills may not make any difference either and won't end up an expense.

And yet I received a telephone call from a woman from the Diocese who, though not a regular blog reader, read my last post and wanted to check in with me. She shared some good information about her congregation and I may finally take her up on the invite to join them for church. Despite enjoying my Sunday mornings in bed, I think reconnecting with my faith and celebrating the Eucharist would be a good thing right about now. I think I miss it more than I let myself realize.

Lastly, and this is a bit odd, but I watched the final episode of Winds of War last night. I got weepy (as I usually do) during the Pearl Harbor attack sequence. I don't quite understand why visual representations of December 7, 1941, affect me that way, but they do. It must be the sailor in me after all these years. In any case, experiencing the emotion in that way was also an indicator that the depression is lessening a bit. I was moved. Three weeks ago I was numb.

Me. Me. Me. I really hate the personal quality of all this. In the past I have tried to flip my personal experiences into something more universal so that other folks may be able to take something away from them. I loathe the quality exemplified by Bette Midler's character in Beaches: "Enough of me talking about myself, what do YOU think of me?"

Given the state of my hands and that typing tends to aggravate the condition, I won't say how often I will post here. Thank you for staying with me though.

As Robert DeNiro as Harry Tuttle in Brazil said, "Listen, kid, we're all in it together." Peace.