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Gonzo
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  • 1 month later...

Finished watching all of Californication which might be, on its own, an entry of depression, since it ran at least 3 seasons too long and the last season might be the worst season of TV I've forced myself to watch. 

But the real problem with the show is Natasha McElhone. Not really her fault; she's been a celebrity crush of mine since The Truman Show, but every time she kissed Duchovny, she'd smile through the kiss. 

My ex used to do that all the time, often to my unspoken annoyance. We broke up a year ago after 5 years of more good than bad, and it's never gotten a fucking ounce easier. I wish I could have been annoyed like that for the worst year of my life (and I have some doozies to compare it to).

The thought that keeps coming back to me is, if I kill myself, then I know she'd feel something instead of nothing, but I wouldn't get to know what she felt.  I ended things because I was frustrated and didn't like her emotional distance, but this just all turned out like Diane's Vietnam episode on Bojack. Fixed nothing, changed nothing. Just amplified the worst bits. I was better off unhappy but with her. 

(And spare me the 'ahhhhhh don't hurt yourself ahhhhh!' pearl clutching. It's just irritating.)

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49 minutes ago, Contentious C said:

Finished watching all of Californication which might be, on its own, an entry of depression, since it ran at least 3 seasons too long and the last season might be the worst season of TV I've forced myself to watch. 

But the real problem with the show is Natasha McElhone. Not really her fault; she's been a celebrity crush of mine since The Truman Show, but every time she kissed Duchovny, she'd smile through the kiss. 

My ex used to do that all the time, often to my unspoken annoyance. We broke up a year ago after 5 years of more good than bad, and it's never gotten a fucking ounce easier. I wish I could have been annoyed like that for the worst year of my life (and I have some doozies to compare it to).

The thought that keeps coming back to me is, if I kill myself, then I know she'd feel something instead of nothing, but I wouldn't get to know what she felt.  I ended things because I was frustrated and didn't like her emotional distance, but this just all turned out like Diane's Vietnam episode on Bojack. Fixed nothing, changed nothing. Just amplified the worst bits. I was better off unhappy but with her. 

(And spare me the 'ahhhhhh don't hurt yourself ahhhhh!' pearl clutching. It's just irritating.)

Fuck the pearl clutching, you're not going to get that from me. Okay you had a relationship that was admittedly more good than bad, but you were still unhappy. I had several serious and ultimately shitty relationships before I met Kathy. This summer we celebrate 35 years of marriage. Your soulmate is out there, you just haven't met her yet, don't go looking, you can't force this stuff, it just happens. In my case, I stopped at a bar that I rarely frequented because I was thirsty and it was on the bus route home, so I could get a bus transfer, have my beer and catch a bus in another hour, so maybe two beers... Anyway, that was all I was planning on, when this girl stepped up to the bar to get change for the cigarette machine, I asked her if I could have one as I'd left my pack at the office and really didn't want to pay the high price that the machine cost. She said sure, she didn't really smoke, but it was her birthday so why not? From that point we started talking and here we are 38 years later.  So just get out there, keep doing what you do and it will happen, just let it. 

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One week ago today, my father passed away.  A number of years ago, he started having heart issues. He had some surgery, got things cleared out, got a pace maker, it's all good. Shortly after all the heart surgeries, he found that he was easily becoming short of breath. He couldn't do as much without having to stop and rest. He kept going back in and having his heart checked out, but nobody could find anything. They started to look in to other possible causes. One year ago, he was diagnosed with Pulminary Fibrosis. Scar tissue was growing inside his lungs at an alarming rate. It is a terminal disease with a life expectancy rate of 3-5 years after diagnosis. It had been about 2-3 years since his heart surgeries and since he started having the breathing issues. He'd been on oxygen basically 24/7 since the diagnosis. He got one last year out of life before succumbing to the disease.

On Thanksgiving Day, he was not feeling well. He could barely get out of his chair, and when he walked across the room, he'd be fully out of breath. He had a small 100.4 degree temperature, but he did not want to go to the hospital yet. Two weeks ago today, he had a bad morning and decided to go in to see the Dr. He would not come home again.

They put him in the ICU as he required 100% oxygen to help him breathe properly. The first 2-3 days in the ICU, things looked hopeful. Maybe it's just a virus or the beginning of pneumonia or fluid on his lungs. They'll get that all cleared out and he'll be out of the hospital before the end of the week. As the week progressed and more and more tests were done and nothing else of any consequence was found, things started looking more and more dire. Hospice was considered just so he could get home for his final days, but it would require him to be so drugged up to make the trip that he really wouldn't know what was going on anyway, so he didn't see the point. He didn't want his last days to be spent drugged up and in a coma. He decided that now was the time. He could've lived for as long as he wanted to inside the confines of room 705 in the ICU of the hospital, but that is not how he wanted to live.

He wanted all his boys to be there (5 boys, 3 across this state and 2 in other parts of the country) before he went to sleep one last time. Once we all were there, we had one last day together. Honestly, it was an amazing day. We all sat around in the room together. We laughed. We cried. We listed to music (Johnny Cash was his favorite). We all said our goodbyes. He was as courageous as a man as I've ever seen in my life on that day. He was quick as a whip. He made everybody in that room laugh all day long. He cheered us up for what was to come. Without that last day with him, I don't know that I'd be holding it together as well as I still am one week later. 

Shortly after 5pm, he said it was time. The nurse came in to start him on the morphine. As soon as the drip was placed to his arm, he faked immediate death only to pop back up seconds later with a laugh and an "I'm just kidding!", causing everybody in the room to groan and then laugh. But then the morphine soon took it's toll and eventually he fell in to his final sleep. Not long after 7:30pm, with Johnny Cash playing softly in the background, surrounded by his sons, his daughter-in-laws, his grand kids, his sisters, and his wife curled up in the bed beside him, he took his final breaths. 

The world lost a one-of-a-kind man one week ago. I'm still trying to accept and process it. I don't think it has really hit me still. I don't know that it ever will. 

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@MonteCarl,

So sorry for your loss. I'm saddened that your dad had to go  but I feel pretty good about him being able to go on his terms and having a wonderful family around him when the time came. 

I'm 61 and have COPD, so I can well relate to being on oxygen 24/7, the disease will get me sooner or later, but it  looks like later, I've had it for almost a decade now, but it hasn't progressed, I can ditch the oxygen for say up to ten minutes at a time if I need to but travel is a big hassle as I have to lug tanks around. 

Stay strong, my friend.

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On 10/25/2018 at 2:26 AM, The Natural said:

Had that assessment in August, one this month (questionnaire to fill in sucked) and waiting to hear back.

*Cyber bro hug*

Depression is the absolute worst. I hope things get better for you, buddy.

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On 12/10/2018 at 1:17 PM, MonteCarl said:

He wanted all his boys to be there (5 boys, 3 across this state and 2 in other parts of the country) before he went to sleep one last time. Once we all were there, we had one last day together. Honestly, it was an amazing day. We all sat around in the room together. We laughed. We cried. We listed to music (Johnny Cash was his favorite). We all said our goodbyes. He was as courageous as a man as I've ever seen in my life on that day. He was quick as a whip. He made everybody in that room laugh all day long. He cheered us up for what was to come. Without that last day with him, I don't know that I'd be holding it together as well as I still am one week later. 

Shortly after 5pm, he said it was time. The nurse came in to start him on the morphine. As soon as the drip was placed to his arm, he faked immediate death only to pop back up seconds later with a laugh and an "I'm just kidding!", causing everybody in the room to groan and then laugh. But then the morphine soon took it's toll and eventually he fell in to his final sleep. Not long after 7:30pm, with Johnny Cash playing softly in the background, surrounded by his sons, his daughter-in-laws, his grand kids, his sisters, and his wife curled up in the bed beside him, he took his final breaths. 

I am so sorry for your loss but, damn, if this ain't a great last day.  I am so thankful that I got to tell my Dad that he was a good dad and have him understand me.  You got to spend the whole day with yours, laughing with your brothers, and enjoying yourselves one last time.  That's pretty much perfect under the circumstances.  And he got to pick when he'd go.  Awesome.

It's never gonna stop hurting but knowing you had that day will make the hurting last not-as-long.

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On 12/8/2018 at 11:39 AM, Contentious C said:

Finished watching all of Californication which might be, on its own, an entry of depression, since it ran at least 3 seasons too long and the last season might be the worst season of TV I've forced myself to watch. 

But the real problem with the show is Natasha McElhone. Not really her fault; she's been a celebrity crush of mine since The Truman Show, but every time she kissed Duchovny, she'd smile through the kiss. 

My ex used to do that all the time, often to my unspoken annoyance. We broke up a year ago after 5 years of more good than bad, and it's never gotten a fucking ounce easier. I wish I could have been annoyed like that for the worst year of my life (and I have some doozies to compare it to).

The thought that keeps coming back to me is, if I kill myself, then I know she'd feel something instead of nothing, but I wouldn't get to know what she felt.  I ended things because I was frustrated and didn't like her emotional distance, but this just all turned out like Diane's Vietnam episode on Bojack. Fixed nothing, changed nothing. Just amplified the worst bits. I was better off unhappy but with her. 

(And spare me the 'ahhhhhh don't hurt yourself ahhhhh!' pearl clutching. It's just irritating.)

I fucking loved Californication, I still say "motherfucker" like Hank, if something especially great or especially annoying happens.  I honestly don't remember anything specific about the last season, just a few general names and plot devices. The only thing that I specifically recall was when Karen got pissed off when Hank told her about Levi. My wife's reaction was "She has no place to be mad. They weren't together at the time, and Hank didn't even know until now!"

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2 hours ago, Tabe said:

I am so sorry for your loss but, damn, if this ain't a great last day.  I am so thankful that I got to tell my Dad that he was a good dad and have him understand me.  You got to spend the whole day with yours, laughing with your brothers, and enjoying yourselves one last time.  That's pretty much perfect under the circumstances.  And he got to pick when he'd go.  Awesome.

It's never gonna stop hurting but knowing you had that day will make the hurting last not-as-long.

It really was the perfect last day. And, like I said in my post, is the only thing keeping me going now. Damn I'll miss having him around, but those last days were just about as good as it could've gotten. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

A couple of weeks ago my therapist agreed that I could come off my anxiety and depression medications, and I've been weening off of them ever since. I just took the last reduced doses about an hour ago. The main reason I started taking them was because I had been trying to transition but kept hitting roadblocks. Losing jobs for being trans, being homeless for a time as a result, dealing with gatekeepers who blocked me from hormone replacement therapy because I didn't meet their exact definition of what a woman was, rejection from family and friends, all of that caused havoc to my mental state. Fortunately that all changed once I found a stable job that cared more about my work than my gender, as well as supportive friends to replace the friends and family who left my life, and was able to start HRT a few years ago. That stability and acceptance made it easier for me to reduce and eventually eliminate those medications.

So, all in all, I feel pretty good. It was a bit of a journey but I'm glad about where and how I ended up.

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Our WiFi has been cutting out between 1 and 4 every day, which isn't conducive to me working from home from 1:30-10. The cable company sent a tech out, who replaced our modem, and when he tried to update the firmware on it, he saw what we've been dealing with. The update should take 20 minutes, it was almost an hour and a half when he finally had to tap out. They've determined that it seems to be an issue with the lines.

 

I'm working from my sister in law's house today, and then I'm off until the 31st.  They told us that a ticket was in to look at the lines. Apparently, they realized that we were going to call them every day and borderline harass them. We got a text today telling us that we could expect the tech to be there on Wednesday.

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So, anyone else celebrate the festive period by going to work, or was it just me?  Plus I got ill as well, which is odd as I'm usually invincible. But yeah, head office said Xmas day hours should be the same as your Sunday hours, and we don't close early on Sundays so I as doing my standard 1500-2300 shift. Double time, yeah, but it was double busy. Apparently everyone who bought enough alcohol for Chrimbo drank it all over the weekend, because I sold all the whiskey and vodka and poncy cider and cheap wine. And it seems a few of them got  smoking habits for Christmas because they bought all the Crushball Dual Fresh taste gimmicks as well.

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On 12/26/2018 at 3:55 PM, AxB said:

So, anyone else celebrate the festive period by going to work, or was it just me?  Plus I got ill as well, which is odd as I'm usually invincible. But yeah, head office said Xmas day hours should be the same as your Sunday hours, and we don't close early on Sundays so I as doing my standard 1500-2300 shift. Double time, yeah, but it was double busy. Apparently everyone who bought enough alcohol for Chrimbo drank it all over the weekend, because I sold all the whiskey and vodka and poncy cider and cheap wine. And it seems a few of them got  smoking habits for Christmas because they bought all the Crushball Dual Fresh taste gimmicks as well.

Practically everyone in my office took a two week holiday, leaving me in charge. The power, shockingly, did not rush to my head.

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It looks like the last 2 weeks of my temporary promotion will be eaten by the federal shutdown. I am not quite paycheck-to-paycheck but it's still gonna suck ass to have to wait, and to come back into a week of full-time phones (usually a small part of my job) because automated letters are still going out but there's no one manning the lines.  On top of that, my apartment flooded due to roof problems. So since Wednesday I've been cooped up in one room, with no TV or PC, afraid to spend any money in case this goes more than just two weeks. All this has not been conducive to my mental health.

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See when I was little, I was always told the polite way to hand someone a pair of scissors is to hold them by the blades and extend them handles first. So that's how I do it. But when the time comes to hand them back to me, everyone just holds them by the handles and has the blades pointed right at my chest. Bunch of bloody barbarians round here, I tell you.

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starting to fool around with my resume. I can make it til the end of Jan without hitting my savings or asking family for a loan, but it'd be nice to have a job that isn't reliant on politicians not being babyfuckers.  Between holidays and furlough, I'm officially at the point where I know what day it is mostly off of what podcasts updated today.

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We just had another tech come over yesterday. He replaced a couple of joints and connectors, and said that we shouldn't have any other speed issues. My desktop is still tracking slow, which he's attitributing to the computer itself since it's an older desktop that runs on Windows 7. But, at least I can work again. I'll sometimes get kicked out of the remote server, but it takes 30 seconds to get back in. As opposed to the week before Christmas when I couldn't do a damn thing for two hours.

 

Hopefully, this won't be an issue much longer, and I can finally get a new job. My father in law is pissed that I passed on applying for a position that was part time/when needed. Since me being on call was never going to work out. And, if I applied and it didn't go anywhere, I can't apply again for six months, so if a full time one opened a week later, I'd be screwed.

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  • 2 weeks later...

So a friend of mine from college works in an office 8 blocks away from where the attack in Nairobi, Kenya just happened. And apparently six months ago when his company was moving offices, they considered space right at the hotel that was attacked.

So I'm glad my friend and his family are safe, but... Jesus.

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