Refrain from telling

Lately, if I bring up my illness at all, I "just" mention depression.  "I have some pretty bad depressions..."  People are fine with that, I'm fine with that, and to quote Clan of the Cave Bear, I don't have to lie,  but I can refrain from telling.

Why do I mention this?  Depression's back.  The mania lasted, what, a week?  I guess that is "Good" clinically.  Doc seems to not want me to have any manias at all.  Not so good: weeks of depression to come, unless God intervenes somehow. 

He might.  You never know. 

Once or twice I have been manic on my birthday, and had a great time. 

I slept OK but woke up exhausted.  I took my shower, did my God time, and watched a little TV.  I helped Ron get ready when he woke up (I prefer to get up hours before the pickup, Ron prefers a much later wakeup). 

We went out to breakfast.  "They" rode us around for a while.  We rode with a blind, diabetic, lady on dialysis.  Even worse, her husband was basically in hospice, dying.  She was, understandably, very broken up about it. 

What do you say to that?  Ron told her about when he died, how it wasn't a big deal, and how great heaven was for him.  Death is like a circuit breaker tripping, he told her.  They talked for a while and then we let her out. 

We got to our breakfast place and had a good time.  We had enough time, which is good.  They were only going to leave us there 20 minutes but Ron had them fix it. 

We were supposed to have the same driver, but they gave us a different one.  We picked up someone from dialysis (this is why I feel comfortable saying I will not do dialysis - I have seen probably thousands of dialysis patients and they are all miserable, sick, and weak.  No thanks), and dropped him off at a trailer I could only describe as a "hellhole".  It looked like a tear-down, surrounded by a hoard of useless crap.  I feel sorry for whoever will be closing out his estate when he dies.  They will have a horrific time cleaning the place.  Seats from a car mingled with broken (?) microwaves, sitting in the rain.  At least he didn't have a vicious dog. 

We almost ran over a terrier mix running loose, as we left the "subdivision", then we headed home.  When we got home I found a huge stray dog, with big sad eyes, moping in my yard, wanting to be my dog.  I shooed it off. 

Happily it stayed gone as I got Ron in the house, but I had Ron call animal control to pick it up.  Somehow Ron ended up dialing the non emergency police line, and our friendly neighborhood officer came by looking for the dog. 

Ron was absolutely horrible to this man back in 2011, during a horrific blackout.  He stood outside cursing the man for a good 20 minutes.  It was awful.  Then the poor officer got called back when we were robbed.  He remembered us.  I was very embarrassed. 

Ron called the station and apologized for his behavior the year before, and (liar!) said he had quit drinking.  "I meant" he told me "So much" We haven't seen him until today, when he called Ron, asking about the dog. 

Ron told him, reiterating it was a nice dog, probably spooked by the thunderstorms, and hoping that perhaps the dog could be scanned for a microchip and returned to his (?) owner.  Officer B said he would look. 

I took a nap, having a hard time falling asleep.  I was sorry I had when I had a nightmare.  I woke up feeling worse than when I had gone to sleep. 

Maybe I need to take my lithium before my nap.  I got up, ate some pizza, and took my lithium.  That helped, a little, with the depression. 

I worked on cleaning and organizing the front room.  I talked to Ron about our food options when we go to that conference.  Do we go out to eat at the restaurants, eat at the hotel, or bring our own?  Ron suggested we bring our own.  I agree. 

He also scared me today.  After he got his vodka delivery (!! not happy people are bringing him booze!), he took an empty vodka bottle and filled it partway with water.  "Can you help?" He asked, extending it to me. 

"Help with what?"  He showed me a 2-quart package of drink mix.  "I want to make some lemonade, can you pour the powder in the bottle for me?"  I supposed I could.  I did it.  He finished filling the bottle, took a drink, and proclaimed it "delicious". 

So now we have a 750 ml "Vodka" bottle, full of yellow liquid, sitting in the fridge.  Oh-kay.  He also uses empty (cleaned) vodka bottles to refill the cats' water bowls.  That really freaked me out the first time he did that. 

I teased him, if (when!) we get robbed again they will probably take all the "vodka", only to find that half of it is water.  Oh, well. 

Oh, and I had problems with the shower curtain rod falling down today.  I may get a new rod tomorrow, depending on how my shower goes.  Ron did call our handyman to come out and put some brackets so the rod won't fall down again.  I'm sure he can figure something out, and also paint the bathroom ceiling. 

Greg (the handyman) said he had his cataract surgery so he is good to go now.  Great.  It's good to have him back. 

I would also like to have him put a grab bar, and a shelf, in Ron's room, along with some blinds.  Ron really needs some blinds for his privacy.  He doesn't care, being blind. 

Well, I'm starting to get tired again so I'm going to try to go to bed early.  I don't want to spend all my energy sitting on the computer. 

Have a good one!  I pray you never get depressed.