<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216</id><updated>2012-02-16T05:11:34.006-06:00</updated><category term='Personal'/><category term='Biblical'/><category term='Symptoms'/><category term='Hospital'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Medications'/><category term='Humor'/><category term='Causes'/><category term='The Invisible Desease'/><category term='Remember'/><category term='Death'/><category term='Types'/><category term='Diagnosis'/><category term='What To Say/Not to Say'/><title type='text'>Through Dark Waters</title><subtitle type='html'>Safely Home by Ron Dicianni</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>58</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-337105352781844405</id><published>2011-02-17T16:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T16:17:27.769-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>My 15 year-old grandson</title><content type='html'>Wichita wrestler talks about broken neck, stroke&lt;br /&gt;February 16, 2011|By Megan Strader | KWCH 12 Eyewitness News&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(WICHITA, Kan.) — Both are running on very little sleep, but Kaleb Ball and his dad Nick can still remember every detail of what happened Saturday afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"His head just completely tucked up under him and his chin went into his chest and both of their weight went down on it," recalls Nick Ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just heard the loudest snap I've ever heard, you could just tell something was wrong," said Kaleb.&lt;br /&gt;AdvertisementAds by Google&lt;br /&gt;Spinal Cord Injury&lt;br /&gt;Over 50% Improvement Rate. Learn about Stem Cell Therapy Here SpinalCordInjurySciTreatment.com"When I saw his neck I was terrified. I knew it was serious."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While wrestling at a tournament this past weekend Kaleb broke the fourth vertebrae in his neck - needing three surgeries to repair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while the Northwest High School freshman is still in a lot of pain, he knows he's lucky things weren't worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All I'm dealing with is pain, that's better than being paralyzed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaleb did end up suffering a stroke - likely from the damage to the blood supply to his brain. So even though he'll be released from the hospital on Thursday, he'll report straight to a rehab center to help restore of the functions of the left side of his body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They told me that how much I progressed in one day is how much they expect to see someone progress in two weeks. So, they said I'm doing really good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with being a wrestler, Kaleb is a straight "A" student and a musician. So while he may never wrestle again, the goal is to return him to doing the other things he loves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick Ball tells Eyewitness News, "If anyone can have a 100% recovery it's this kid right there, for sure."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaleb and is family say they're overwhelmed by the outpouring of support they've received. Kaleb hopes to be back in school within a few weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-337105352781844405?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/337105352781844405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-15-year-old-grandson.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/337105352781844405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/337105352781844405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-15-year-old-grandson.html' title='My 15 year-old grandson'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-3443422373337738282</id><published>2011-02-09T21:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T21:23:45.361-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Last Journey</title><content type='html'>His family is gathered round the bed: the room quiet save for the sound of labored breathing.  He reaches out a feeble hand only to have it immediately grasped by two strong masculine ones.&lt;br /&gt;‘’Is that you boy?’’ he asks in a quavering voice.&lt;br /&gt;‘’Yes Dad, its me.  I’m right here.  We’re all here. Even your new great grandson is here to see you. &lt;br /&gt;‘’Let me see the child.  I want to see him before its time.’’&lt;br /&gt;‘’Now don’t be talking like that Dad.  You’ll be out of here in no time.’’&lt;br /&gt;He looks deep into the eyes of his beloved son and sees only an abiding love.&lt;br /&gt;‘’We both know how I’ll be leaving this room Jason.&lt;br /&gt;Jason begins to weep softly’’&lt;br /&gt;‘’Now, now. My pain will soon be over and look at that beautiful grandson that you to help raise.  You have to be there for him.  You have to take my place.  Now hush up and let me see the boy.’’&lt;br /&gt;His granddaughter pushes her way up to the bed.&lt;br /&gt;‘’Isn’t he the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen Papa?  We named him after you.  His name is Darrel Alan.’’&lt;br /&gt;Amidst all his pain he manages a sigh of contentment. Life had not been easy but he had been able to pull it off and close his life out with peace and contentment.  Yes, and lots of love.&lt;br /&gt;Jason brushes a strand of gray hair from his father’s forehead.&lt;br /&gt;‘’We’re all right here Dad.  We’re all here.  Dad?  Dad?  Daddy?  Wake up Daddy.  Daddy please wake up.  Jason cries softly.&lt;br /&gt;He gasps and opens his eyes.  There is no sense of feeling.  No up or down,  nothing but darkness.&lt;br /&gt;‘’Isn’t there supposed to be a bright light to follow or something?  &lt;br /&gt;A soft voice whispers, ‘’Wait.  Be patient and wait.’’&lt;br /&gt;He heeds the voice and waits quietly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-3443422373337738282?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/3443422373337738282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2011/02/last-journey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3443422373337738282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3443422373337738282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2011/02/last-journey.html' title='The Last Journey'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-1715427812199876371</id><published>2009-11-12T12:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T12:15:45.270-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medications'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hospital'/><title type='text'>Hospital</title><content type='html'>.&lt;br /&gt;So I just got out of the hospital yesterday.  AGAIN!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctors told me I had an overdose of one of my antidepressants.  This is the second time this year that I have overdosed on antidepressants.  The first was Lithium in May.  It sent me into a coma and I was in ICU for three days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time it was Equetro which caused severe vertigo and constant vomiting.&lt;br /&gt;Because of my adverse reactions I have been taken off all depressants save Luvox which seems to have no affect whatsoever (placebo)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without my antidepressants I am once again plunged into the deep abyss of depression.  I think it is almost as hard for Sherry as it is for me.  She told me the other night that it hurt her so to see me in such pain.  But what can I do?  The doctors are afraid to prescribe anything new since my kidneys shut down and Lithium built up in my system and caused me to go into a coma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Were it not for my daughter I would probably be with the Lord right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My doctor told me I am a triple threat………..&lt;br /&gt;1. Congestive Heart Failure,&lt;br /&gt;2. Pulmonary Hypertension&lt;br /&gt;3. Asthma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I feel sorry for myself?  No, I just wish it would end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-1715427812199876371?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/1715427812199876371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/11/hospital.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1715427812199876371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1715427812199876371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/11/hospital.html' title='Hospital'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-3184531170714015550</id><published>2009-11-08T14:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T14:44:20.281-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><title type='text'>Circumstances of my Death</title><content type='html'>.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I've posted this already but I guess I want people to know;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you of the circumstances of my death&lt;br /&gt;I died in the summer of 1975&lt;br /&gt;I was 27 years old and was a very successful production manager.  I had about 100 employees.  I had a private office on the mezzanine.  I used to look out my window and wonder if this was what I was going to do the rest of my life. Was I going to spend the rest of my life watching other people work? &lt;br /&gt;I decided to sit down and set some goals for the rest of my life.  If I could do anything I wanted, what would I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The goals I finally settled on and wrote down were:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.    I want to teach others how to lead successful Christian lives&lt;br /&gt;2.    I want to be involved with pubic speaking&lt;br /&gt;3.    I want to be financially independent&lt;br /&gt;4.    I want my income to be residual&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.... i. I had seen so many Christians who equated poverty with piety.  I wanted ..... to teach them that God wants us to be prosperous&lt;br /&gt;.... ii.    I had found out from taking the Dale Carnegie course in public speaking ..... that I had a real knack for public speaking&lt;br /&gt;.... iii.    I wanted the financial success that I was going to teach about&lt;br /&gt;.... iv.    I thought a residual income would maybe be a book&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished my Bachelor’s Degree and picked up my new family and moved them to Ft Worth where I could pursue a Master’s degree in Christian Education.  I figured if anyone could teach me the secrets of Christian success, it would be a Seminary&lt;br /&gt;I tried time and again to get into something that would allow me to fulfill my goals.  Nothing worked.  Finally after five years I gave up, came back to Wichita, got my old job back and died inside&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you could say I took the poison when I was 27 and died when I was 32.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-3184531170714015550?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/3184531170714015550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/11/circumstances-of-my-death.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3184531170714015550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3184531170714015550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/11/circumstances-of-my-death.html' title='Circumstances of my Death'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-6715368312061478642</id><published>2009-10-24T14:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T12:48:32.713-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Biblical'/><title type='text'>From a Friend</title><content type='html'>.&lt;br /&gt;On October 17th a good friend of mine wrote this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was also totally blown away when I read that God met Moses at an inn on his way to Egypt with the intention of killing him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is well reading the whole article:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://dementiafor2.blogspot.com/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-6715368312061478642?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/6715368312061478642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/10/from-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/6715368312061478642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/6715368312061478642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/10/from-friend.html' title='From a Friend'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-6391658767905955955</id><published>2009-10-16T18:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T18:14:42.404-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Diagnosis'/><title type='text'>Diagnosis</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Notice how often the word ‘mood’ is used?  As is ‘bad mood’?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM IV)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mood Disorders&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The depressive disorders under a category in the DSM-IV called Mood Disorders. Included in this category are&lt;br /&gt;1.    Major depressive disorder,&lt;br /&gt;2.    A chronic mood disorder&lt;br /&gt;3.    Bipolar disorder,&lt;br /&gt;4.    A milder form of bipolar II consisting of recurrent mood disturbances between a mood state  of elevated or irritable mood and chronic depression mood&lt;br /&gt;5.    Mood disorder due to a general medical condition,&lt;br /&gt;a.    seasonal affective disorder&lt;br /&gt;b.    substance-induced mood disorder.&lt;br /&gt;6.    Premenstrual disorder - refers only to a condition of mood and may be experienced in response to ordinary life events, such as illness or grief&lt;br /&gt;7.    Postpartum depression, has been proposed as a diagnosis for further study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once a diagnosis of a particular mood disorder is made, more detailed information about the diagnosis can be provided in the form of "specifiers."&lt;br /&gt;For instance;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.    Major Depressive Disorder, Single Episode, Moderate, With Atypical Features&lt;br /&gt;2.    Major Depressive Disorder, Single Episode, Moderate, With Melancholic Features&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both diagnoses indicate the presence of the mood disorder- major depressive disorder.&lt;br /&gt;Specifiers associated with the mood disorders are listed below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.    Mild: A few symptoms, if any, are present beyond what is needed to make a diagnosis, and a person can function normally although with extra effort.&lt;br /&gt;2.    Moderate: The severity of symptoms is between mild and severe. For a manic episode, a person's activity is increased or judgment is impaired.&lt;br /&gt;3.    Severe Without Psychotic Features: Most symptoms are present and a person clearly has little or no ability to function.&lt;br /&gt;4.    A manic or mixed episode, a person needs to be supervised to protect him/her from harm to self or others.&lt;br /&gt;5.    Severe With Psychotic Features:&lt;br /&gt;....a.    A person experiences hallucinations or delusions.&lt;br /&gt;....b.    The presence of delusions and hallucinations often interfere with a person's ability to make sound judgments about consequences of their actions.&lt;br /&gt;....c.    A person in this condition needs immediate medical attention and possibly hospitalization.&lt;br /&gt;6.    Single Episode/Recurrent: A first episode is considered "single," subsequent episodes are "recurrent."&lt;br /&gt;7.    Chronic: For at least two years a person's symptoms have met criteria for a major depressive episode.&lt;br /&gt;8.    Catatonic Features: Unusual behaviors or movements such as immobility, excessive activity that is purposeless, rigid or peculiar posturing, mimicking others' words or behaviors.&lt;br /&gt;9.    Melancholic Features: A loss of pleasure in most activities or an inability to feel better, even for a short time when something pleasurable happens. Also, at least three of following is present:&lt;br /&gt;....a.    The depressed mood is distinct (i.e., unlike feelings of bereavement),&lt;br /&gt;....b.    It is worse in the morning, a person wakes too early in the morning&lt;br /&gt;....c.    There is distinct agitation or movements are slowed down&lt;br /&gt;....d.    Substantial weight loss/gain&lt;br /&gt;....e.    Extreme feelings of guilt.&lt;br /&gt;10.    Atypical Features:&lt;br /&gt;....a.    During the last two weeks of major depression or bipolar disorder&lt;br /&gt;....b.    Or the last two years of chronic depression,&lt;br /&gt;....c.    A person is able to experience brightened mood when good things happen&lt;br /&gt;11.    Postpartum Onset: The depressive episode begins within four weeks of giving birth.&lt;br /&gt;12.    With/Without Full Interepisode Recovery: Describes a long-term course of major depression or bipolar disorder.&lt;br /&gt;13.    Seasonal Pattern: Describes a pattern of depressive episodes which tend to begin (usually fall or winter) and end (usually spring).&lt;br /&gt;14.    Rapid-Cycling: Describes a recurrent pattern of depressive and manic episodes in bipolar disorder.&lt;br /&gt;....a.    A person has had at least four mood episodes during the last 12 months.&lt;br /&gt;....b.    There is either a general absence of symptoms between episodes or a clear switch from depression to mania.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-6391658767905955955?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/6391658767905955955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/10/diagnosis.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/6391658767905955955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/6391658767905955955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/10/diagnosis.html' title='Diagnosis'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-8338594093586260022</id><published>2009-09-30T13:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T21:47:32.598-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humor'/><title type='text'>Did You Know This?</title><content type='html'>.&lt;br /&gt;NOT WORTH A TINKER'S-DAM&lt;br /&gt; A tinker was an individual who traveled Old England sharping scissors,knives and repairing holes in cooking pots.  A wall of clay  around a hole in th pot and filled with solder. This repaired the hole.  The cl&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SsTK5gnotSI/AAAAAAAAAWo/8j1yQbYWvfM/s1600-h/Pot.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 203px; height: 177px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SsTK5gnotSI/AAAAAAAAAWo/8j1yQbYWvfM/s320/Pot.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387654143599490338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ay can be used only once; after that it is thrown away as worthless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;APPLE OF MY EYE&lt;br /&gt;This phrase comes from the Bible. In Psalm 17:8 the writer asks God ‘keep me as the apple of your eye’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAKERS DOZEN&lt;br /&gt;Means thirteen. It is said to come from the days when bakers were severely punished for baking underweight loaves. Some added a loaf to a batch of a dozen to be above suspicion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BIG WIG&lt;br /&gt;In the 18th century when many men wore wigs, the most important men wore the biggest wigs. Hence today important people are called big wigs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BITE THE BULLET&lt;br /&gt;Means to grin and bear a painful situation. It comes from the days before anesthetics. A soldier about to undergo an operation was given a bullet to bite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BITTER END&lt;br /&gt;Anchor cable was wrapped around posts called bitts. The last piece of cable was called the bitter end. If you let out the cable to the bitter end there was nothing else you could do, you had reached the end of your resources.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BLUE-BLOOD&lt;br /&gt;Means aristocratic. For centuries the Arabs occupied Spain but they were gradually forced out during the Middle Ages. The upper class in Spain had paler skin than most of the population as their ancestors had not inter-married with the Arabs. As they had pale skin the blue blood running through their veins was more visible. So blue-blooded came to mean upper class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BORN WITH A SILVER SPOON IN YOUR MOUTH&lt;br /&gt;Once when a child was christened it was traditional for the godparents to give a silver spoon as a gift (if they could afford it!). However a child born in a rich family did not have to wait. He or she had it all from the start. They were ‘born with a silver spoon in their mouth’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COLD ENOUGH TO FREEZE THE BALLS OFF A BRASS MONKEY&lt;br /&gt;A brass monkey was a brass rack on which iron cannonballs were stacked. If it were very cold the brass rack would contract faster than the iron balls. The balls would fall off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT AND RUN&lt;br /&gt;In an emergency rather than haul up an anchor the sailors would cut the anchor cable then run with the wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE DEVIL TO PAY&lt;br /&gt;Originally this saying was devil to pay and no hot pitch. In a sailing ship a devil was the seam between planks. This had to be made waterproof. Fibers from old ropes were first hammered into the seam and then pitch (a tar-like substance) was poured (or paid) onto it. If you had the devil to pay and no hot pitch you were in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DON’T LOOK A GIFT HORSE IN THE MOUTH&lt;br /&gt;Don’t examine a gift too closely! You can tell a horse’s age by looking at its teeth, which is why people ‘looked a horse in the mouth’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FLASH IN THE PAN&lt;br /&gt;Muskets had a priming pan, which was filled with gunpowder. When flint hit steel it ignited the powder in the pan, which in turn ignited the main charge of gunpowder and fired the musket ball. However, sometimes the powder in the pan failed to light the main charge. In that case you had a flash in the pan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GO THE EXTRA MILE&lt;br /&gt;By law a Roman soldier could force anybody to carry his equipment 1 mile. In Matthew 5:41 Jesus told his followers ‘if somebody forced you to go 1 mile go 2 miles with him’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BY HOOK OR BY CROOK&lt;br /&gt;The ‘hook’ was a billhook, a tool for cutting hedges and the crook was a shepherd’s crook. If you could reach a branch ‘by hook or by crook’ you could cut it and use it for firewood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KNOW THE ROPES&lt;br /&gt;On a sailing ship it was essential to know the ropes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAD AS A HATTER&lt;br /&gt;The most is offered in "The Journal of the American Medical Association" (vol. 155, no. 3). Mercury used to be used in the manufacture of felt hats, so hatters, or hat makers, would come into contact with this poisonous metal a lot. Unfortunately, the effect of such exposure may lead to mercury poisoning, one of the symptoms of which is insanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOT ENOUGH ROOM TO SWING A CAT&lt;br /&gt;Comes from the use of a kind of whip called a cat o’ nine tails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A PIG IN A POKE&lt;br /&gt;Something bought without checking it first. A poke was a bag. If you bought a pig in a poke it might turn out the ‘pig’ was actually a puppy or a cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SPINSTER&lt;br /&gt;A Spinster is an unmarried woman. Originally a spinster was simply a woman who made her living by spinning wool on a spinning wheel. However it was so common for single women to support themselves that way that by the 18th century ’spinster’ was a synonym for a middle-aged unmarried woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;START FROM SCRATCH&lt;br /&gt;This phrase comes from the days when a line was scratched in the ground for a race. The racers would start from the scratch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STRAIGHT LACED&lt;br /&gt;This phrase was originally STRAIT laces. The old English word strait meant tight or narrow. In Tudor times buttons were mostly for decoration. Laces were used to hold clothes together. If a woman was STRAIT laced she was prim and proper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WEAR YOUR HEART ON YOUR SLEEVE&lt;br /&gt;In the Middle Ages knights who fought at tournaments wore a token of their lady on their sleeves. Today if you make your feelings obvious to everybody you wear your heart on your sleeve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHIPPING BOY&lt;br /&gt;Prince Edward, later Edward VI, had a boy who was whipped in his place every time he was naughty.  No one was allowed to touch the Royal Prince.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RULE OF THUMB&lt;br /&gt;In the1400's a law was set forth in England that a man was allowed to beat his wife with a stick no thicker than his thumb.  Hence, we have 'the rule of thumb.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOLF&lt;br /&gt;Many years ago in Scotland, a new game was invented. It was ruled 'Gentlemen  Only. Ladies Forbidden'…... and thus, the word GOLF  entered into the English language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SLEEPING TOGETHER&lt;br /&gt;The first couple to be shown in bed together on prime time TV was Fred and  Wilma Flintstone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONEY&lt;br /&gt;Every day more money is printed for Monopoly than the U.S. Treasury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;READING &amp;amp; HEARING&lt;br /&gt;Men can read smaller print than women can; women can hear better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ELBOW&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SsO1MON8VTI/AAAAAAAAAWY/MMKH8pZB0NI/s1600-h/Dog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 235px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SsO1MON8VTI/AAAAAAAAAWY/MMKH8pZB0NI/s320/Dog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387348800844879154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is impossible to lick your elbow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WILDERNESS&lt;br /&gt;The percentage of Africa that is wilderness: 28%&lt;br /&gt;The percentage of North America that is wilderness: 38%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOGS&lt;br /&gt;The cost of raising a medium-size dog to the age of eleven:  $16,400&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOVEL&lt;br /&gt;The first novel ever written on a typewriter; Tom Sawyer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MONUMENTS&lt;br /&gt;The San Francisco Cable cars are mobile National Monuments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CARDS&lt;br /&gt;Each king in a deck of playing cards represents a great king from history:&lt;br /&gt;Spades - King David&lt;br /&gt;Hearts - Charlemagne&lt;br /&gt;Clubs - Alexander, the Great&lt;br /&gt;Diamonds - Julius Caesar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MULTIPLY&lt;br /&gt;111,111,111 x  111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987, 654,321&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STATUE&lt;br /&gt;If a statue in the park of a person on a horse has both front legs in the air, the person died in battle. If the horse has one front leg in the air, the person died because of wounds received in batt&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SsTF6FXaq5I/AAAAAAAAAWg/ZeH-qhsJj-k/s1600-h/Statue.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 189px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SsTF6FXaq5I/AAAAAAAAAWg/ZeH-qhsJj-k/s320/Statue.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387648655905434514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;le. If the horse has all four legs on the ground, the person died of natural causes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DECLARATION&lt;br /&gt;Only two people signed the Declaration of Independence on July 4, John Hancock and Charles Thomson.  Most of the rest signed on August 2, but the last signature wasn't added until 5 years later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NUMBERS&lt;br /&gt;If you were to spell out numbers, how far would you have to go until you would find the letter 'A'?&lt;br /&gt;One thousand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOOD&lt;br /&gt;What is the only food that doesn't spoil?&lt;br /&gt;Honey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MATRESSES&lt;br /&gt;In the time of Shakespeare mattresses were secured on bed frames by ropes.  When you pulled on the ropes, the mattress tightened;  making the bed firmer to sleep on. Thus the phrase....'Goodnight, sleep tight'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DRINKING&lt;br /&gt;In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts. So, in old England, when customers got unruly, the bartender would yell at them, ‘Mind your pints and quarts, and settle down.'  It's where we get the phrase 'mind your P's and  Q's'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;READ THIS&lt;br /&gt;I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid  Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it  deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the first and last ltteer  be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you  can still raed it wouthit a porbelm. This is bcuseae the  huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the  wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-8338594093586260022?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/8338594093586260022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/09/did-you-know-this.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8338594093586260022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8338594093586260022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/09/did-you-know-this.html' title='Did You Know This?'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SsTK5gnotSI/AAAAAAAAAWo/8j1yQbYWvfM/s72-c/Pot.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-8806541288141693152</id><published>2009-09-12T12:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T12:50:30.029-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Remember'/><title type='text'>Prayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mary had a little Lamb,&lt;br /&gt;His fleece was white as snow.&lt;br /&gt;And everywhere that Mary went,&lt;br /&gt;The Lamb was sure to go.&lt;br /&gt;He followed her to school each day,&lt;br /&gt;‘Twas not against the rule.&lt;br /&gt;It made the children laugh and play,&lt;br /&gt;To have the Lamb at school.&lt;br /&gt;And then the rules all changed one day,&lt;br /&gt;Illegal it became;&lt;br /&gt;To bring the Lamb of God to school,&lt;br /&gt;Or even speak His name.&lt;br /&gt;Every day got worse and worse,&lt;br /&gt;And days turned into years.&lt;br /&gt;Instead of hearing children laughter,&lt;br /&gt;We heard gun shots and tears.&lt;br /&gt;What must we do to stop the shame&lt;br /&gt;That’s in our schools today?&lt;br /&gt;Let’s let the Lamb of God come back,&lt;br /&gt;And teach our kids to pray!&lt;br /&gt;Amen&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Is there a direct correlation between what you say and what you do?&lt;br /&gt;You be the judge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-8806541288141693152?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/8806541288141693152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/09/prayer.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8806541288141693152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8806541288141693152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/09/prayer.html' title='Prayer'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-793491683395280844</id><published>2009-09-01T17:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T18:41:59.132-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Sherry</title><content type='html'>.&lt;br /&gt;Sherry’s in surgery and I wait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Across from me a family of twelve waits for news of their loved one.  He’s in for open-heart surgery.  Their concern is palpable and rightly so.  He could so easily slip away into that great dark night from which no one returns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unbidden, dark thoughts crowd my mind; demanding attention.  All the what-ifs clamber for attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if the infection spreads?  What if it overruns her defenses and she follows her sister, mother, and father to that place where I can not go?   What if she leaves me and I am left to travel the corridors of time alone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STOP!  Stop thinking like this!  Stop thinking these selfish thoughts.  Its only the depression trying to worm its way back into my mind. This is simple surgery and I’ll see her again shortly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what if I lose her?  What will I do?  She is the light around which my life revolves.  I don’t want life without her.  We have been married almost half of our lives.  I can’t conceive of life without her.  What would be the point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is life without Sherry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The volunteer behind the desk jars me from the downward spiral of my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘’Can I get you some coffee or coco Mr. Lavender?’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shake my head and mutter a, ‘’No thank you.’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grateful for the reprieve from these depressing thoughts, I get up to stretch my legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the hallway I get a drink and turn back to the waiting room.  I pass a nurse pushing a gurney.  I don’t look.  It’s so invasive to stare at another at what is for many the lowest point in their lives.  Don’t look.  Leave them what little dignity they have left. Just walk on by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t look.  Just walk on by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nurse pushing the gurney stops and turns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/Sp2jUkU7H2I/AAAAAAAAAWI/7WIkFEg0vEg/s1600-h/Treasure_Chest_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 153px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/Sp2jUkU7H2I/AAAAAAAAAWI/7WIkFEg0vEg/s320/Treasure_Chest_3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376633103894388578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘’Mr. Lavender?’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn and see the greatest treasure my heart has ever held; Sherry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sherry is home now and doing fine.  All my fears were just the wanderings of a frightened mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my treasure back.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-793491683395280844?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/793491683395280844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/09/sherry.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/793491683395280844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/793491683395280844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/09/sherry.html' title='Sherry'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/Sp2jUkU7H2I/AAAAAAAAAWI/7WIkFEg0vEg/s72-c/Treasure_Chest_3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-2131335037934454442</id><published>2009-08-27T18:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T18:10:13.233-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Human Relations</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I ran across this in my therapist’s office&lt;br /&gt;I thought it would be nice to share it with my friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Short Course In Human Relations&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Six Most Important Words&lt;br /&gt;‘’I Admit I Made A Mistake’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Five Most Important Words&lt;br /&gt;‘’You Did A Good Job’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Four Most Important Words&lt;br /&gt;‘’What Is Your Opinion’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Three Most Important Words&lt;br /&gt;‘’If You Please’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Two Most Important Words&lt;br /&gt;‘’Thank You’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The One Most Important Word&lt;br /&gt;‘’We’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Least Important Word&lt;br /&gt;‘’I’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Author unkown&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-2131335037934454442?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/2131335037934454442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/human-relations.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2131335037934454442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2131335037934454442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/human-relations.html' title='Human Relations'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-401796843074263147</id><published>2009-08-18T13:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T14:46:35.456-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Dark Past</title><content type='html'>On the tenth floor of a fine hotel in the colony of Hong Kong I sit on the edge of the bed with two of my younger brothers and listen as the battle rages in the next room. Inexplicably I’m drawn to the door that joins the two rooms, It’s neither courage nor curiosity that fuels my determination for I know what I’ll f&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/So77YhofGvI/AAAAAAAAAV4/jP4ISFUtG2I/s1600-h/Angry+Man+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 201px; height: 194px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/So77YhofGvI/AAAAAAAAAV4/jP4ISFUtG2I/s320/Angry+Man+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372507804263193330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ind when I cross the threshold.  Rivers of red rage sweep through the room, crashing against the ceiling, flowing down the walls rushing back to engulf the man in the center of the room; my father.  I see that his anger is fueled by this red river though he seems oblivious to the fact that he is the center of terrible demonic forces.  His rage encompasses the entire room as it feeds and is fed by his emotional state.&lt;br /&gt;The rage sweeps through the room and out to the balcony to crash incessantly against the woman who has retreated to this last corner.  In her arms she holds a small child, my youngest brother.  The rivers of red rage swell around her as she tries to protect herself and her child from the influence of this poison.  It is evident that she is losing the battle because as I enter the room I hear her cry, “If you don’t stop I’ll drop him over the edge!”  She holds my baby brother out over the edge of the balcony and looks to the street some 100 feet below.&lt;br /&gt;“Go ahead and drop him.  Then you can go to prison as a murderer,” My father responds.&lt;br /&gt;I wade through the bloody anger to stop in front of my mother.  As I hold out my hands I look into her eyes.  I see nothing but a desperate love.  Here is a woman who has been pushed into a terrible and lonely corner.  There is no one to hold her tight and whisper, “Everything will be alright.”  No one to hold her hand and say, “I love you and will be with you even in the bad times.”  I look into her eyes and see through the terror and the pain, the woman that has loved and cared for me from the time I drew my first breath.  What can I give her to make it better?  Nothing.  I have no power to add to or detract from the poison washing throughout the ro&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/So78CilX3II/AAAAAAAAAWA/x53w2LThBIo/s1600-h/Demon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 263px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/So78CilX3II/AAAAAAAAAWA/x53w2LThBIo/s320/Demon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372508526073076866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;om.  All I can do is remove my brother from scene of this emotional sinkhole.&lt;br /&gt;“Give him to me.”  Am I afraid that my mother will actually do something to my brother?  The way she has treated my siblings and me in the past assures me that she would give her own life before she allowed any harm to come to one of her children.  No, that is not even an issue.  I’m not here to rescue my brother from my mother but to assist my mother in removing him from a volatile environment.&lt;br /&gt;I take the child from her, turn and wade back through the raging poison.  As I close the door behind me, I hear and feel the anger rising once again.&lt;br /&gt;I still walk this dark past.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-401796843074263147?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/401796843074263147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/dark-past.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/401796843074263147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/401796843074263147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/dark-past.html' title='Dark Past'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/So77YhofGvI/AAAAAAAAAV4/jP4ISFUtG2I/s72-c/Angry+Man+5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-3729564373955631653</id><published>2009-08-12T18:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T19:15:52.226-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Dancing In The Dark?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SoNT2GdbGNI/AAAAAAAAAVI/wNiPxef0SOQ/s1600-h/Dancing_in_the_Dark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SoNT2GdbGNI/AAAAAAAAAVI/wNiPxef0SOQ/s320/Dancing_in_the_Dark.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369227369667827922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife just got back from our doctor.  She went to see him about the problems she’s having with her sinuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said all our doctor wanted to talk about was me.  How’s Darrel doing?  Is he feeling better?  Is his new medication working?  Why don’t you send him in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, by the way, how do you feel Sherry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want to be the center of attention.  I don’t want to take attention away from my wife’s problems.&lt;br /&gt;I just want to go away somewhere dark and cold.&lt;br /&gt;I have a song by Bruce Springsteen playing over and over again.  I’ve changed the words so they fit me…………..I’m soooooooooo tired&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get up in the morning, and I ain’t got nothing to say&lt;br /&gt;I come home in the evening, I go to bed feeling the same way&lt;br /&gt;I ain’t nothing but tired, man I’m just tired and bored with myself&lt;br /&gt;I could use just a little help….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can’t start a fire...you can’t start a fire without a spark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Message keeps getting cloudy, radio’s on and I’m moving round the place&lt;br /&gt;I check myself in the mirror.  I wanna change my clothes my hair my face&lt;br /&gt;Man I ain’t getting nowhere just living in a dump like this&lt;br /&gt;There’s something happening somewhere, I just know that there is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can’t start a fire...you can’t start a fire without a spark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You sit around getting older… there’s a joke here somewhere and it’s on me&lt;br /&gt;I’ll feel this world on my shoulders and the laughs on me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say you got to stay hungry.  I’m just about starving tonight&lt;br /&gt;I’m dying for some action. &lt;br /&gt;I’m sick of sitting round here trying to write this book&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can’t start a fire...sitting around crying of a broken heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I filled with self-pity?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-3729564373955631653?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/3729564373955631653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/dancing-in-dark.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3729564373955631653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3729564373955631653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/dancing-in-dark.html' title='Dancing In The Dark?'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SoNT2GdbGNI/AAAAAAAAAVI/wNiPxef0SOQ/s72-c/Dancing_in_the_Dark.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-6794699863377575735</id><published>2009-08-09T13:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T15:38:56.603-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>Depression Is Not a Mood</title><content type='html'>Just thought I'd post this again .  This blog is about depression, but as you can see by the symptoms, its difficult to actually sit down and write something.  Would that I could.  I'd pen lines of joy and happiness; lines of hope and a future.  I don't know........would number 11 do any good?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When You're Depressed...&lt;br /&gt;1.    You feel sad or cry a lot and it doesn't go away.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/Sn8zeSsvWnI/AAAAAAAAAVA/I0i_IvVE7lA/s1600-h/Man.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 197px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/Sn8zeSsvWnI/AAAAAAAAAVA/I0i_IvVE7lA/s320/Man.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368065876357503602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.    You feel guilty for no real reason; you feel like you're no good; you've lost your confidence.&lt;br /&gt;3.    Life seems meaningless or like nothing good is ever going to happen again.&lt;br /&gt;4.    You have a negative attitude a lot of the time, or it seems like you have no feelings.&lt;br /&gt;5.    You don't feel like doing a lot of the things you used to like -- like music, sports, being with friends, going out -- and you want to be left alone most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;6.    It's hard to make up your mind. You forget lots of things, and it's hard to concentrate.&lt;br /&gt;7.    You get irritated often. Little things make you lose your temper; you overreact.&lt;br /&gt;8.    Your sleep pattern changes; you start sleeping a lot more or you have trouble falling asleep at night. Or you wake up really early most mornings and can't get back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;9.    Your eating habits change; you've lost your appetite or you eat a lot more.&lt;br /&gt;10.    You feel restless and tired most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;11.    You think about death, or feel like you're dying, or have thoughts about committing suicide.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-6794699863377575735?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/6794699863377575735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/depression-is-not-mood.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/6794699863377575735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/6794699863377575735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/depression-is-not-mood.html' title='Depression Is Not a Mood'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/Sn8zeSsvWnI/AAAAAAAAAVA/I0i_IvVE7lA/s72-c/Man.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-7466369008442568500</id><published>2009-08-05T11:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T16:10:09.405-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Life's Lessons</title><content type='html'>.&lt;br /&gt;My sister sent me this and I found some real words of wisdom.  Hope you enjoy it as much as I did&lt;br /&gt;darrel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Written By Regina Brett, 90 years old, of The&lt;br /&gt;Plain Dealer, Cleveland , Ohio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 44 lessons life taught me. It is the most-requested column I've ever written. My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.&lt;br /&gt;2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.&lt;br /&gt;3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.&lt;br /&gt;4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.&lt;br /&gt;5. Pay off your credit cards every month.&lt;br /&gt;6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.&lt;br /&gt;7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.&lt;br /&gt;8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.&lt;br /&gt;9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SnnBhmVvyPI/AAAAAAAAAUc/bc2e_9XctlA/s1600-h/old_man_sitting_in_a_recliner_chair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 313px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SnnBhmVvyPI/AAAAAAAAAUc/bc2e_9XctlA/s320/old_man_sitting_in_a_recliner_chair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366533213960259826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.&lt;br /&gt;11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.&lt;br /&gt;12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.&lt;br /&gt;13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.&lt;br /&gt;14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.&lt;br /&gt;15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.&lt;br /&gt;16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.&lt;br /&gt;17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.&lt;br /&gt;18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.&lt;br /&gt;19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.&lt;br /&gt;20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.&lt;br /&gt;21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.&lt;br /&gt;22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.&lt;br /&gt;24. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.&lt;br /&gt;25. Frame every so-called disaster with these words ''In five years, will this matter?".&lt;br /&gt;26. Always choose life.&lt;br /&gt;27. Forgive everyone everything.&lt;br /&gt;28. What other people think of you is none of your business.&lt;br /&gt;29. Time heals almost everything. Give time, time.&lt;br /&gt;30. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.&lt;br /&gt;31. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.&lt;br /&gt;32. Believe in miracles.&lt;br /&gt;33. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.&lt;br /&gt;34. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.&lt;br /&gt;35. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.&lt;br /&gt;36. Your children get only one childhood.&lt;br /&gt;37. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.&lt;br /&gt;38. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;39. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd&lt;br /&gt;grab ours back.&lt;br /&gt;40. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.&lt;br /&gt;41. The best is yet to come.&lt;br /&gt;42. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.&lt;br /&gt;43. Yield.&lt;br /&gt;44. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-7466369008442568500?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/7466369008442568500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/lifes-lessons.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/7466369008442568500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/7466369008442568500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/lifes-lessons.html' title='Life&apos;s Lessons'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SnnBhmVvyPI/AAAAAAAAAUc/bc2e_9XctlA/s72-c/old_man_sitting_in_a_recliner_chair.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-8186477505669257280</id><published>2009-08-03T18:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T15:10:54.811-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humor'/><title type='text'>My Prayer</title><content type='html'>.&lt;br /&gt;When I do things my way for pride or for show&lt;br /&gt;Deep down within me I know&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SnnlzqugUHI/AAAAAAAAAUs/YBvQHiIQ1eU/s1600-h/Girl+Prayer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 238px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SnnlzqugUHI/AAAAAAAAAUs/YBvQHiIQ1eU/s320/Girl+Prayer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366573106794090610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I hurt others with things, I say or do&lt;br /&gt;With remorse my voice calls out to you&lt;br /&gt;Lord, I'm asking what am I worth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man made from clay to return to the earth&lt;br /&gt;Through my shame, I hear you whisper&lt;br /&gt;You may walk through Hell&lt;br /&gt;But faith can still move mountains&lt;br /&gt;Amazing grace has never failed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I want to do right, I do wrong anyway&lt;br /&gt;Still Jesus, You love me always&lt;br /&gt;You hung alone on Calvary and now you hold my hand&lt;br /&gt;Alone I can't make it but with you,&lt;br /&gt;I can&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Author Unknown&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-8186477505669257280?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/8186477505669257280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-prayer.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8186477505669257280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8186477505669257280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-prayer.html' title='My Prayer'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SnnlzqugUHI/AAAAAAAAAUs/YBvQHiIQ1eU/s72-c/Girl+Prayer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-3045793544592094401</id><published>2009-07-31T10:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T17:42:46.946-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Chasing Demons</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SnYWUVyK3RI/AAAAAAAAAUM/9FztBAfffes/s1600-h/huge.25.126804.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SnYWUVyK3RI/AAAAAAAAAUM/9FztBAfffes/s320/huge.25.126804.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365500544759291154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this is a bit ''over the top' but its all I can think of right now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night as I was crawling into bed I felt the demon of depression attempt to insinuate itself into my mind.  Having spent the last several months relatively free from the scourge, I was acutely aware of its insidious attempts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I found I was still unable to fight it off.  It was just like old times….I felt completely powerless in the grip of this thing that had controlled my soul for so many years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing can describe the darkness of depression.  The blanket of black that covers you as you lay there trying to sleep.  Thoughts race through your mind.  Thoughts of ‘’could have…should have''.  Thoughts that won’t go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s where suicide is born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When the pain of living becomes greater than the ability to cope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I voluntarily step off into that abyss?  No…. I believe my faith will see me through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-3045793544592094401?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/3045793544592094401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/07/chasing-demons.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3045793544592094401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3045793544592094401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/07/chasing-demons.html' title='Chasing Demons'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SnYWUVyK3RI/AAAAAAAAAUM/9FztBAfffes/s72-c/huge.25.126804.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-631063584200419985</id><published>2009-04-29T14:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T13:34:35.658-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Remember'/><title type='text'>What do you see nurse?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SfisPQ2wi6I/AAAAAAAAAUE/_cqjO9qGPsE/s1600-h/youngwomanoldlady.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SfisPQ2wi6I/AAAAAAAAAUE/_cqjO9qGPsE/s320/youngwomanoldlady.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330199537215638434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you see an old woman or the girl within?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you see nurse?&lt;br /&gt;What do you see?&lt;br /&gt;What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?&lt;br /&gt;A crabby old woman, not very wise?&lt;br /&gt;Uncertain of habit-with faraway eyes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who dribbles her food and makes no reply,&lt;br /&gt;When you say in a loud voice, ‘’I do wish you’d try’’.&lt;br /&gt;Who seems not to notice the things that you do,&lt;br /&gt;And forever is losing a sock or a shoe.&lt;br /&gt;Who unresisting or not, lets you do as you will,&lt;br /&gt;With bathing and feeding the long day to fill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that what you’re thinking?  Is that what you see?&lt;br /&gt;Then open your eyes, nurse, you’re not seeing me.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still.&lt;br /&gt;As I rise at your bidding and eat at your will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m a child of ten, with a father and mother,&lt;br /&gt;Brothers and sisters who love one another.&lt;br /&gt;A young girl of sixteen with wings on my feet,&lt;br /&gt;Dreaming that soon now a lover I’ll meet.&lt;br /&gt;A bride soon at twenty, my heart skips a beat.&lt;br /&gt;Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At twenty five, building a secure, happy home.&lt;br /&gt;A woman of forty, my children now all grown.&lt;br /&gt;But my mate stays beside me, to see I don’t mourn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At fifty, once again, babies play at my knee,&lt;br /&gt;Again we know children, my loved one and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead.&lt;br /&gt;I look at the future, and shudder with dread.&lt;br /&gt;For my children are busy with young of their own.&lt;br /&gt;And I think of the years and the love I have known.&lt;br /&gt;I’m now an old lady and nature is cruel.&lt;br /&gt;It’s her joke to make age look like a fool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My body crumbles, grace and vigor depart.&lt;br /&gt;A stone is now where I once had a heart.&lt;br /&gt;But inside my old body a young girl still dwells,&lt;br /&gt;And now and again my broken heart still swells.&lt;br /&gt;I remember the joys, I remember the pain,&lt;br /&gt;And I’m loving and living all over again.&lt;br /&gt;I think of the years all too few-gone too fast.&lt;br /&gt;And accept the plain fact that nothing will last.&lt;br /&gt;So open your eyes nurse!  Open and see!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a crabby old lady-look closer&lt;br /&gt;See Me!&lt;br /&gt;Author Unknown&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-631063584200419985?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/631063584200419985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-do-you-see-nurse.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/631063584200419985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/631063584200419985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-do-you-see-nurse.html' title='What do you see nurse?'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SfisPQ2wi6I/AAAAAAAAAUE/_cqjO9qGPsE/s72-c/youngwomanoldlady.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-7144021986395168530</id><published>2009-04-19T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T18:49:53.361-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Saying Goodbye</title><content type='html'>In my last post I asked if I should write about myself or should I post educational material.  The general consensus was that I write what was on my heart.  So here goes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following is a portion of a monologue I wrote several years ago.  It takes place some ten years in the future.  If it seems a bit melodramatic and over the top keep in mind I was in a deep depression.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/Sd4ZCLsyGfI/AAAAAAAAATM/ezVF9xQOLDE/s1600-h/old+man+in+bed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 141px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/Sd4ZCLsyGfI/AAAAAAAAATM/ezVF9xQOLDE/s320/old+man+in+bed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322719334889560562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray no one takes umbrage with my words for they are my faith.  This, I believe is my future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His family is gathered round the bed: the room quiet save for the sound of labored breathing.  He reaches out a feeble hand only to have it immediately grasped by two strong masculine ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘’Is that you boy?’’ he asks in a quavering voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘’Yes Dad, its me.  I’m right here.  We’re all here. Even your new great-grandson is here to see you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘’Let me see the child.  I want to see him before its time.’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘’Now don’t be talking like that Dad.  You’ll be out of here in no time.’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks deep into the eyes of his beloved son and sees only a deep abiding love.&lt;br /&gt;‘’We both know how I’ll be leaving this room Jason.’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason begins to weep softly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘’Now, now. My pain will soon be over and look at that beautiful baby you’re going to help raise.  You have to be there for him.  You have to take my place.  Now hush up and let me see the boy.’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His granddaughter pushes her way up to the head of the bed.&lt;br /&gt;‘’Isn’t he the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen Papa?  We named him after you.  His name is Darrel Alan.’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amidst all his pain he manages a sigh of contentment. Life had not been easy but he had been able to pull it off and close his life out with peace and contentment.  Yes, and lots of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason brushes a strand of gray hair from his father’s forehead.&lt;br /&gt;‘’We’re all right here Dad.  We’re all here.  Dad?   Daddy?  Wake up Daddy.  Daddy please wake up.’’  Jason cries softly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gasps and opens his eyes.  There is no sense of feeling.  No up or down.  Nothing but darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘’Isn’t there supposed to be a bright light to follow or something?’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A soft voice whispers.  ‘’Wait.  Be patient and wait.’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He heeds the voice and waits quietly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Page 1 of 5&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-7144021986395168530?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/7144021986395168530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/saying-goodbye.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/7144021986395168530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/7144021986395168530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/saying-goodbye.html' title='Saying Goodbye'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/Sd4ZCLsyGfI/AAAAAAAAATM/ezVF9xQOLDE/s72-c/old+man+in+bed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-3164835938450332422</id><published>2009-04-18T18:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T14:28:47.718-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Little One</title><content type='html'>As he leaned him head against His shoulder, he felt a deep sense of peace flood through him entire being.  A peace that passed all understanding.  He was forgiven for all of his sins.  He sensed that thime many, many sins that he was not even aware of, people he had hurt without meaning to, things he not done that he should have done, sins so hidden that only the Man beside him knew.  They were all forgiven.  Peace, gratitude, humility, &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SoRe2Z0U20I/AAAAAAAAAVY/kbLVjEJPm0g/s1600-h/Planet+%26+Fire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SoRe2Z0U20I/AAAAAAAAAVY/kbLVjEJPm0g/s320/Planet+%26+Fire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369520944468777794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;but most of all joy.  He was home at last.&lt;br /&gt;Jesus led him to a smaller door off to the side of the great room.  Two angels respectfully opened the door as they approached.  Once inside the room, he was greeted with a wondrous sight a table perhaps two hundred feet long groaned with food of every kind and description.  Around the table was something he could scarce believe.  Acquaintances from church that had gone on before him and, Christian friends and family he had helped bury could it be?  Yes, there were his grandparents seated near the head of the table.  Strangely enough there was a gentleman seated beside them that he just knew was his father’s father, a man he had never seen before. A great assembly of his loved ones who had also put their trust in Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;On the other side of the table near the head was a beautiful young girl.  The girl was jumping up and down and waving at him.  He looked like………..”He looks just like he did when he and Mom got married.  He turned to Jesus.  He responded, “Yes that’s your mothim, lovely creature isn’t he.  He certainly seems happy to see you doesn’t he?”&lt;br /&gt;A muscular young man in the seat next to him mothim jumped up so quickly that he threw his chair over backwards.  He came running toward him.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, who can this be? He gasped&lt;br /&gt;“You’d better get ready for a big hug from your Mom”, said the tall man beside him.&lt;br /&gt;The young man reached him and tore him out of Jesus’ grasp and grabbed him in a bear hug then immediately tossed him in the air.&lt;br /&gt;“Just like I used to do when you were little; remember baby?”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m 96 years old. I can’t be roughhousing like this”, he said&lt;br /&gt;“What?  Look at yourself.  You look like you’re 30 years old and not a day older”&lt;br /&gt;A glance down at himself confirmed what him fathim had said.  Something had happened to him.  He no longer carried the weight of many years.  His was a body that sang with vibrancy.  The thrill of youth was in him blood.  His was a body that wanted to run, to dance, to sing.  The realization dawned upon him that this wonderful marvelous, energetic body was his to keep for eternity.  The joy of it all overwhelmed him mind.  Young again forever!&lt;br /&gt;Bringing himself back to the present, he turned to his father with a simple query.&lt;br /&gt;“Dad?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes son?”&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;4 of 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-3164835938450332422?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/3164835938450332422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3164835938450332422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3164835938450332422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-one.html' title='Little One'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SoRe2Z0U20I/AAAAAAAAAVY/kbLVjEJPm0g/s72-c/Planet+%26+Fire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-5711190130830204078</id><published>2009-04-18T12:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T18:51:20.440-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Where Am I?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SeOwjg1CEeI/AAAAAAAAATk/-WCGumUs1MY/s1600-h/white+angel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 194px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SeOwjg1CEeI/AAAAAAAAATk/-WCGumUs1MY/s320/white+angel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324293308636336610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within what seems to be only moments, a light appear in the distance and rapidly approaches.  He watches with a strange sense of calm.  the light soon takes on the form of men dressed all in white.  The being stops beside him and takes an arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘’Where are we going he asks with some apprehension/’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘’You’re going home and I’m here to guide you.''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two of them move thru what seems to be the entire universe in just moments.  Plants, suns, galaxies flash past them in a blur of movement.  The journey ends abruptly before a great golden door.  He notices that the door itself must be at least ten stories high.  To his relief he notes that the stands wide open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The being of light usurers he thru the door and into the room beyond.  At this point, he vanishes; leaving him all alone in a room that is so beautiful in can not be described.  Everything seemed to be either made of gold or encrusted with precious stones.   The mere pavement was made of gold that it actually appears to be transparent.  Diamonds of every cut and color seem to have been swept aside to allow for comfortable walking.  He picks up one diamond the size of his fist, admires it then tosses it back into the pile of others like it.&lt;br /&gt;‘‘This must truly be heaven’’, he thought to himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drawn farther into the room he begins to make out a presence in the distance. Compelled to move forward he continues to approach the being.  Then the realization struck him.  He was approaching the throne itself.  He was approaching God.  Fear begins to grip his heart.  The closer he drew to the presence of the Eternal God the more he realizes that a mistake had surely been made.  What of my sins?  Closer still and the sins of his life began to boil out of him like some loathsome disease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘’I’ve sinned!  I have sinned before God and man!  I am doomed to hell!  I’m doomed to hell!  I’m damned!’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SeOw5hOAggI/AAAAAAAAATs/xn5mqQdU2dQ/s1600-h/welcome-home-zoom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 218px; height: 285px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SeOw5hOAggI/AAAAAAAAATs/xn5mqQdU2dQ/s320/welcome-home-zoom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324293686698213890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More sins come to his mind; sins of commission and sins of omission. More sins begin; sins began to pile into his conscious mind.  Sins he had completely forgotten slapped him in the face; sins he thought no one else even knew came back to haunt him.  He fell to his knees and with his head in his head he began to sob  He wept bitter tears for all the things that could have/should have been done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘'I can not bear the weight and pain of all my sins!’’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the things that should have been began to flood his consciousnesses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Page 2 of 5&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;                                                       .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-5711190130830204078?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/5711190130830204078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/where-am-i.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/5711190130830204078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/5711190130830204078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/where-am-i.html' title='Where Am I?'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SeOwjg1CEeI/AAAAAAAAATk/-WCGumUs1MY/s72-c/white+angel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-2895591253974908923</id><published>2009-04-18T12:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T18:10:54.538-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Heaven?</title><content type='html'>Oh my God, is there no end to my wickedness?”&lt;br /&gt;From the deep recesses of the enormous room, a voice thundered.  “There is no end to your sins.”&lt;br /&gt;He looks and sees to the side of the room another great door opened.  This door is completely different from the first   This door uncovers a pit that is without end.  Deep and without end, it sinks into a bottomless abyss. A fire blazes and there is no quenching this fire. It rises from the pit and scorches him face with its heat.  It is, however, the cries that emanated from the pit that terrify him.  The screams come from the souls of those doomed to spend eternity in torment. Him own soul shrinks within him.&lt;br /&gt;He gazes down into the depths of the pit and then in one desperate motion, throws himself on him face and begins to crawl on him belly. He digs him fingernails into the golden floor in an effort to get as far from the pit as possible.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh dear God have mercy on me a sinner!  In the name of Jesus have mercy on my soul!  Have mercy. I have sinned against God and man.  I am sinful to the core.  I was born in sin, lived, and died in sin.  I ask, no I beg, for mercy.  Have mercy on me in the name of Jesus.  In the name of Jesus, forgive me!&lt;br /&gt;When at last he has exhausted all of him efforts, he lies on the golden floor sobbing wretchedly.  Nothing can save him from the terrifying abyss.  He is doomed by him own actions. Him own conscious betrays him.&lt;br /&gt;He feels the touch of a warm hand on him back.  At the touch, he screams and jerks away fearing it is an angel come to cast him in the pit.  “No, in Jesus name protect me from my own sin”, he cries.&lt;br /&gt;A gentle voice speaks to him.  “You needed to see that you were not worthy to enter my Father’s presence.  However, remember what you did when you were yet a small child?  You accepted Me as your personal Savior.  Remember, you asked me to come into your heart and to forgive you of all your sins?  All your sins mean just that. All.  There is no sin that I cannot forgive because I am Jesus The Christ; I am The Son God who died for all your sins&lt;br /&gt;He peers up from him prone position to look into the most beautiful face he has ever seen.  Jesus Christ The Son of the Living God.  He doesn’t know how he recognizes Him but he knows who this Man is.  He just knows.  Yes he had asked Him into him heart when he was just a child. He remembered it well, for his father had often reminded him that Jesus had forgiven him for past, present, and future sins.  He was forgiven.  He had prayed to God in His name all him life.  He had tried to live a good Christian life, but this was so much more than just trying.  This was forgiveness for all sin.&lt;br /&gt;With a voice that soothed the torment of him soul he said, “Come, little one. I have a special surprise for you.  He placed his hand under his and helps him to him feet. he hadn’t been “little one” in many years.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;page 3 of 5&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-2895591253974908923?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/2895591253974908923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/heaven.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2895591253974908923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2895591253974908923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/08/heaven.html' title='Heaven?'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-6340562138992041780</id><published>2009-04-09T18:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T18:52:25.835-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Banquet</title><content type='html'>Do you think I might be able to sit in on your banquet?  It looks so wonderful and I would so much love to talk to grandma and grandpa, I so much want to meet your father.  I want to love and hold my wonderful mother again.  I want to see my brother-in-law who was more than a friend how much I love him.  Please?  I promise I won’t be in the way and I’ll keep quiet.  I don’t need a chair; I’ll just walk around the table and talk to my precious family.  Please?  You won’t even know I’m here.&lt;br /&gt;He looked at him with the love he had forgotten and said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“Darrel, this banquet is in your honor, son!”&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5 of 5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-6340562138992041780?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/6340562138992041780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/banquet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/6340562138992041780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/6340562138992041780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/banquet.html' title='Banquet'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-6842278347043848001</id><published>2009-04-09T08:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T08:58:57.331-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>What To Do?</title><content type='html'>Gotta question for ya.  When I started this blog it was with the intention of educating both those &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdqKYW1X4GI/AAAAAAAAATA/vGWymXFW9nI/s1600-h/Man+REading+Book.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 303px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdqKYW1X4GI/AAAAAAAAATA/vGWymXFW9nI/s320/Man+REading+Book.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321718060742598754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;who suffer from depression and their loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many people out there that are just like me.  They are searching desperately for some solution to the mental anguish they go thru every single day of their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am by no means and expert on depression but I do know something about it and I planned to do a lot of research and present my findings in layman’s terms.  (I used to try to wade into ‘doctor’s speak’ and just wound up discouraged.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife, however, told me that no one is interested in reading something they can get on the internet &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdqJaqSHbAI/AAAAAAAAASw/lgVpHYJxUnY/s1600-h/Minister+at+pulpit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdqJaqSHbAI/AAAAAAAAASw/lgVpHYJxUnY/s320/Minister+at+pulpit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321717000811539458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and within five minutes have all the information they need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did sort of an unofficial survey to see what my readers’ would prefer.  One reader said (in a very nice way) that my blog looked like spam.  So I switched to writing about my own experiences and the response seemed very promising.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I feel like I’m stuck whining about my depression and hospital stays instead of helping others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a conundrum; whine or do something constructive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think?  How can I best help others?  That’s my ultimate goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whine about my problems or try to help others with theirs?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-6842278347043848001?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/6842278347043848001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-to-do.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/6842278347043848001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/6842278347043848001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-to-do.html' title='What To Do?'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdqKYW1X4GI/AAAAAAAAATA/vGWymXFW9nI/s72-c/Man+REading+Book.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-8528970934370138555</id><published>2009-04-09T08:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T08:56:34.350-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>In Cold Blood</title><content type='html'>They froze my blood by mi&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdGAo9ISI7I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/AG7hAXFd7FM/s1600-h/blood+donor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 141px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdGAo9ISI7I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/AG7hAXFd7FM/s320/blood+donor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319174075993695154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;stake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My doctor’s office called this morning to tell me I needed to come back in and give more blood.  I thought nothing of it and just took two hours out of my day to go and give more blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the heck! If your doctor says he needs or wants something you just assume he has a very good reason for asking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the lab technician that let the cat out of the bag.  When she was prepping my arm to draw my blood she apologized for putting half my last sample in the freezer instead of the refrigerator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did say, however, that they were able to get my Lithium and vitamin D levels.&lt;br /&gt;“You’re not even taking Lithium at all are you?  Your levels are so low they barely register.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdF_vQL1m5I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/bn6glsLCn_4/s1600-h/in+cold+blood+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 160px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdF_vQL1m5I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/bn6glsLCn_4/s320/in+cold+blood+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319173084676463506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No.  I’ve been waiting for my blood tests to be sent to my psych,” I said thru clenched teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m sorry.  It will only be a few more days,” she returned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I sit.  The hospital won’t send my records and my doctor freezes my blood, while I get crazier by the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s all I have to say for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-8528970934370138555?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/8528970934370138555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-cold-blood.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8528970934370138555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8528970934370138555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-cold-blood.html' title='In Cold Blood'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdGAo9ISI7I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/AG7hAXFd7FM/s72-c/blood+donor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-1829880914292775876</id><published>2009-04-06T17:46:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.223-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>What to do?</title><content type='html'>Gotta question for ya.  When I started this blog it was with the intention of educating both those &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdqKYW1X4GI/AAAAAAAAATA/vGWymXFW9nI/s1600-h/Man+REading+Book.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 303px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdqKYW1X4GI/AAAAAAAAATA/vGWymXFW9nI/s320/Man+REading+Book.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321718060742598754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;who suffer from depression and their loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many people out there that are just like me.  They are searching desperately for some solution to the mental anguish they go thru every single day of their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am by no means and expert on depression but I do know something about it and I planned to do a lot of research and present my findings in layman’s terms.  (I used to try to wade into ‘doctor’s speak’ and just wound up discouraged.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife, however, told me that no one is interested in reading something they can get on the internet &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdqJaqSHbAI/AAAAAAAAASw/lgVpHYJxUnY/s1600-h/Minister+at+pulpit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdqJaqSHbAI/AAAAAAAAASw/lgVpHYJxUnY/s320/Minister+at+pulpit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321717000811539458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and within five minutes have all the information they need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did sort of an unofficial survey to see what my readers’ would prefer.  One reader said (in a very nice way) that my blog looked like spam.  So I switched to writing about my own experiences and the response seemed very promising.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I feel like I’m stuck whining about my depression and hospital stays instead of helping others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a conundrum; whine or do something constructive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think?  How can I best help others?  That’s my ultimate goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whine about my problems or try to help others with theirs?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-1829880914292775876?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/1829880914292775876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-to-do_8528.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1829880914292775876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1829880914292775876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-to-do_8528.html' title='What to do?'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdqKYW1X4GI/AAAAAAAAATA/vGWymXFW9nI/s72-c/Man+REading+Book.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-8829534684965529707</id><published>2009-03-30T21:27:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.308-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>In Cold Blood</title><content type='html'>They froze my blood by mi&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdGAo9ISI7I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/AG7hAXFd7FM/s1600-h/blood+donor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 141px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdGAo9ISI7I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/AG7hAXFd7FM/s320/blood+donor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319174075993695154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;stake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My doctor’s office called this morning to tell me I needed to come back in and give more blood.  I thought nothing of it and just took two hours out of my day to go and give more blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the heck! If your doctor says he needs or wants something you just assume he has a very good reason for asking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the lab technician that let the cat out of the bag.  When she was prepping my arm to draw my blood she apologized for putting half my last sample in the freezer instead of the refrigerator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did say, however, that they were able to get my Lithium and vitamin D levels.&lt;br /&gt;“You’re not even taking Lithium at all are you?  Your levels are so low they barely register.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdF_vQL1m5I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/bn6glsLCn_4/s1600-h/in+cold+blood+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 232px; height: 160px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdF_vQL1m5I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/bn6glsLCn_4/s320/in+cold+blood+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319173084676463506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No.  I’ve been waiting for my blood tests to be sent to my psych,” I said thru clenched teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m sorry.  It will only be a few more days,” she returned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I sit.  The hospital won’t send my records and my doctor freezes my blood, while I get crazier by the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s all I have to say for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-8829534684965529707?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/8829534684965529707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/03/in-cold-blood_6931.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8829534684965529707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8829534684965529707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/03/in-cold-blood_6931.html' title='In Cold Blood'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SdGAo9ISI7I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/AG7hAXFd7FM/s72-c/blood+donor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-661532421531592111</id><published>2009-03-13T19:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T19:57:22.320-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hospital'/><title type='text'>Too Much of a Good Thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbrOtz0h7fI/AAAAAAAAAOc/FxFu_039_50/s1600-h/elderly-man-in-hospital-bed-thumb5919841.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbrOtz0h7fI/AAAAAAAAAOc/FxFu_039_50/s320/elderly-man-in-hospital-bed-thumb5919841.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312785996836892146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I depend on Lithium to control my depression, but since the hospital episode I'm afraid to take it.  (See previous post)&lt;br /&gt;I can't sink back into the hell of depression.  I can't.  I won't.&lt;br /&gt;This is what I found out about overdosing on Lithium.  I was experiencing most of the symptoms.  Why didn't my psych spot them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Symptoms:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Abnormal heart rhythms&lt;br /&gt;* Breathing difficulties            (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Coma                                       (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Concentration difficulties    (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Confusion                               (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Convulsions&lt;br /&gt;* Drowsiness                             (x)   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbrQCvFzq5I/AAAAAAAAAOk/kh8Fdo9khwA/s1600-h/Cross.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbrQCvFzq5I/AAAAAAAAAOk/kh8Fdo9khwA/s320/Cross.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312787455856061330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Diarrhea                                  (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Increased thirst                      (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Increased urine output&lt;br /&gt;* Low blood pressure                (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Loss of appetite&lt;br /&gt;* Muscle twitching                     (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Rash&lt;br /&gt;* Seizures&lt;br /&gt;* Sluggishness                             (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Slurred speech                          (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Stupor (lack of alertness)       (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Tremors                                     (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Vomiting&lt;br /&gt;* Weakness                                  (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Uncoordinated movement     (x)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-661532421531592111?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/661532421531592111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/03/too-much-of-good-thing.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/661532421531592111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/661532421531592111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/03/too-much-of-good-thing.html' title='Too Much of a Good Thing'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbrOtz0h7fI/AAAAAAAAAOc/FxFu_039_50/s72-c/elderly-man-in-hospital-bed-thumb5919841.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-1954241573887344622</id><published>2009-03-13T15:46:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much of a Good Thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbrOtz0h7fI/AAAAAAAAAOc/FxFu_039_50/s1600-h/elderly-man-in-hospital-bed-thumb5919841.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbrOtz0h7fI/AAAAAAAAAOc/FxFu_039_50/s320/elderly-man-in-hospital-bed-thumb5919841.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312785996836892146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I depend on Lithium to control my depression, but since the hospital episode I'm afraid to take it.  (See previous post)&lt;br /&gt;I can't sink back into the hell of depression.  I can't.  I won't.&lt;br /&gt;This is what I found out about overdosing on Lithium.  I was experiencing most of the symptoms.  Why didn't my psych spot them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Symptoms:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Abnormal heart rhythms&lt;br /&gt;* Breathing difficulties            (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Coma                                       (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Concentration difficulties    (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Confusion                               (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Convulsions&lt;br /&gt;* Drowsiness                             (x)   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbrQCvFzq5I/AAAAAAAAAOk/kh8Fdo9khwA/s1600-h/Cross.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbrQCvFzq5I/AAAAAAAAAOk/kh8Fdo9khwA/s320/Cross.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312787455856061330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Diarrhea                                  (x) &lt;br /&gt;* Increased thirst                      (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Increased urine output&lt;br /&gt;* Low blood pressure                (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Loss of appetite&lt;br /&gt;* Muscle twitching                     (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Rash&lt;br /&gt;* Seizures&lt;br /&gt;* Sluggishness                             (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Slurred speech                          (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Stupor (lack of alertness)       (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Tremors                                     (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Vomiting&lt;br /&gt;* Weakness                                  (x)&lt;br /&gt;* Uncoordinated movement     (x)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-1954241573887344622?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/1954241573887344622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/03/too-much-of-good-thing_9917.html#comment-form' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1954241573887344622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1954241573887344622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/03/too-much-of-good-thing_9917.html' title='Too Much of a Good Thing'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbrOtz0h7fI/AAAAAAAAAOc/FxFu_039_50/s72-c/elderly-man-in-hospital-bed-thumb5919841.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-251029986038128211</id><published>2009-03-11T14:46:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.327-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hospital'/><title type='text'>Remembering?</title><content type='html'>A flurry of doctors and nurses hovered above my bed.&lt;br /&gt;“Check this, check that.  How’s he responding?”&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbgkuhiYbDI/AAAAAAAAAOU/mtp4P-sGvYY/s1600-h/Man+in+Bed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbgkuhiYbDI/AAAAAAAAAOU/mtp4P-sGvYY/s320/Man+in+Bed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312036142178659378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, “He’s coming out of it.  He’ll be alright; you can move him to ICU now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this was a blur that I vaguely remember.&lt;br /&gt;My first clear recollection was that of a psychiatric nurse standing at the foot of my bed asking me if I tried to commit suicide by overdosing on Lithium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really can’t remember.  I don’t want to commit suicide.  Since my depression is under control, I have too much to live for.  I would never do something like that; would I?&lt;br /&gt;I  agonized; wondering if I did the unthinkable.  Would I?  Could I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what did cause my black out?  I remember nothing after I went to bed Tuesday night.  Sherry tells me I insisted that she go on to the bookstore without me the next morning.  She tells me that she later called our daughter to go check on me.  Our daughter and her husband let themselves in and went back to the master bedroom only to find me curled up in a fetal position at the head of the bed.  Kimlin says that I insisted that Shaun dress me while she left the room.  I don’t remember any of this; just waking up in ICU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But I’ve been taking Lithiu&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbgVw0fWtVI/AAAAAAAAAOM/t30qgZ1k3zs/s1600-h/Empty+Bed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 249px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbgVw0fWtVI/AAAAAAAAAOM/t30qgZ1k3zs/s320/Empty+Bed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312019688951559506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;m for years and all it’s done is stabilize my mood.  How can it knock me out after all these years?”&lt;br /&gt;She mumbled something about kidneys processing and went on to grill me about wanting to die.&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t want to die; I wanted to find out how Lithium could knock me out.  I never did get a straight answer. Instead I got a nurse who asked me if I could write my name, write a check, write down my address, make change for a one dollar bar of soap, catch a cross-town bus; (I flunked this one because I haven’t ridden a city bus in 40 years).  So she asked me if I could find my house from the hospital.  I asked her about the Lithium but she didn’t know.  I left the hospital two days later with my question still unanswered.&lt;br /&gt;I continue to wonder.&lt;br /&gt;What if it happens again and I don't wake up?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-251029986038128211?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/251029986038128211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/03/remembering_7375.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/251029986038128211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/251029986038128211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/03/remembering_7375.html' title='Remembering?'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbgkuhiYbDI/AAAAAAAAAOU/mtp4P-sGvYY/s72-c/Man+in+Bed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-1541663192523985562</id><published>2009-02-13T14:54:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.285-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Alone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SZXjl45_4vI/AAAAAAAAANQ/g0300Z76ZJg/s1600-h/Chess+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 170px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SZXjl45_4vI/AAAAAAAAANQ/g0300Z76ZJg/s320/Chess+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302394376368939762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know who Cathe St Jean is but she knows my heart.  The words she has penned speak directly to the way I feel so much of the time&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps you too have been ALONE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alone - alone in a crowd&lt;br /&gt;The fears that I will never say aloud&lt;br /&gt;The hidden tears no one will ever see&lt;br /&gt;Alone in a crowd . . Just me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People going here and there&lt;br /&gt;Sometime they smile, sometimes they glare&lt;br /&gt;Some run fast and some so slow&lt;br /&gt;In life's constant ebb and flow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alone - alone in a crowd&lt;br /&gt;The fears that I will never say aloud&lt;br /&gt;The hidden tears no one will ever see&lt;br /&gt;Alone in a crowd . . Just me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say hello, how do you do?&lt;br /&gt;What can I do to help you?&lt;br /&gt;With a face that isn't real&lt;br /&gt;Just to try and seal the deal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alone - alone in a crowd&lt;br /&gt;The fears that I will never say aloud&lt;br /&gt;The hidden tears no one will ever see&lt;br /&gt;Alone in a crowd . . Just me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's party time. Let's sing and dance&lt;br /&gt;Raise the glasses and give the glance&lt;br /&gt;Tell some stories, hear some lies&lt;br /&gt;Meet the jokers in disguise&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SZd1W4jWC1I/AAAAAAAAANs/AJTxsnusdOY/s1600-h/pawns.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SZd1W4jWC1I/AAAAAAAAANs/AJTxsnusdOY/s320/pawns.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302836122250251090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alone - alone in a crowd&lt;br /&gt;The fears that I will never say aloud&lt;br /&gt;The hidden tears no one will ever see&lt;br /&gt;Alone in a crowd . . Just me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;written - Cathe St Jean 20005&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-1541663192523985562?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/1541663192523985562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/02/alone_3578.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1541663192523985562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1541663192523985562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/02/alone_3578.html' title='Alone'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SZXjl45_4vI/AAAAAAAAANQ/g0300Z76ZJg/s72-c/Chess+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-6522307744580093232</id><published>2009-02-09T19:26:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.508-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>My Mask</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SZDkpO-o58I/AAAAAAAAAMA/2C_Nl82p-jE/s1600-h/depression.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SZDkpO-o58I/AAAAAAAAAMA/2C_Nl82p-jE/s320/depression.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300988158461667266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I open my eyes and fix them on the ceiling. A heavy weight presses down on my chest.  Another day…….  God, why did you allow me to live another day?  The heaviness continues to press as I contemplate the day ahead of me.   My soul cries silent tears,  Not again, oh please God why another day?  Why couldn’t you let me slip away into the great dark night?&lt;br /&gt;I roll out of bed and head for the bathroom to perform my morning ablutions&lt;br /&gt;I lean again the sink and stare into the brown eyes that used to be so alive with dreams and plans.&lt;br /&gt;Aren’t the eyes the mirrors of the soul?  These eyes are dead and vacant.  There are no plans and dreams shining from them  There is nothing but emptiness.&lt;br /&gt;My feet dragging, I being to prepare for another day of deep dark misery&lt;br /&gt;In the car, on the way to work I carefully begin to construct my mask.  I must have my mask of cheer lest any find that I suffer from something no one understands.  How many times have I heard&lt;br /&gt;1.    "Pull yourself up by your bootstraps"&lt;br /&gt;2.    "Stop feeling sorry for yourself"&lt;br /&gt;3.    "There are a lot of people&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SZDk2gmf0RI/AAAAAAAAAMI/oEluP-HL9-Q/s1600-h/misery.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SZDk2gmf0RI/AAAAAAAAAMI/oEluP-HL9-Q/s320/misery.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300988386530545938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; worse off than you"&lt;br /&gt;4.    "Happiness is a choice" (two prominent physicians)&lt;br /&gt;5.    "Have you been praying/reading the Bible?"&lt;br /&gt;6.    "This is a place of business, not a hospital" (after confiding to my supervisor about my depression)&lt;br /&gt;7.    "Depression is a symptom of your sin against God"&lt;br /&gt;8.    "Believe me, I know how you feel. I was depressed once for several days"&lt;br /&gt;9.    "Quit whining. Go out and help someone else and you won't have time to brood"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile and act as though the advice that I am given is actually worthwhile.  I know they mean well, but it’s like telling a polio victim they will walk again if they’ll just think a little more positively.  Saying something like that would be an insult and the speaker would be shamed by others for making such remarks.  My favorite is, “Believe me, I know how you feel.  I was depressed for once for SEVERAL days”.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SZDlKPp-eCI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/yULK9BvxTr4/s1600-h/suffering.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SZDlKPp-eCI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/yULK9BvxTr4/s320/suffering.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300988725579118626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wear the mask all day and find my energy sapped by the end of the day.  It’s all I can do to get home and crash.  What does this do to my family? &lt;br /&gt;I’m a failure……………a failure…….nothing but the shell of a man.&lt;br /&gt;I keep my mask close by lest I need it…….but what I really need is sleep so I can recharge for tomorrow………another hopeless day.&lt;br /&gt;Hoping against hope that the night will close in on me and stop this pain……………..please stop the pain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-6522307744580093232?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/6522307744580093232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-mask_6110.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/6522307744580093232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/6522307744580093232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-mask_6110.html' title='My Mask'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SZDkpO-o58I/AAAAAAAAAMA/2C_Nl82p-jE/s72-c/depression.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-7866955469809292188</id><published>2009-02-06T14:03:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.175-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humor'/><title type='text'>The Man Rules</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYyhMztUp-I/AAAAAAAAALw/WyCndCw8ejs/s1600-h/Dog+house.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 245px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYyhMztUp-I/AAAAAAAAALw/WyCndCw8ejs/s320/Dog+house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299788102919038946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last a guy has taken the time to write this all down Finally , the guys' side of the story. We always hear " the rules " From the female side. Now here are the rules from the male side. These are our rules! Please note.. these are all numbered "1 " ON PURPOSE! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Men are NOT mind readers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Learn to work the toilet seat. You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don't hear us complaining about you leaving it down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sunday sports It's like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1. Shopping is NOT a sport. And no, we are never going to think of it that way.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1. Crying is blackmail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one: Subtle hints do not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become Null and void after 7 Days.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1. If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You can either ask us to do something Or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1. Whenever possible, Please say WHATEVER you have to say during commercials.. 1. Christopher Columbus did NOT need directions and neither do we.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not A color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If it itches, it will be scratched. We do that. 1. If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing," We will act like nothing's wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, Expect an answer you don't want to hear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine... Really.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1. Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared t o discuss such topics as BASEBALL, Football or golf. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You have enough clothes. 1. You have too many shoes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I am in shape. Round IS a shape! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Thank you for reading this.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know , I have to sleep on the couch tonight; But did you know men really don't mind that? &lt;br /&gt;It's like camping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-7866955469809292188?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/7866955469809292188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/02/man-rules_1166.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/7866955469809292188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/7866955469809292188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/02/man-rules_1166.html' title='The Man Rules'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYyhMztUp-I/AAAAAAAAALw/WyCndCw8ejs/s72-c/Dog+house.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-8011120913353071213</id><published>2009-02-03T15:29:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.267-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Angels Unawares</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYi6Yb7isQI/AAAAAAAAALI/VzHLvsGfAT4/s1600-h/Airplane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYi6Yb7isQI/AAAAAAAAALI/VzHLvsGfAT4/s320/Airplane.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298689890578510082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone Psalms 91:12&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-8011120913353071213?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/8011120913353071213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/02/angels-unawares_1261.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8011120913353071213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8011120913353071213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/02/angels-unawares_1261.html' title='Angels Unawares'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYi6Yb7isQI/AAAAAAAAALI/VzHLvsGfAT4/s72-c/Airplane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-2466968819510509489</id><published>2009-01-31T16:17:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.196-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humor'/><title type='text'>You know you're living in 2009 when...</title><content type='html'>1. You accidentally enter your password in the microwave.&lt;br /&gt;2. You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.&lt;br /&gt;3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of 3.&lt;br /&gt;4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.&lt;br /&gt;5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that they don't have e-mail addresses.&lt;br /&gt;6. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home to help you carry in the groceries.&lt;br /&gt;7. Every commercial on television has a web site at the bottom of the screen.&lt;br /&gt;8. Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't have in the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYThkHCSHTI/AAAAAAAAAKI/UzWoFK29O1o/s1600-h/pimped-out-high-tech-john-s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 255px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYThkHCSHTI/AAAAAAAAAKI/UzWoFK29O1o/s320/pimped-out-high-tech-john-s.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297607072174710066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;cause for panic and you turn around to go get it.&lt;br /&gt;10. You get up in the morning and go on line before getting your coffee.&lt;br /&gt;11. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. : )&lt;br /&gt;12. You' re reading this and nodding and laughing.&lt;br /&gt;13. Even worse, you know exactly to whom you are going to forward this message.&lt;br /&gt;14. You are too busy to notice there was no #9 on this list.&lt;br /&gt;15. You actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn't a #9 on this list.&lt;br /&gt;16. If you're picking you a friend and you phone from the driveway rather than honk; or (God forbid) go knock on the door.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-2466968819510509489?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/2466968819510509489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/you-know-you-living-in-2009-when_6945.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2466968819510509489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2466968819510509489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/you-know-you-living-in-2009-when_6945.html' title='You know you&amp;#39;re living in 2009 when...'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYThkHCSHTI/AAAAAAAAAKI/UzWoFK29O1o/s72-c/pimped-out-high-tech-john-s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-2239984939863567177</id><published>2009-01-29T21:45:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.558-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Invisible Desease'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Invisible.Desease</title><content type='html'>As a young girl of 10, Marilyn Shuler developed polio; a virus which has been virtually eliminated in the United States.  However, in the 1940s and '50s, when Marilyn was a girl; polio was an epidemic, affecting thousands of children every summer. Polio was the AIDS of its day, with fear and misunderstanding about contagion. Not only was the disease physically crippling and potentially fatal, but it also carried a tremendous social stigma; mostly because it was associated with poverty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYJ5Sqn1ziI/AAAAAAAAAIY/mlr9zA7E07k/s1600-h/Pointers.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 313px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYJ5Sqn1ziI/AAAAAAAAAIY/mlr9zA7E07k/s320/Pointers.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296929473327124002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stigma was compounded by the forced quarantining of the entire family for three weeks once polio was diagnosed in any member of the household.&lt;br /&gt;The social isolation gave Marilyn empathy with others who; because of the color of their skin, their religion, or other disabilities; were also seen in an unfair way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I couldn't go to school because of the stairs; I couldn't climb them.”  The lowest point, she says, was when she fell in a class and the teacher refused to help her up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If I'm on a scooter, having a hard time, people are courteous because it's very obvious I need help. But I wonder what it would be like if I had a mental disability? I could have walked in, feeling like committing suicide, and no one would know because it's so hidden. It isn't as easy to be of assistance."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many of us suffer from an ‘invisible disability’.  The people around us would be happy to help us but they can’t see the thoughts of suicide that run constantly thru our minds.  Those that have been told that such things are happening to others just can’t believe people could think those kind thoughts. Many of us suffer from the ‘polio’ of our day.  It is our duty to educate both ourselves and those around us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://australianscreen.com.au/titles/homes-for-crippled-children/clip3/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://microbiology.columbia.edu/PICO/Chapters/History.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-2239984939863567177?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/2239984939863567177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/invisibledesease_4476.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2239984939863567177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2239984939863567177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/invisibledesease_4476.html' title='Invisible.Desease'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYJ5Sqn1ziI/AAAAAAAAAIY/mlr9zA7E07k/s72-c/Pointers.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-1247902262582073192</id><published>2009-01-24T14:11:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.387-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>My Life - My Joy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbLTz0y9uvI/AAAAAAAAAN0/lVE_sO1gDGI/s1600-h/Sherry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 221px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbLTz0y9uvI/AAAAAAAAAN0/lVE_sO1gDGI/s320/Sherry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310539797922429682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I married a sweet, innocent girl 39 years ago and she married depression.  She has stood by me these many, many years.  She’s been my comfort and the rock I've clung to for almost as long as I can remember.  I would gladly lay down my life for her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has never read my blog so she will never see this.  I have a few friends out there and I want them to know how I feel about my life partner.   She’s the reason I want to live.   I love her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'LL GO TO MY GRAVE LOVING YOU&lt;br /&gt;(written by Don Reid)&lt;br /&gt;The Statler Brothers - 1975&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll go to my grave&lt;br /&gt;Loving you&lt;br /&gt;I'd give all I've saved&lt;br /&gt;Loving you&lt;br /&gt;And when I live again&lt;br /&gt;Even then, it won't end&lt;br /&gt;For I'll go to my grave&lt;br /&gt;Loving you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh to stay this way forever&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing I wouldn't give&lt;br /&gt;I'll prove to you daily what a man really is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll lay down my life&lt;br /&gt;Loving you&lt;br /&gt;I'd work day &amp;amp; night&lt;br /&gt;Loving you&lt;br /&gt;And when God calls us both above&lt;br /&gt;Honey you'll know that you've been loved&lt;br /&gt;For I'll go to my grave&lt;br /&gt;Loving you&lt;br /&gt;I love you Sherry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-1247902262582073192?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/1247902262582073192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-life-my-joy_906.html#comment-form' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1247902262582073192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1247902262582073192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-life-my-joy_906.html' title='My Life - My Joy'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SbLTz0y9uvI/AAAAAAAAAN0/lVE_sO1gDGI/s72-c/Sherry.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-2388746962464770287</id><published>2009-01-21T22:07:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.622-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medications'/><title type='text'>The Healing Pulse</title><content type='html'>Vagus Nerve Stimulation (VNS) is a treatment for certain types of major depression. VNS uses an implanted stimulator that sends electric impulses to the left vagus nerve in the neck thru a lead wire implanted under the skin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VNS Therapy has been shown to significantly enhance the quality of life. Benefits include increased energy, improved relationships with friends and family members, and better ability to function at work and in daily activities.  VNS Therapy has been shown to succeed when other antidepressant treatments have not worked or have stopped working. The effectiveness of VNS Therapy improves over time and lasts long term.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXgFfYW5uaI/AAAAAAAAAF8/aqXnxGt5PNc/s1600-h/vns+device_man.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXgFfYW5uaI/AAAAAAAAAF8/aqXnxGt5PNc/s320/vns+device_man.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293987398646610338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VNS Therapy is delivered by a small device that is implanted in the left chest, just under the skin much like a pacemaker. From there, electrical leads are connected through a second incision to the left vagus nerve in the neck. This whole procedure takes about an hour. It's typically done as an outpatient basis.&lt;br /&gt;VNS delivers a small amount of electrical current to the left vagus nerve. The electrical impulses are thought to desynchronize the abnormal electrical brain activity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.mcchildrenshospital.net/programs-and-specialties/neurosciences/epilepsy-center/vagus-nerve-stimulation&lt;br /&gt;http://www.novelguide.com/a/discover/gesu_03/gesu_03_00474.html&lt;br /&gt;http://www.articlealley.com/article_165537_17.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-2388746962464770287?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/2388746962464770287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/healing-pulse_8337.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2388746962464770287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2388746962464770287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/healing-pulse_8337.html' title='The Healing Pulse'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXgFfYW5uaI/AAAAAAAAAF8/aqXnxGt5PNc/s72-c/vns+device_man.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-1150398804907693481</id><published>2009-01-17T20:51:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.642-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>The Very Idea</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXKb_JQIN8I/AAAAAAAAAFA/TOIcLdiCrb8/s1600-h/depressed+man.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 197px; height: 252px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXKb_JQIN8I/AAAAAAAAAFA/TOIcLdiCrb8/s320/depressed+man.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292464021231384514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to write about suicidal ideation but my wife said what I wrote was too morbid.  She also said it might give others an excuse too do something that can not be undone.  I'd appreciate some feedback.  Should I or would I do damage to others?  If there's a chance I might hurt someone, I won't do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-1150398804907693481?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/1150398804907693481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/very-idea_1863.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1150398804907693481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1150398804907693481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/very-idea_1863.html' title='The Very Idea'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXKb_JQIN8I/AAAAAAAAAFA/TOIcLdiCrb8/s72-c/depressed+man.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-3403689293021944963</id><published>2009-01-16T13:24:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.347-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Remember'/><title type='text'>The Lighter Side</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXIliqaUneI/AAAAAAAAAEo/wioHQ8n8LIA/s1600-h/sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 202px; height: 249px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXIliqaUneI/AAAAAAAAAEo/wioHQ8n8LIA/s320/sign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292333789544226274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to lighten the mood a bit.  I've been getting depressed writing this blog. I saw something like this on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nether Region of Earth ll&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been keeping a list of my own for some time now. If you're my age...60 going on 16 you may find some humor in this list.  I hope so.  Have fun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Remember:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. "Only The Shadow Knows"&lt;br /&gt;2. 15 Cent McDonald Hamburgers&lt;br /&gt;3. 25 Cent A Gallon Gasoline&lt;br /&gt;4. 45 Rpm Records&lt;br /&gt;5. 5 Cent Packs Of Baseball Cards - With A Pink Slab Of Bubble Gum&lt;br /&gt;6. 78 Rpm Records!&lt;br /&gt;7. A Seam In Women’s Hose&lt;br /&gt;8. Alaska And Hawaii Becoming States&lt;br /&gt;9. American Bandstand&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SY-vXqsUtqI/AAAAAAAAAL4/FiXoPAkBOX4/s1600-h/Wriger+in+use.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SY-vXqsUtqI/AAAAAAAAAL4/FiXoPAkBOX4/s320/Wriger+in+use.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300648107570411170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Armstrong Stepping Onto The Moon&lt;br /&gt;11. Baseball Cards In The Spokes Of A Bicycle&lt;br /&gt;12. Blackjack, Clove, Tutti-Frutti And Teaberry Chewing Gum&lt;br /&gt;13. Pop Bottle Openers&lt;br /&gt;14. Burning Our Trash In The Back Yard&lt;br /&gt;15. Candy Cigarettes&lt;br /&gt;16. Charles Atlas Course,&lt;br /&gt;17. Cigar Bands For Rings&lt;br /&gt;18. Clotheslines&lt;br /&gt;19. Coffee Shops With Tableside Jukeboxes&lt;br /&gt;20. Cooties&lt;br /&gt;21. Cork Pop Guns&lt;br /&gt;22. Duck-Tail Hair&lt;br /&gt;23. Erector Sets&lt;br /&gt;24. Flat Tops,&lt;br /&gt;25. Fly Paper,&lt;br /&gt;26. Going Steady&lt;br /&gt;27. Green Stamps&lt;br /&gt;28. Having A Weapon In School Meant Being Caught With A Slingshot&lt;br /&gt;29. Hi-Fi's&lt;br /&gt;30. Hula Hoops first came out&lt;br /&gt;31. Home Milk Delivery In Glass Bottles With Cardboard Stoppers&lt;br /&gt;32. Home-Made Ice Cream&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYLt-C5xXlI/AAAAAAAAAIw/UcMCy_u9vXM/s1600-h/Howdy+Doody.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 310px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYLt-C5xXlI/AAAAAAAAAIw/UcMCy_u9vXM/s320/Howdy+Doody.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297057761927978578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Howdy Doody,&lt;br /&gt;34. Hula Hoops&lt;br /&gt;35. Indian Burn&lt;br /&gt;36. James Dean&lt;br /&gt;37. Lincoln Logs&lt;br /&gt;38. Lost In Space&lt;br /&gt;39. Loud Mufflers&lt;br /&gt;40. Metal Ice Cube Trays With Levers&lt;br /&gt;41. Moon Hubcaps&lt;br /&gt;42. My Three Sons&lt;br /&gt;43. Newsreels Before The Movie&lt;br /&gt;44. Oly-Oly-Axen-Free Free Free&lt;br /&gt;45. One Bathroom Homes&lt;br /&gt;46. Our First TV Set&lt;br /&gt;47. P F Fliers&lt;br /&gt;48. Party Lines&lt;br /&gt;49. Pedal Pushers&lt;br /&gt;50. Penny Candy&lt;br /&gt;51. Penny Loafers&lt;br /&gt;52. Window Air Conditioners&lt;br /&gt;53. Petticoats&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYKEbgUwS_I/AAAAAAAAAIg/xXvla7ClBwc/s1600-h/Old+Coke+Bottle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 370px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYKEbgUwS_I/AAAAAAAAAIg/xXvla7ClBwc/s320/Old+Coke+Bottle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296941719809444850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54. Rin Tin Tin&lt;br /&gt;55. Roller-Skate Keys&lt;br /&gt;56. Rotary Dial Telephones&lt;br /&gt;57. Roy Rogers&lt;br /&gt;58. Sadie Hawkin’s Dance&lt;br /&gt;59. Sock Hops,&lt;br /&gt;60. Soda Pop Machines That Dispensed Glass Bottles&lt;br /&gt;61. Stick Shifts&lt;br /&gt;62. Studebakers&lt;br /&gt;63. Swamp Coolers&lt;br /&gt;64. 'Swats' In School&lt;br /&gt;65. Steel Taps On Your Shoes&lt;br /&gt;66. Telephone Numbers With A Word Prefix...(Raymond 4-6011).&lt;br /&gt;67. The Hit Parade&lt;br /&gt;68. The Kennedy Assassination&lt;br /&gt;69. The Nelsons&lt;br /&gt;70. The Outhouse At Grandma’s&lt;br /&gt;71. The Worst Embarrassment Was Being Picked Last For A Team&lt;br /&gt;72. Walking To School In The Rain&lt;br /&gt;73. Washtub Wringers&lt;br /&gt;74. Wax Coke-Shaped Bottles With Colored Sugar Water Inside&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-3403689293021944963?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/3403689293021944963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/lighter-side_7767.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3403689293021944963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3403689293021944963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/lighter-side_7767.html' title='The Lighter Side'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXIliqaUneI/AAAAAAAAAEo/wioHQ8n8LIA/s72-c/sign.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-8567878058974923118</id><published>2009-01-15T17:36:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.712-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>Visual Depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SW_KHVenvkI/AAAAAAAAAEA/RDw9VVIGQDY/s1600-h/depression_22319.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 307px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SW_KHVenvkI/AAAAAAAAAEA/RDw9VVIGQDY/s320/depression_22319.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291670314557095490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found this while surfing the web.  I can't read the author's name but I find his/her work moving.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-8567878058974923118?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/8567878058974923118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/visual-depression_204.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8567878058974923118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8567878058974923118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/visual-depression_204.html' title='Visual Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SW_KHVenvkI/AAAAAAAAAEA/RDw9VVIGQDY/s72-c/depression_22319.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-2647237778398187960</id><published>2009-01-12T18:48:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.859-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Alive Outside - Dead Inside</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWvle-fTGxI/AAAAAAAAADQ/En9iz1TP5gE/s1600-h/Brislecone+Pine+102.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 197px; height: 277px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWvle-fTGxI/AAAAAAAAADQ/En9iz1TP5gE/s320/Brislecone+Pine+102.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290574507609889554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see: I have a lot of dead-looking trees on my site.  They are called Bristlecone Pines and are the oldest trees (oldest living things) in the world.  They appear to be dead but are very much alive.    &lt;br /&gt;History books generally point to 2550 B.C. as the approximate date when the pyramid of Giza was under construction&lt;br /&gt;To help you realize just how old today's Bristlecones are, some of theses ancient trees were taking root when the pyramids were being built. &lt;br /&gt;One of the oldest still alive, called Methuselah, has been dated at 4,775 years. Methuselah was some 3,000 years old when Jesus walked the earth.&lt;br /&gt;They appear dead on the outside but are alive on the inside.  A depressed person is just the opposite.  We appear to be quite alive on the outside but are dead within.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-2647237778398187960?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/2647237778398187960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/alive-outside-dead-inside_5944.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2647237778398187960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2647237778398187960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/alive-outside-dead-inside_5944.html' title='Alive Outside - Dead Inside'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWvle-fTGxI/AAAAAAAAADQ/En9iz1TP5gE/s72-c/Brislecone+Pine+102.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-3272915694415544378</id><published>2009-01-11T16:42:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.887-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>The Tragedy of Depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWp6WHb0wgI/AAAAAAAAACw/bhYk822cTdo/s1600-h/Bristlecone+Pine+200.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 137px; height: 204px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWp6WHb0wgI/AAAAAAAAACw/bhYk822cTdo/s320/Bristlecone+Pine+200.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290175232671531522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to take the seven symptoms of depression 'mixed states' that I suffered 'and still feel', and write about them.  I'm not going to 'teach' depression but I'm going to 'talk' depression.  Some of you will be offended and I apologize in advance for that but I feel the the only way to:&lt;br /&gt;1 obtain the catharsis I need &lt;br /&gt;2 give someone who suffers like me some help&lt;br /&gt;3 enable 'normal' people to understand that depression is a real disease and we can't help the way we feel&lt;br /&gt;When I build up the courage&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-3272915694415544378?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/3272915694415544378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/tragedy-of-depression_1314.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3272915694415544378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3272915694415544378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/tragedy-of-depression_1314.html' title='The Tragedy of Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWp6WHb0wgI/AAAAAAAAACw/bhYk822cTdo/s72-c/Bristlecone+Pine+200.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-5851751344505146039</id><published>2009-01-09T20:32:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.458-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>The Loneliness of Depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWqOEBfTlwI/AAAAAAAAADI/92OQdu0Ydt8/s1600-h/Bristlecone+Pine+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWqOEBfTlwI/AAAAAAAAADI/92OQdu0Ydt8/s320/Bristlecone+Pine+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290196912070432514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Agitation - emotional state of excitement or restlessness&lt;br /&gt;2. Anxiety - painful or uneasiness of mind&lt;br /&gt;3. Fatigue - weariness from bodily or mental exertion&lt;br /&gt;4. Guilt - a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some offense,&lt;br /&gt;wrong real or imagined&lt;br /&gt;5. Irritability - easily irritated or annoyed; readily excited to&lt;br /&gt;impatience or anger.&lt;br /&gt;6. Suicidal ideation - thoughts about suicide, which may be as&lt;br /&gt;detailed as a formulated plan, without the suicidal act itself&lt;br /&gt;7. Rage - violent anger….a fit of violent anger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Agitation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can’t sit still.&lt;br /&gt;I leave my office and go down to the assembly line.  My hands sweat.  Sweat runs down my sides.  Everything is going okay…. except my leadman John is piling up way too many rejects.  I’m going to have to pull someone off the line and have them repair the pumps on downtime.  That will come right out of my budget and I have to account for every penny.  I turn to Karen at the sub-assembly bench.&lt;br /&gt;“Can I have a cigarette?”&lt;br /&gt;‘I thought you quit smoking.”&lt;br /&gt;“Just one…..come on Karen.”&lt;br /&gt;“Okay but you were up to a pack a day and I thought you were doing so good”&lt;br /&gt;“Just this one, okay?”&lt;br /&gt;“That’s what you said an hour ago.”&lt;br /&gt;“Come on…..just one more”&lt;br /&gt;The nicotine hits my system and I feel a bit of respite.&lt;br /&gt;Karen looks at me.&lt;br /&gt;“Everything is going smooth Darrel; you don’t have anything to worry about.”&lt;br /&gt;How does she k&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYL2raMo8II/AAAAAAAAAJQ/cnUBlaNVyaM/s1600-h/Depressed+Guy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 194px; height: 288px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYL2raMo8II/AAAAAAAAAJQ/cnUBlaNVyaM/s320/Depressed+Guy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297067337368268930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;now?  Can she feel the terror I feel?  How can she tell that I’m screaming inside?  Can she really see my fear?&lt;br /&gt;“Darrel, its okay.”&lt;br /&gt;I turn and walk away before I break down and cry in front of her.  I know she can see into my soul and that frightens me even more.  I’ve got to get away from Karen lest all the fear come gushing out.&lt;br /&gt;From ten feet away I glance back at her to see a quizzical/hurt look on her face.  She knows and cares but I can’t let myself break the shell.  My shell protects me.&lt;br /&gt;My shell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-5851751344505146039?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/5851751344505146039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/loneliness-of-depression_8391.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/5851751344505146039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/5851751344505146039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/loneliness-of-depression_8391.html' title='The Loneliness of Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWqOEBfTlwI/AAAAAAAAADI/92OQdu0Ydt8/s72-c/Bristlecone+Pine+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-7083843726652161009</id><published>2009-01-06T18:34:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.907-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Desired Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CDarrell%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Desiderata&lt;/span&gt;" &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;(Latin for "desired things") is an inspirational prose poem about attaining happiness in life. It was first copyrighted in 1927 by Max Ehrmann.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some of you may not have read it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Please do…and find what peace there may be in the words of this now immortal poem.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Go placidly amid the noise and haste,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And remember what peace there may be in silence.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As far as possible without surrender,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Be on good terms with all persons.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others -&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Even the dull and ignorant, they too have their story.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Avoid loud and aggressive persons - they are vexations to the spirit.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Keep interested in your own career -&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;However humble, it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Exercise caution in your business affairs,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For the world is full of trickery.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But let this not blind you to what virtue there is.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Many persons strive for high ideals,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And everywhere life is full of heroism.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Be yourself.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Especially do not feign affection, neither be cynical about love.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;For in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It is as perennial as the grass.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Take kindly the council of the years,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Gracefully surrendering the things of youth.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But do not distress yourself with imaginings -&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Many fears are borne of fatigue and loneliness.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You are a child of the universe.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No less than the trees and the stars, you have a right to be here.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And whether or not it is clear to you,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And whatever your labors and aspirations,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the noisy confusion of life,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Keep peace with your soul.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It is still a beautiful world.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Be careful. Strive to be happy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;http://www.fleurdelis.com/desiderata.htm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-7083843726652161009?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/7083843726652161009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/desired-things_8591.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/7083843726652161009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/7083843726652161009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/desired-things_8591.html' title='Desired Things'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-3098106875402264949</id><published>2009-01-01T15:16:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.813-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Causes'/><title type='text'>Transmitters &amp; Receptors</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SV_GqtSksyI/AAAAAAAAABI/cz0loNtnwog/s1600-h/synapse+neuro+to+receptor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 178px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SV_GqtSksyI/AAAAAAAAABI/cz0loNtnwog/s320/synapse+neuro+to+receptor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287162924570555170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. A neuron sends a transmitter across the synapse (gap&lt;br /&gt;between neurons) and&lt;br /&gt;2. The next neuron receives it thru a receptor on its surface. When&lt;br /&gt;a matching neurotransmitter and receptor come into contact with each&lt;br /&gt;other, the neurotransmitter locks into the receptor.&lt;br /&gt;3. The receptor then becomes activated.&lt;br /&gt;4. When there are no neurotransmitter molecules around to unlock&lt;br /&gt;the receptors, the receptors remain in a closed or inactive state&lt;br /&gt;5. Free floating neurotransmitters are taken back up by the neuron&lt;br /&gt;that originally released them. This is called reuptake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SSRIs inhibit (or reduce) the action of reuptake so that there is more serotonin in the synapse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been found that there is an association between depression and three&lt;br /&gt;main neurotransmitters:&lt;br /&gt;1. Serotonin,&lt;br /&gt;2. Norepinephrine&lt;br /&gt;3. Dopamine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These three neurotransmitters function within the brain and regulate&lt;br /&gt;emotions&lt;br /&gt;1. Reactions to stress&lt;br /&gt;2. Physical drives of&lt;br /&gt;a. sleep&lt;br /&gt;b. appetite&lt;br /&gt;c. sexuality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.cdhb.govt.nz/totara/images/brain.jpg&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://www.cdhb.govt.nz/totara/brain.htm&amp;amp;h=498&amp;amp;w=492&amp;amp;sz=51&amp;amp;tbnid=dUlWfxcKiTC8DM::&amp;amp;tbnh=130&amp;amp;tbnw=128&amp;amp;prev=/images%3Fq%3Dpicture%2Bof%2Bneurotransmitter&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;usg=__xKshuJswgiNm1VWVvPaGxmRBHzk=&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;oi=image_result&amp;amp;resnum=4&amp;amp;ct=image&amp;amp;cd=1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://cwx.prenhall.com/bookbind/pubbooks/morris5/medialib/psychplace/synapse/intro.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-3098106875402264949?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/3098106875402264949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/transmitters-receptors_282.html#comment-form' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3098106875402264949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3098106875402264949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2009/01/transmitters-receptors_282.html' title='Transmitters &amp;amp; Receptors'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SV_GqtSksyI/AAAAAAAAABI/cz0loNtnwog/s72-c/synapse+neuro+to+receptor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-383204410178940348</id><published>2008-12-25T11:03:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.578-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Types'/><title type='text'>Types of Depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgY5gU5OHI/AAAAAAAAACA/LC81rKW-QZk/s1600-h/Brislecone+Pine.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 137px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgY5gU5OHI/AAAAAAAAACA/LC81rKW-QZk/s320/Brislecone+Pine.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289505138555828338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason many people do not seek help for depression is that they simply do not recognize the symptoms.  Listed below are eleven more types of depression.  Let me know if I’ve missed any and I’ll be glad to include them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Major Depressive Disorder&lt;/span&gt; See below&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dysthymic Disorder&lt;/span&gt; See below&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Manic Depression&lt;/span&gt; See below&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mixed States&lt;/span&gt; See below&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Seasonal Affective Disorder&lt;/span&gt; (SAD) – A type of depressive disorder which is characterized by episodes of major depression which reoccur at a specific time of the year (e.g. fall, winter). In the past two years, depressive periods occur at least two times without any episodes that occur at a different time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Post Partum Depression&lt;/span&gt; – Major depressive episode that occurs after having a baby. Depressive symptoms usually begin within four weeks of giving birth and can vary in intensity and duration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Atypical Depression&lt;/span&gt; (Sub-type of Major Depression or Dysthymia) - Characterized by a temporary improvement in mood in reaction to positive events and two (or more) of the following:&lt;br /&gt;• Increase or decrease in appetite&lt;br /&gt;• Over sleeping&lt;br /&gt;• Heavy feeling in arms or legs&lt;br /&gt;• Long standing pattern of sensitivity to rejection&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chronic Depression&lt;/span&gt; – Major depressive episode that lasts for at least two years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Double Depression&lt;/span&gt; – Someone who has Dysthymia (chronic mild depression) and also experiences a major depressive episode (more severe depressive symptoms lasting at least two weeks).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Endogenous Depression&lt;/span&gt; – Endogenous means from within the body. This type of depression is defined as feeling depressed for no apparent reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Situational Depression or Reactive Depression&lt;/span&gt; (also known as Adjustment Disorder with Depressed Mood) – Depressive symptoms developing in response to a specific stressful situation or event (e.g. job loss, relationship ending). These symptoms occur within 3 months of the stressor and lasts no longer than 6 months after the stressor (or its consequences) has ended. Depression symptoms cause significant distress or impairs usual functioning (e.g. relationships, work, school) and do not meet the criteria for major depressive disorder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Agitated Depression&lt;/span&gt; – Kind of major depressive disorder which is characterized by agitation such as physical and emotional restlessness, irritability and insomnia, which is the oppo&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYKGcII5HII/AAAAAAAAAIo/777C8SjL6Nc/s1600-h/Depressed+Guy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 170px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SYKGcII5HII/AAAAAAAAAIo/777C8SjL6Nc/s320/Depressed+Guy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296943929520364674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;site of many depressed individuals who have low energy and feel slowed down physically and mentally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Psychotic Depression&lt;/span&gt; – Major depressive episode with psychotic symptoms such as hallucinations (e.g. hearing voices), delusions (false beliefs).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Melancholic Depression&lt;/span&gt; (Sub-type of Major Depressive Disorder) - Main features of this kind of depression include either a loss of pleasure in virtually all activities or mood does not temporarily improve in response to a positive event. Also, three (or more) of the following are present:&lt;br /&gt;• Depressed mood that has a distinct quality (e.g. different from&lt;br /&gt;     feeling depressed when grieving)&lt;br /&gt;• Depression is consistently worse in the morning&lt;br /&gt;• Waking up earlier than usual (at least 2 hours)&lt;br /&gt;• Noticeable excessive movement or slowing down&lt;br /&gt;• Significant decrease in appetite or weight loss&lt;br /&gt;• Feeling excessive or inappropriate guilt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Catatonic Depression&lt;/span&gt; -&lt;br /&gt;(Sub-type of Major Depressive Disorder) – This type of depression is&lt;br /&gt;     characterized by at least two of the following:&lt;br /&gt;• Loss of voluntary movement and inability to react to one's environment&lt;br /&gt;• Excessive movement (purposeless and not in response to one's environment)&lt;br /&gt;• Extreme resistance to instructions/suggestions or unable/unwilling to speak&lt;br /&gt;• Odd or inappropriate voluntary movements or postures (e.g.&lt;br /&gt;     repetitive movements, bizarre mannerisms or facial expressions)&lt;br /&gt;• Involuntarily repeating someone’s words or movements in a meaningless way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.depression-help-resource.com/types-of-depression.htm&lt;br /&gt;http://www.psychnet-uk.com/dsm_iv/_misc/complete_tables.htm&lt;br /&gt;http://www.psychologyinfo.com/depression/depression_types.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-383204410178940348?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/383204410178940348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/types-of-depression_6357.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/383204410178940348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/383204410178940348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/types-of-depression_6357.html' title='Types of Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgY5gU5OHI/AAAAAAAAACA/LC81rKW-QZk/s72-c/Brislecone+Pine.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-2230952713208876980</id><published>2008-12-23T22:37:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.797-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>Symtoms of Depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgmw3aNaDI/AAAAAAAAACg/FGobj7YV3jM/s1600-h/Bristlecone+Pine+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 179px; height: 131px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgmw3aNaDI/AAAAAAAAACg/FGobj7YV3jM/s320/Bristlecone+Pine+4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289520383296104498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Agitation&lt;br /&gt;2. Anxiety&lt;br /&gt;3. Fatigue&lt;br /&gt;4. Guilt&lt;br /&gt;5. Impulsiveness&lt;br /&gt;6. Irritability&lt;br /&gt;7. Suicidal ideation&lt;br /&gt;8. Panic&lt;br /&gt;9. Paranoia&lt;br /&gt;10. Pressured speech&lt;br /&gt;11. Rage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from&lt;br /&gt;• &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pressured Speech&lt;/span&gt; (rapid, loud and difficult-to-interrupt speech) &lt;br /&gt;--      I don’t talk loud or fast (well maybe when Sherry and I are having&lt;br /&gt;            a ‘discussion’.  During times such as these I find she understands&lt;br /&gt;            me better if I just ‘speak a little louder’) lol&lt;br /&gt;• &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Paranoia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--      For some reason I’ve always just assumed everybody liked me – not&lt;br /&gt;            everybody, I guess, but that’s their problem&lt;br /&gt;• &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Panic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--     Anxious? yes  but panic? nah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at that list of eight horrible, terrible traits I know that was me.  It’s hard to believe that was really me.&lt;br /&gt;What I find puzzling is that most people in the ‘depression blog’ seem to be in pretty good spirits.  Is it that blogging is therapeutic or are folks not really able to blog ‘unless’ their depression is under control?&lt;br /&gt;I will continue to explore now that I can kind of (I hope forever) look at depression objectively.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-2230952713208876980?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/2230952713208876980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/symtoms-of-depression_2788.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2230952713208876980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2230952713208876980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/symtoms-of-depression_2788.html' title='Symtoms of Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgmw3aNaDI/AAAAAAAAACg/FGobj7YV3jM/s72-c/Bristlecone+Pine+4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-4029757094103258320</id><published>2008-12-22T17:15:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.531-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Personal Depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgkvfTnZYI/AAAAAAAAACI/kZ0j0kz0DrU/s1600-h/Bristlecone+Pine+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 209px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgkvfTnZYI/AAAAAAAAACI/kZ0j0kz0DrU/s320/Bristlecone+Pine+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289518160622871938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After over 30 years of doctors, psychiatrists, and therapists I was diagnosed with Mixed States.   I was put on Lithium, Equatro, and Thyroid.  It took about 3 months but almost miraculously I actually began to feel better.  It was as though I were tentatively finding my way out of a long dark tunnel.  At first the light was so intense that I really couldn’t bear it.  I retreated back into the tunnel where I was ‘&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;comfortable&lt;/span&gt;’.&lt;br /&gt;After seeing improvement then retreat, my wife almost threw up her hands, but I guess she figured she had so much invested that she may as well hang in there a little longer.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been on my new medications for about one and a half years.  I’m not completely out of the tunnel though.  My doctor still has to tweak my meds by changing dosages and adding things like folic acid and Co Enzyme Q-10.&lt;br /&gt;The biggest problem I face now is how do I overcome the personal quirks that depression has forced on me over the last 30 years?&lt;br /&gt;For example; my temperament is that of an easy-going, fun-loving person, but the rage in my depression has driven my wife away from me.  When she would isolate, then, of course, I would too.  How do I change this emotionless shell I’ve built around myself?  I’m trying to be the man God meant me to be but I just don’t know how to change.  Can anybody help me?  I just need some advice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-4029757094103258320?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/4029757094103258320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/personal-depression_7466.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/4029757094103258320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/4029757094103258320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/personal-depression_7466.html' title='Personal Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgkvfTnZYI/AAAAAAAAACI/kZ0j0kz0DrU/s72-c/Bristlecone+Pine+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-4107339217399198518</id><published>2008-12-21T14:32:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.689-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>Test For Depression</title><content type='html'>Here's a real short test that will confirm what you already know.  It's linked to the National Institute of Mental Health which has some very good stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.med.nyu.edu/psych/screens/depres.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-4107339217399198518?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/4107339217399198518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/test-for-depression_2300.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/4107339217399198518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/4107339217399198518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/test-for-depression_2300.html' title='Test For Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-5787314700334582175</id><published>2008-12-21T13:19:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.835-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Personal Depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWwSv7w28xI/AAAAAAAAADY/DZsXG9Q_PJs/s1600-h/Bristlecone+Pine+6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 215px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWwSv7w28xI/AAAAAAAAADY/DZsXG9Q_PJs/s320/Bristlecone+Pine+6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290624276959261458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wander thru the darkened corridors of my mind.  Ominous clouds roil above me.  Lightening races across a leaden sky, followed by the voice of an angry God.&lt;br /&gt;I place my hand against the wall.  It comes away wet and cold.&lt;br /&gt;I press on.  Others have told me there is a place of warmth and beauty; a place that is always rich and bright.&lt;br /&gt;Ahead I see a doorway.  Hope gives rise to urgency.  I hurry forward&lt;br /&gt;and turn the corner only to see a canyon deep and dark.  I drop to my knees as my soul cries bitter tears.&lt;br /&gt;I raise my face to heaven and cry, “Why me Lord?  Why me?”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-5787314700334582175?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/5787314700334582175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/personal-depression_9059.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/5787314700334582175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/5787314700334582175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/personal-depression_9059.html' title='Personal Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWwSv7w28xI/AAAAAAAAADY/DZsXG9Q_PJs/s72-c/Bristlecone+Pine+6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-8774814698422716873</id><published>2008-12-20T21:52:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.781-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Types'/><title type='text'>Types of Depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWzzqxs6eVI/AAAAAAAAAD4/R4XYOQYL3Go/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 169px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWzzqxs6eVI/AAAAAAAAAD4/R4XYOQYL3Go/s320/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290871578475264338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are several different types of depression. They are distinguished by the length and severity of symptoms. Most of these are found in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM IV), an American Psychiatric Association publication which describes psychiatric disorders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Major Depressive Disorder&lt;/span&gt; (296.02-.36) (also known as Major Depression, Clinical Depression) – A major depressive episode occurs with symptoms that last for most of the day, nearly every day for at least two weeks. A symptom must either be&lt;br /&gt;1) Depressed mood or&lt;br /&gt;2) A noticeable decrease in interest or pleasure in most activities.&lt;br /&gt;3) At least four additional symptoms are present:&lt;br /&gt;• decrease or increase in eating&lt;br /&gt;• difficulty sleeping or increase in sleeping&lt;br /&gt;• fatigue or loss of energy&lt;br /&gt;• feeling worthless or excessively guilty&lt;br /&gt;• difficulty concentrating or making decisions&lt;br /&gt;• repeatedly thinking about death or suicide, trying to attempt suicide or having a specific plan to commit suicide&lt;br /&gt;• excessive movement or slowing down associated with mental tension (observed by others)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dysthymic Disorder&lt;/span&gt; (300.40) (or also referred to as Chronic) – Nearly constant depressed mood for at least 2 years accompanied by at least two of the following:&lt;br /&gt;• decrease or increase in eating&lt;br /&gt;• difficulty sleeping or increase in sleeping&lt;br /&gt;• fatigue or loss of energy&lt;br /&gt;• feeling worthless or excessively guilty&lt;br /&gt;• difficulty concentrating or making decisions&lt;br /&gt;• feeling hopeless&lt;br /&gt;Symptoms do not occur for more than two months at a time. Generally, this type has persistent but less severe depressive symptoms than Major Depression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Manic Depression&lt;/span&gt; (296.20-36) (now known as Bipolar Disorder) – This kind of depression includes periods of mania and depression. Cycling between these two states can be rapid or only mania can be present. A manic episode consists of a persistent elevated or irritable mood that is extreme, which lasts for at least one week. At least three (four if only irritable mood) other features are also present:&lt;br /&gt;• Inflated self-esteem or self-importance&lt;br /&gt;• Decreased need for sleep&lt;br /&gt;• More talkative than usual or compelled to keep talking&lt;br /&gt;• Experiencing racing thoughts or ideas&lt;br /&gt;• Easily distracted&lt;br /&gt;• Increase in goal-oriented activity (social, work, school, sexual)&lt;br /&gt;• Excessive involvement in potentially risky pleasurable behavior (e.g. over spending, careless sexual activity, unwise business investments)&lt;br /&gt;Symptoms can be severe enough to warrant hospitalization to prevent harm to self or others or may include hallucinations, delusions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mixed States&lt;/span&gt; (296.06-.80) is a condition during which symptoms of mania or hypomania (lower than mania) and symptoms of depression occur simultaneously. During a mixed episode, the person may experience&lt;br /&gt;• Impulsiveness&lt;br /&gt;• Insomnia&lt;br /&gt;• Irritability&lt;br /&gt;• Flights of ideas&lt;br /&gt;• Suicidal thoughts&lt;br /&gt;• Guilt&lt;br /&gt;• Feelings of hopelessness&lt;br /&gt;• Changes in appetite&lt;br /&gt;These are common during depressive episodes. Mixed episodes can be incredibly distressing to the individual. It can lead to panic attacks, substance abuse, and suicide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As mentioned earlier, I suffer from Mixed States.  I manifest everyone of the symptoms.  When I get a little more courage, I’ll share some of my experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.dr-bob.org/tips/dsm4a.html&lt;br /&gt;http://www.depression-help-resource.com/types-of-depression.htm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-8774814698422716873?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/8774814698422716873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/types-of-depression_4872.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8774814698422716873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/8774814698422716873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/types-of-depression_4872.html' title='Types of Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWzzqxs6eVI/AAAAAAAAAD4/R4XYOQYL3Go/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-2976852204591534711</id><published>2008-12-19T11:27:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.487-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Symptoms'/><title type='text'>Symtoms of Depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgYbnjVfRI/AAAAAAAAAB4/9JxtFbvKgu8/s1600-h/Bristlecone+Pine+2.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 382px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgYbnjVfRI/AAAAAAAAAB4/9JxtFbvKgu8/s320/Bristlecone+Pine+2.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289504625099373842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depression is a serious medical illness that involves the brain. It's more than just a feeling of being "down in the dumps" or "blue" for a few days. If you are one of the more than 20 million people in the United States who have depression, the feelings do not go away. They persist and interfere with your everyday life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To meet criteria for depression, five or more of these symptoms must be present for more than 2 weeks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Ongoing sad, anxious or empty feelings&lt;br /&gt;• Feelings of hopelessness&lt;br /&gt;• Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, or helplessness&lt;br /&gt;• Feeling irritable or restless&lt;br /&gt;• Loss of interest in activities or hobbies that  were once&lt;br /&gt;      enjoyable, including sex&lt;br /&gt;• Feeling tired all the time&lt;br /&gt;• Difficulty concentrating, remembering details, or difficulty&lt;br /&gt;      making decisions&lt;br /&gt;• Not able to go to sleep or stay asleep (insomnia); may wake in the&lt;br /&gt;      middle  of the night, or sleep all the time&lt;br /&gt;• Overeating or loss of appetite&lt;br /&gt;• Thoughts of suicide or making suicide attempts&lt;br /&gt;• Ongoing aches and pains, headaches, cramps or digestive problems that&lt;br /&gt;      do not go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This website contains a great tutorial that is well worth watching&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/tutorials/depression/htm/_no_50_no_0.htm &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/publications/depression-easy-to-read.shtml&lt;br /&gt;http://www.healthyplace.com/Communities/Depression/definition.asp&lt;br /&gt;http://www.indepression.com/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-2976852204591534711?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/2976852204591534711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/symtoms-of-depression_8285.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2976852204591534711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/2976852204591534711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/12/symtoms-of-depression_8285.html' title='Symtoms of Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgYbnjVfRI/AAAAAAAAAB4/9JxtFbvKgu8/s72-c/Bristlecone+Pine+2.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-7044050776599842500</id><published>2008-11-21T17:38:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.598-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hospital'/><title type='text'>Hope For Depression</title><content type='html'>Hospital of St Mary of Bethlehem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hospital of St Mary of Bethlehem has been a part of London since 1247, first as a priory for the sisters and brothers of the Order of the Star of Bethlehem. In 1330 it is mentioned as a hospital, and it admitted the mentally ill from 1377 though by1403 there were only nine inmates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early sixteenth century maps show Bethlehem as a courtyard with a few stone buildings, a church and a garden. Conditions were consistently dreadful, and the care amounted to little more than restraint. There were 31 patients and the noise was "so hideous, so great; that they are more able to drive a man that hath his wits rather out of them"'. Violent or dangerous patients were manacled and chained to the floor or wall. Some were allowed to leave, and licensed to beg.  In 1598 an inspection showed neglect; the cesspool badly needed emptying, and the kitchen drains needed replacing. There were 20 patients there, one of whom had been there in excess of 25 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between 1728 and 1852, Bethlehem's physicians all came from the Monro family -- James, John, Thomas and Edward Thomas  They brought in a few therapeutic innovations -- cold and hot baths for instance -- but Bethlehem’s mainstays were the familiar purgatives (induced diarrhea) and emetics (induced vomiting), with a routine spring bloodletting using leeches, and manacles for the troublesome.&lt;br /&gt;When Bethlehem was visited in 1814 by Edward Wakefield, he was shocked on encountering one patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James Norris:&lt;br /&gt;A stout iron ring was riveted round his neck, from which a short chain passed through a ring made to slide upwards and downwards on an upright massive iron bar, more than six feet high, inserted into the wall. Round his body a strong iron bar about 12 inches wide was riveted; on each side of the bar was a ring; which was fashioned to and enclosed each of his arms, pinioned them close to his sides.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXvtrUdpyXI/AAAAAAAAAG0/BRl6k4F7jiw/s1600-h/James+Norris.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 223px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXvtrUdpyXI/AAAAAAAAAG0/BRl6k4F7jiw/s320/James+Norris.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295087115387390322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James Norris had been thus immobilized for twelve years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bethlehem Hospital became famous and infamous for the brutal ill-treatment meted out to the insane. In the 18th century people used to go there to see the lunatics. For a penny one could peer into their cells, view the freaks of the "show of Bethlehem" and laugh at their antics, generally of a sexual nature or violent fights. Entry was free on the first Tuesday of the month. Visitors were permitted to bring long sticks with which to poke and enrage the inmates. In 1814, there were 96,000 such visits, approximately 260 per day.&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell a story that very well may have taken place in the 19th century&lt;br /&gt;A man has a beloved son who often throws himself to the ground writhing and foaming at the mouth.  The man takes his son to the local priest hoping against hope that something could be done.  Didn’t Jesus Himself cast demons from a boy in a similar situation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The priest prayers for days and performs exorcisms to no available.&lt;br /&gt;The man, sadly, turns to Bethlehem as the only place to shelter his son.&lt;br /&gt;The young man, perhaps named James Norris, spends the next twelve years as described above; sitting in his own feces with nothing to look forward to but the weekly visits of the town-folk with the their sticks and their jeers.&lt;br /&gt;Today we have medications that allow epileptics to lead relativity normal lives.  We know so much more about brain chemicals that James Norris would never have had to suffer as he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a few years the average person will realize that depression is not “the blues” or just plain old “laziness”  but a chemical imbalance that can be corrected&lt;br /&gt;The name of the hospital was later shortened to “Bedlam”.  Bedlam now means a place, scene, or state of uproar and confusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://instruct.uwo.ca/english/234e/site/bckgrnds/maps/lndnmpbedlam.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://books.google.com/books?id=3EEOAAAAQAAJ&amp;amp;pg=PA29&amp;amp;lpg=PA29&amp;amp;dq=st+mary+bethlehem+hospital&amp;amp;source=web&amp;amp;ots=gTc9iMfXh1&amp;amp;sig=G-HZBAFCOewAOa0ewtphOWLkRj4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;oi=book_result&amp;amp;resnum=7&amp;amp;ct=result&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-7044050776599842500?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/7044050776599842500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/11/hope-for-depression_2215.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/7044050776599842500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/7044050776599842500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/11/hope-for-depression_2215.html' title='Hope For Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXvtrUdpyXI/AAAAAAAAAG0/BRl6k4F7jiw/s72-c/James+Norris.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-950985508799808047</id><published>2008-11-13T19:01:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T13:30:02.681-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='What To Say/Not to Say'/><title type='text'>What to Say to a Depressed Person</title><content type='html'>REMEMBER – YOU CAN”T FIX DEPRESSION!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. "I love you!"&lt;br /&gt;2. "I care"&lt;br /&gt;3. "You're not alone in this"&lt;br /&gt;4. "I'm not going to leave/abandon you"&lt;br /&gt;5. "Do you want a hug?"&lt;br /&gt;6. "I love you (if you mean it)."&lt;br /&gt;7. "It will pass, we can ride it out together."&lt;br /&gt;8. "When all this is over, I'll still be here (if you mean it) and so will you."&lt;br /&gt;9. "Let me hold your hand and listen while you cry."&lt;br /&gt;10. "All I want to do do is give you a hug and a shoulder to cry on.."&lt;br /&gt;11. "Hey, you're not crazy!"&lt;br /&gt;12. "God does not play dice with the universe." --A. Einstein&lt;br /&gt;13. "We are not on earth to see through one another, but to see one&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXNeLdnoSeI/AAAAAAAAAFg/a3Woq4Q4S7M/s1600-h/bristle.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 155px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXNeLdnoSeI/AAAAAAAAAFg/a3Woq4Q4S7M/s320/bristle.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292677538112883170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  another through" –&lt;br /&gt;14. "If the human brain were simple enough to understand, we'd be too simple&lt;br /&gt;  to understand it." --a co-developer of Prozac, quoted from "Listening&lt;br /&gt;  to Prozac"&lt;br /&gt;15. "You have so many extraordinary gifts; how can you expect to live&lt;br /&gt;  an ordinary life?"&lt;br /&gt;16. "I understand your pain and I empathize."&lt;br /&gt;17. "I'm sorry you're in so much pain. I am not going to leave you.&lt;br /&gt;  I am going to take care of myself so you don't need to worry that your&lt;br /&gt;  pain might&lt;br /&gt;  hurt me."&lt;br /&gt;18. "I listen to you talk about it, and I can't imagine what it's like for you.&lt;br /&gt;  I just can't imagine how hard it must be."&lt;br /&gt;19. "I can't really fully understand what you are feeling, but I can offer&lt;br /&gt;  my compassion."&lt;br /&gt;20. "You are important to me."&lt;br /&gt;21. "If you need a friend..... (and mean it)"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-950985508799808047?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/950985508799808047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-to-say-to-depressed-person_9219.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/950985508799808047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/950985508799808047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-to-say-to-depressed-person_9219.html' title='What to Say to a Depressed Person'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SXNeLdnoSeI/AAAAAAAAAFg/a3Woq4Q4S7M/s72-c/bristle.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-3924403842203921577</id><published>2008-11-11T16:04:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T13:31:32.397-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='What To Say/Not to Say'/><title type='text'>What Not To Say</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWzwP4Ej1aI/AAAAAAAAADo/NirMebwG3pY/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWzwP4Ej1aI/AAAAAAAAADo/NirMebwG3pY/s320/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290867817793705378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What NOT to say to a person suffering from depression&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is most tempting, when you find out someone is depressed, to attempt to immediately fix the problem. However, until the depressed person has given you permission to be their therapist (as a friend or professional), the following responses are more likely to hurt the depressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. "Will you stop that constant whining? What makes you think that anyone cares?"&lt;br /&gt;2. "Have you gotten tired yet of all this me-me-me stuff?"&lt;br /&gt;3. "You just need to give yourself a kick in the rear."&lt;br /&gt;4. "But it's all in your mind."&lt;br /&gt;5. "I thought you were stronger than that."&lt;br /&gt;6. "No one ever said life was fair."&lt;br /&gt;7. "As you get stronger you won't have to wallow in it as much."&lt;br /&gt;8. "Pull yourself up by your bootstraps."&lt;br /&gt;9. "Do you feel better now?" (Usually said following a five minute conversation in which the speaker has asked me "what's wrong?" and "would you like to talk about it?" with the best of intentions, but absolutely no understanding of depression as anything but an irrational sadness.)&lt;br /&gt;10. "Why don't you just grow up?"&lt;br /&gt;11. . "Stop feeling sorry for yourself."&lt;br /&gt;12. "There are a lot of people worse off than you."&lt;br /&gt;13. "You have it so good, why aren't you happy?"&lt;br /&gt;14. "It's a beautiful day!"&lt;br /&gt;15. "You have so many things to be thankful for, why are you depressed?"&lt;br /&gt;16. "What do you have to be depressed about?."&lt;br /&gt;17. "Happiness is a choice." (two prominent physicians)&lt;br /&gt;18. "You think you've got problems..."&lt;br /&gt;19. "Well at least it's not that bad."&lt;br /&gt;20. "Maybe you should take vitamins for your stress."&lt;br /&gt;21. "There is always somebody worse off than you are."&lt;br /&gt;22. "Lighten up!"&lt;br /&gt;23. "You should get off all those pills."&lt;br /&gt;24. "You are what you think."&lt;br /&gt;25. "Cheer up!"&lt;br /&gt;26. "You're always feeling sorry for yourself."&lt;br /&gt;27. "Why can't you just be normal?"&lt;br /&gt;28. "Things aren't that bad, are they?"&lt;br /&gt;29. "Have you been praying/reading the Bible?"&lt;br /&gt;30. "You need to get out more."&lt;br /&gt;31. "We have to get together some time." [Yeah, right!]&lt;br /&gt;32. "Get a grip!"&lt;br /&gt;33. "Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be." (Lincoln himself)&lt;br /&gt;34. "Well, everyone gets depressed sometimes!"&lt;br /&gt;35. "Smile and the world smiles with you, cry and you cry alone."&lt;br /&gt;36. "You don't look depressed!"&lt;br /&gt;37. "You're so selfish!"&lt;br /&gt;38. "You never think of anyone but yourself."&lt;br /&gt;39. "You're just looking for attention."&lt;br /&gt;40. "You'll be a better person because of it!"&lt;br /&gt;41. "Everybody has a bad day now and then."&lt;br /&gt;42. "You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."&lt;br /&gt;43. "Why don't you smile more?"&lt;br /&gt;44. "A person your age should be having the time of your life."&lt;br /&gt;45. "The only one you're hurting is yourself."&lt;br /&gt;46. "You can do anything you want if you just set your mind to it."&lt;br /&gt;47. "This is a place of business, not a hospital." (after confiding to my supervisor about my depression)&lt;br /&gt;48. "Depression is a symptom of your sin against God."&lt;br /&gt;49. "You brought it on yourself"&lt;br /&gt;50. "You can make the choice for depression and its effects, or against depression, it's all in your hands."&lt;br /&gt;51. "Get off your rear and do something." -or- "Just do it!"&lt;br /&gt;52. "Why should I care?"&lt;br /&gt;53. "Snap out of it, will you?"&lt;br /&gt;54. "You just want to feel this way."&lt;br /&gt;55. "You have no reason to feel this way."&lt;br /&gt;56. "Its your own fault."&lt;br /&gt;57. "That which does not kill us makes us stronger."&lt;br /&gt;58. "You're always worried about your problems."&lt;br /&gt;59. "Your problems aren't that big."&lt;br /&gt;60. "What are you worried about? You should be fine."&lt;br /&gt;61. "Just don't think about it."&lt;br /&gt;62. "Go Away."&lt;br /&gt;63. "Just wait a few weeks, it'll be over soon."&lt;br /&gt;64. "Go out and have some fun!"&lt;br /&gt;65. "You're making me depressed as well..."&lt;br /&gt;66. "I just want to help you."&lt;br /&gt;67. "The world out there is not that bad..."&lt;br /&gt;68. "Just try a little harder!"&lt;br /&gt;69. "Believe me, I know how you feel. I was depressed once for several days."&lt;br /&gt;70. "You need a hobby."&lt;br /&gt;71. "Just pull yourself together"&lt;br /&gt;72. "You'd feel better if you went to church"&lt;br /&gt;73. "I think your depression is a way of punishing us." (friends or relatives)&lt;br /&gt;74. "Sh** or get off the pot."&lt;br /&gt;75. "So, you're depressed. Aren't you always?"&lt;br /&gt;76. "What you need is some real tragedy in your life to give you perspective."&lt;br /&gt;77. This one is best executed with an evangelical-style handshake, i.e., one of my hand imprisoned by two belonging to a beefy person who thinks he has a lot more charisma than I do: "Our thoughts and prayers are with you”."&lt;br /&gt;78. "You will be ok, just hang in there, it will pass." "This too shall pass." --Ann Landers&lt;br /&gt;79. "Oh, perk up!"&lt;br /&gt;80. "Try not being so depressed."&lt;br /&gt;81. "Quit whining. Go out and help someone else and you won't have time to brood..."&lt;br /&gt;82. "Go out and get some fresh air... that always makes me feel better."&lt;br /&gt;83. "You have to take up your bed and carry on."&lt;br /&gt;84. "Well, we all have our cross to bear."&lt;br /&gt;85. "Just change your mind."&lt;br /&gt;86. "You're useless."&lt;br /&gt;87. "Nobody is responsible for your depression but you."&lt;br /&gt;88. "You don't like feeling that way? So, change it."&lt;br /&gt;89. What's your problem?"&lt;br /&gt;90. "Why don't you give up going to these quacks (i.e., doctors) and throw out those pills, then you'll feel better."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-3924403842203921577?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/3924403842203921577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-not-to-say_5901.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3924403842203921577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/3924403842203921577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-not-to-say_5901.html' title='What Not To Say'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWzwP4Ej1aI/AAAAAAAAADo/NirMebwG3pY/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-4711525765650641947</id><published>2008-11-06T20:55:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.761-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medications'/><title type='text'>Medications For Depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgnqQwhKXI/AAAAAAAAACo/xr7iWSx5PNU/s1600-h/Bristlecone+Pine+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 178px; height: 237px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgnqQwhKXI/AAAAAAAAACo/xr7iWSx5PNU/s320/Bristlecone+Pine+5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289521369353103730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the course of 33 years I was seen by 28 physicians and prescribed some 20 different medications. Each one seemed to work for a few months to a year. Then back I would go. It seemed as though my body would acclimate itself as quickly as possible to the new drugs and there I would be; back in hell.&lt;br /&gt;    1. Anafranil(clomipramine)&lt;br /&gt;    2. Buspar(buspirone)&lt;br /&gt;    3. Celexa(citalopram)&lt;br /&gt;    4. Desyrel(trazodone)&lt;br /&gt;    5. Effexor(venlafaxine)&lt;br /&gt;    6. Elavil(amitriptyline)&lt;br /&gt;    7. Equetro(carbamazepine)&lt;br /&gt;    8. Ludiomil(maprotiline)&lt;br /&gt;    9. Luvox(fluvoxamine)&lt;br /&gt;    10. Norpramin(desipramine)&lt;br /&gt;    11. Paxil(paroxetine)&lt;br /&gt;    12. Prozac(fluoxetine)&lt;br /&gt;    13. Remeron(mirtazapine)&lt;br /&gt;    14. Serzone(nefazodone)&lt;br /&gt;    15. Surmontil(trimipramine)&lt;br /&gt;    16. Tofranil(imipramine)&lt;br /&gt;    17. Vivactil(protriptyline)&lt;br /&gt;    18. Wellbutrin(bupropion)&lt;br /&gt;    19. Zoloft(sertraline)&lt;br /&gt;    20. Electro-convulsive therapy&lt;br /&gt;    This is only a partial list because my memory fades in and out with regards to what I’ve ingested.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-4711525765650641947?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/4711525765650641947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/11/medications-for-depression_5884.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/4711525765650641947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/4711525765650641947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/11/medications-for-depression_5884.html' title='Medications For Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWgnqQwhKXI/AAAAAAAAACo/xr7iWSx5PNU/s72-c/Bristlecone+Pine+5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-1889638475000700992</id><published>2008-11-03T18:58:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.437-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Personal'/><title type='text'>Hope For Depression</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWzxkbzOQpI/AAAAAAAAADw/fq1uRb9qXwo/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 373px; height: 259px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWzxkbzOQpI/AAAAAAAAADw/fq1uRb9qXwo/s320/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290869270493676178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personal Quote&lt;br /&gt;"It is impossible to explain the pain, anger, and exhaustion a mixed episode causes. It is to be filled with rage, at yourself and others and at the world. It is to have so much angry energy inside that you are sure you will explode. The mind can focus on nothing but death and hate. There is no reason. And there is no escape.&lt;br /&gt;At least during a depressive episode you can escape in sleep, but when mixed there is no way out. There is no outlet for the fire, no way to ignore the pain of being."&lt;br /&gt;Unknown&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-1889638475000700992?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/1889638475000700992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/11/hope-for-depression_5047.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1889638475000700992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/1889638475000700992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/11/hope-for-depression_5047.html' title='Hope For Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SWzxkbzOQpI/AAAAAAAAADw/fq1uRb9qXwo/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5586377250476186216.post-7695364667895233555</id><published>2008-10-26T19:58:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T14:11:56.735-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Diagnosis'/><title type='text'>Finding Depression</title><content type='html'>I was diagnosed with depression in 1975.  Given  Tofranyl, I began to feel better for the first time in years.  I frequently asked my wife, “Is this the way normal people feel all the time?”  &lt;br /&gt;The euphoria lasted only a few months and then I was back to the fear and the rage.  It was not until 2008 that I found an accurate description of what I was really feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the context of mental illness, a mixed state (also known as dysphoric mania, agitated depression, or a mixed episode) is a condition during which symptoms of mania and depression occur simultaneously (e.g., agitation, anxiety, fatigue, guilt, impulsiveness, irritability, morbid or suicidal ideation, panic, paranoia, pressured speech and rage). Typical examples include tearfulness during a manic episode or racing thoughts during a depressive episode. One may also feel incredibly frustrated in this state, since one may feel like a failure and at the same time have a flight of ideas. Mixed states can be the most dangerous period of mood disorders, during which substance abuse, panic disorder, suicide attempts, and other complications increase greatly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agitated_depression&lt;br /&gt;http://www.angelfire.com/home/bphoenix1/mixed.html &lt;br /&gt;http://health.discovery.com/centers/mens/articles/depression_02.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5586377250476186216-7695364667895233555?l=personaldepression.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/feeds/7695364667895233555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/10/finding-depression_9727.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/7695364667895233555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5586377250476186216/posts/default/7695364667895233555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://personaldepression.blogspot.com/2008/10/finding-depression_9727.html' title='Finding Depression'/><author><name>Darrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16142561175620068907</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_54pG-xTnoDg/SSg-OgVwOpI/AAAAAAAAAAM/go-2B_-alcg/S220/mac_15.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
