Friday, April 28, 2017


Is What I Have

And I could not be more excited. I have had almost no true time alone since we move to San Antonio. Someone is always home. Even if they are asleep, I still feel that I have to be quiet. The wife works nights and the boy does homeschooling. There is always someone home and there is a constant go, go, go. Now, I cannot say all the go is gone (I still have responsibilities), but I can relish in a couple days worth of interactive freedom. It's amazing. 

Earlier this week I had an anxiety attack, for the silliest of reasons, and I am really not 'used' to them anymore (like I had been earlier in life when they came on regularly). I am still battling depression, majorly, and the rest of the family is vacationing at the beach this weekend. I am unable to go, partly because of school, but the deal was that if I could not be safe alone that I would go with the family on vacation. I soooo wanted some time alone and was still fighting the depression that I just exploded with the anxiety of 'what if I can't do it?' It was just too much. But I made it through that episode and here I am. Alone. Well, not really. I am at school.

This next week will continue to be busy as hell. Even though I have no classes, I have a strict schedule set up for studying and accomplishing school-related tasks, before finals.

Bring It

I have hikes coming up this summer. The most enjoyable pain awaits. So tomorrow I will be taking a local hike. Now, I am in Hill Country, and it has just that... hills. There are no mountains around here. At all. But I hear that Government Canyon is quite pleasant, and I will be hopefully be putting in a few miles out there. And to simulate a hiking pack, I have gotten a hiking belt and attached weights to it. Gotta start early, in the cool part of the day. Because 90 degrees pops its head up fast and if the humidity comes with it, things will be much tougher. I am used to 5000+ feet, where the sun beats down, but low humidity and cool breezes abound. 

As for the Depression

It's here. But for the moment, I am flipping it the bird and doing everything I can just to enjoy the here and now. Let's deal more with it later.


  1. Hi Jason
    I have been reading your blog today as I have lain in bed in, severely depressed with no will to get up. I am ashamed of myself as I read about and admire your efforts to get on with your life no matter how bad you feel. I fear I am also medication resistent as my long episodes of severe clinical depression seem to last from 4 to 6 months each year even though I take high doses of anti depressants and anti psychotics. I am so glad you have such a loving supportive wife and I wish you well.

    1. Hi Nathalie,
      I have comment moderation on, so that I have approve everything. That is why it didn't show up right away. I don't think you should be hard on yourself. For years I got up and went about my life like so many other people do. Wanting to exist and just merely being without effort was intrinsic. Then it went away. I can't tell you why. I've been through the meds, but the ECT was the only thing that began to bring back this will to even get up each day. Once again, I wish I could give an adequate explanation. I am slipping back now and I definitely am fighting it, but I am slowly losing. My point is this, do not be ashamed for what your body controls. Even after ECT, I am on high doses of medications, and regularly attend therapy... and I still battle depression and suicidal ideations.
      This is the analogy I've talked with others about. Imagine we both have cancer. Let's say I'm responding well to medications. You would not be ashamed of yourself by not responding as well. This is our 'cancer', but it is seen differently, even by us.
      Accepting that this is a disease that I cannot think or 'will-power' my way out of took years for me. I cried. I screamed. I hit things. We can only do what we can do and we hope that the help we receive takes hold.
      Thank you for writing. I wish the best for you and I hope to hear from you again,