We All Run Out of Gas Sometimes

Insomnia is setting in.

I expected it this time.

I have never hidden the fact that I suffer greatly from depression.  This isn't new news.  Sometimes I feel that it is old news and I whisper to myself, "People are really sick of hearing about your shit, Julie".

Oh well, my blog...my shit.  If you are sick of it, why are you reading?  :-)

Anyway, back to my day.

I am somewhat embarrassed to say it (write it) out loud...and I keep stalling, can you tell?

So...

I guess I will just say it.

I got fired today.

So what does this have to do with depression?

Well, besides the risk of adding to it; it also is the cause of it.

I stopped giving a shit.  I didn't catch it or heed the warning signs.  I just stopped giving a shit and it showed.

I haven't been this bad in a very long time.

The last time I stopped giving a shit at work, I lost the job and it catapulted me into a brand new life in a new state with new adventures.  That was 1998.

I didn't cry and carry on after I was let go.  I accepted the fact, packed up my desk and proceeded to move on.  I didn't even cry when I ran out of gas on the way home.

It is almost comical in a strange sort of way.

It is 1:30 in the morning and I am not tired.  I am not sad.  I am not melancholy.  I am not sobbing "oh poor poor me".  I am not even stressing about what to do next.

Nope

I am writing...well and also toggling back and forth between tabs because I found this...

I am going to be freaking famous someday

Some times things happen for a reason.  Yeah yeah...I know everyone says this to make a bad situation seem not so bad but in all seriousness...

I stopped giving a shit for a reason.

I just wasn't happy.  Happiness is important, sometimes more important than other things.  Life is just too short.

The job was a job that I wasn't passionate about.  It didn't tap into my creative side.  In order to be happy, I need to have passion and creativity.

I know it did pay the bills but I did move to a reasonably priced apartment (that's another thing that happened for a reason).  I can survive until I figure stuff out.

This is all a weird feeling because I thought that as a victim of depression, this would have sent me over the edge...spiraling out of control and dialing up the therapist the second I got into my car (lord knows I had time since I was waiting for eternity for someone to rescue me).

Nope, I have a sense of relief.

Cancer

I normally write a post in Word first, read it and reread it, edit it, spell check it, hem and haw over posting it and then post it.

This is not the case today.  I am just winging it.

Sometimes I just need to do a mind dump and write.

My world has taken on a new perspective lately.  I am learning about different parts of the human anatomy and how radiation works and what chemo does to the cells and there have been discussions about how to have a funeral.

It has been an interesting 6 weeks.

My mom has cancer.

and....it isn't good.

Not like there is a good cancer.  The word cancer is horrible.  It means suffering, sadness, pain, anger, struggle, and a whole bunch of other things that race through my mind.

I knew it wasn't going to be good when mom was admitted to the hospital back in August.  I mean the world's most stubborn person on the planet who hasn't seen a doctor in God knows how long can't be expected to just have a common ailment.  Even I know reality when I see it.

It has been hard.

I live about 5 hours away.  I often wonder how she holds up during treatment or doctor appointments when they say "it is in your bones" or "we need to start treatment or you won't see November". I wish I could just be there to help take her to appointments or to the store or just talk to her face to face.  

It hasn't been too much of a secret that I have unresolved issues with my mother.  I am pretty much sure that these issues will never be resolved.  I've excepted that.

Just because there are issues, doesn't mean I don't care or love her.

I guess in a way, it makes things worse.

I'll just deal with it.