Tag Archives: depression

I’m worried about my cat

Clint decided to spend the night out last night. He insisted he had to go outside yesterday, then just never showed up when it came time for bed. It has now been over 24 hours since he has eaten here, and he has never been out that long. Needless to say I’m worried for him.

I have been hearing lots of predators in the area, owls, coyotes and I have seen some bobcats while on my walks. Clint might be effective at accidentally clawing my arm but with all the fights he has lost with the local squirrels biting his tail… I’m not sanguine about his condition.

While I’m composing this the pole qualifying for the Daytona 500 is/was on the TV. Junior will be starting alongside repeat pole winner Chase Elliott on the front row for the Daytona 500 Monster Energy NASCAR Cup series race (got to get the full name in there 🙂 )

On other things Mrs. the Poet has thrown away more of my stuff in the process of making enough room for my hot rod in the garage. 😢 I can actually see all the way across the garage in several places now. I still haven’t found that book with the equations for getting the spring rates right on the first try that I bought back in the early ’80s when I first started building cars and haven’t seen in years, since before I blew the engine in my last car in 1995. I remember packing it for the move to Casa de El Poeta in 1994 and as far as I remember that was the last I saw of it. I remember it had a black cover and was written by Len Terry or had an ad for the Terry book as an additional resource. It had a black slip cover with white line illustrations and I think red text. I searched the web and…
I found it!!

That’s the exact edition I’m looking for, because I already own it! OK I had the colors on the illustrations and text reversed but otherwise, that’s what my book looks like. In that book are the equations I need to select the right springs and shocks on the first try, and a bunch of other things, too. Since I don’t have the room to work yet, and Mrs. the Poet throwing away my stuff is limited by the volume of the garbage and recycle bins and how often they are emptied. Which means that instead of getting the trauma over with quickly, the suffering is stretched out for weeks.

Speaking of suffering, this post has gone on long enough. My cat is still wandering around outside, and Mrs. the Poet is still plotting throwing away more of my stuff, and I’m still stressin’.

PSA, Opus the Unkillable

The meds are working

My antidepressant in particular. My body is starting to get acclimated to not being depressed which is reinforcing. As I get used to not being depressed I feel less depressed, which makes me feel better so I feel less depressed… A virtuous circle rather than the vicious circle. And I’m actually getting other emotions that aren’t depression or anger. Some of them seem unusual to me, like fear, real compassion instead of the intellectual compassion I felt in the past.

Speaking of my body becoming used to not being depressed, my BP has changed. The systolic is still up there, but the diastolic, the measurement of how much my heart relaxes between beats, is the lowest it has been in over a decade. My body is remembering how to relax again. Even when I’m upset and there has been a litany of things to be upset about the last two weeks at Casa de El Poeta, I’m still mostly relaxed now. My heart is working more efficiently, it is having to beat less because every beat moves more blood with a more complete relaxation phase between beats. That is one of the big things happening as my body adapts to not being run by a depressed brain.

On the bike pump front I have been approved for a refund, contingent on my returning the broken pump by 3/31/17. Here’s where the problem is on that: I have to print a return label for the box they shipped it to me, and I don’t have access to a working printer. I have a printer but it doesn’t have any cables to connect it to my laptop. Some time between my youngest getting the printer for herself and putting it in her garage because she never had to print anything with it and giving the printer and a bag full of printer cables to me for my birthday the cables for that printer went bye-bye. So I’ll take any assistance I can get on that one.

On the hot rod front I found the actual weight of the Mopar 3.8L pushrod V6 – 413 pounds compared to the 545 pounds for an iron head SBC or 458 for the LS. The 41TE transaxle splits the difference between the TH350 and the 4T65E at just under 200 pounds by one source or between 150 and 200 from several sources. So for weight comparisons 3.8L/41te Mopar just over 600, 350/350 Chevy 675 plus 120 pounds of rear axle or just shy of 800 total, and the LS3/4L70E combo come to 625 plus that 120 pounds of rear axle for about 750 total. So assuming the 1700 pound dry weight for the Speedway kit is accurate my mid-Bucket will hit the scales right at 1500 dry.

And I’m running on 3.5 hours sleep because someone (coughmrsthepoetcough left the bedroom door open and Clint came in to snuggle about 90 minutes before I had my alarm set. I have been falling asleep all afternoon/evening even while I was trying to write this, which might explain the disjointedness of the composition as I was in a different frame of mind every time I woke up. I fell asleep 3 times typing the paragraph prior to this one.

Night-night, Opus the Unkillable

More on not being depressed, this might get a little repetitive

So far this week I have gone to the Lab Rat Keeper, and bought a stamp and mailed a letter at the post office in one day, taken a 2 mile walk to buy cat food, fixed dinner (beans, rice, and vegetables) and had a conversation with Mrs. the Poet on another day, took another two mile walk and had another long conversation with the Mrs. on another day, had a shorter conversation with Mrs. the Poet, went grocery shopping, had another two mile walk and stopped to correct a $0.40 mistake on the grocery bill yesterday, and so far today I had a conversation with Mrs. the Poet plus all the regular maintaining life functions stuff and the day’s barely half over. The conversations are what has Mrs. the Poet excited the most. Seriously this is like meeting an all new person for her as I was already depressed (but didn’t know it) when we first met.

The letter was an order to Ron Coon Resins in NE for 8 Wide 5 hubs, 8 disk brake rotors, 8 wheels, and 2 quick change rear ends. I’m at the point I can’t do the front axles without the actual hubs I’m going to use, so this will let me move on with the build(s). Yes that was a plural on the build, I’m making the “ultimate” build with the LS7 engine at the same time as the “most probable” build with the Small Block Chevy, so I have a 3D blueprint for making either one of them. I’m still trying to find brake calipers for the rear brakes, I found some good ones for the fronts but GM Metric calipers are very hard to find in 1/25 scale. In contrast 1/25 or 1/24 scale 4 piston calipers are common. Most are not cheap (except the Model Car Garage die-casts at $5 a set of 4) but they are available.

On another note I have been thinking of how I could get some pedal time in while I’m on the computer, but I’m at a technical impasse. Anyone know how to make a Chromebook shut down gracefully when the voltage is taken away from the charge port? I think this would be a software thing. I’m trying to get my computer to run on a pedal-powered battery charger and use the battery to keep everything going in sleep mode when I quit turning the pedals. I’m thinking connecting the pedals to a car alternator to make dirty 12VDC then filtering that to the clean 9VDC the computer needs with lots of caps and “stuff” to make an LC filter and a linear regulator for the final output with another filter cap across that output to make it absolutely ripple-free, and then plug that into my computer.

Billed @€0.02, Opus

It’s amazing what can happen when you’re not depressed

I went for a walk today to get some cat food from the store and to max out the captures on the phone game I play that pays me money to play, then I sat down with my wife and had a conversation. Pre-medication I might have been able to do the first, but I probably would not have been able to do the second, and doing both in the same day, much less one right after the other, would have been a miracle. That’s the difference between mild depression and none. Mild depression I can go to the doctor, or cook dinner, or sit down and have a conversation, but not all on the same day. Without depression I can walk two miles to the store in the heat, have a long conversation with my wife, and cook all of dinner all on the same day without feeling like I was drowning, or some other overwhelming feeling.

Mrs. the Poet was like “Who are you and where did you put my husband?” over the difference. She has never known me from before I was depressed. I’m not sure but I think she likes the non-depressed person better. I know I do.

PSA, Opus

I just tweeted this but anyway

The anti-depressant works at keeping me from being depressed. What it doesn’t do is keep me awake, like at all. I have zero energy and can barely keep my eyes open, I’m yawning constantly and also keep doing that “wake up stretch” my body does when I’m fighting off sleep to get something done late at night. Except it is 1630 not 2330. I think my body is reacting to my efforts to put me back on a diurnal schedule rather than a nocturnal one. I keep getting up earlier each day but still end up staying awake until 0300 or 0400, even when I get up at 0800 or 0900 the day before. It’s just not fair, now that I’m not depressed I want to sleep like I am worse depressed than before I started taking the med…

Now I’m gonna force myself to take care of things around the house including myself and the cats. Write to you later.

PSA, Opus

Heck of a week, innit?

Personally this was a busy week for me what with buying new shoes on Monday, and fasting blood draws Wednesday and Thursday and a grocery run Thursday afternoon then that Nice terror attack. The deadliness of the truck just underscores what I have been saying about motor vehicles for years, they are WMD. I mean what else would you call something that killed more than 80 people in one pass? Very few of the victims were shot, most were crushed by the truck.

I posted a pic of my old shoes earlier where you could see the insides from the outside. So that was a required trip. I covered that trip with the post I put the picture in.

Wednesday I got up way too early (for me) and barely made a 10 AM appointment for a blood draw, and the (installation, application?) of an Automated Blood Pressure Monitor, and had breakfast at the Wendy’s (the 4 for $4 deal) across the street from the bus stop for the trip home. I had been up for about 5 hours when I finally had breakfast just before noon. I finally got home about 1420 exhausted and desperately thirsty, with my left arm being squeezed to death by the BP monitor every 15 minutes. That continued until 2200 when the frequency dropped to every 20 minutes until 0600. That made for a very restless sleep.

Thursday morning I was able to get up almost an hour later because the connections for DART worked much better even though the appointment was only a half hour later than Wednesday. I had another blood draw, peed in a cup, and had an EKG that took two patches of hair off my chest when the electrodes were removed. When I got out of the office I had a few minutes to catch the next bus, or I could have breakfast and wait an hour more to get the next bus. I decided that I could have a package of Poptarts when I got home, about 1330. Since I got up later than I did the day before I could survive until then without food. So I didn’t eat breakfast until after 1 PM, more than 12 hours since my last meal. This is about 2 hours longer than I normally go before breakfast. The bad thing is I was active for about 6 hours before breakfast when I’m normally much less active before breakfast so my reserves were pretty much depleted by the time I had something to eat. I took a sit-down rest with the kittens after eating and had enough energy to go shopping when that time came up around 1700.

Then yesterday I actually went out and visited with a friend from my RPG group while she went shopping for food for her lizards and snakes, mostly crickets and frozen rat embryos, yay! We mostly made small talk while this was going on. There will be a strong chance I will be having dinner elsewhere sometime next week.

Anyway something else that happened is I got a prescription for an anti-depressant while I was at the Lab Rat Keeper. I have been depressed longer than I have been known my wife, she literally won’t know what to do with me when I get the meds right and am not depressed. Hell I won’t know what to do with myself when I’m not depressed anymore. I have been depressed most of my life, about 45 out of 57 years. I literally do not remember what it feels like to not be depressed a little to a lot.

What caused my depression? Well, I am a military brat from the ’60s and ’70s and got moved frequently, so that I changed schools 7 times from 6th to 8th grades, and 5 times from K-5. This has been found to be as stressful as being in combat for an adult, especially frequent moves between 5th and 9th grades, when I was getting bounced around like a ping-pong ball in a paint shaker. The comparison to combat was because the original study was done by the organization that was responsible for moving me so much, the DoD. Well I can’t do anything about my past, so I’m going to do something about my future.

And I have rambled on quite enough now.

Billed @€0.02, Opus