It's amazing the things you think of at 5:30 AM. I'm up this early because of back pain and an ongoing invasion of fruit flies. For the pain, I'm taking 400 mg of Advil PM or Ibuprofen every six to twelve hours. For the fruit flies, I just cleaned my place some more and I'll have an exterminator Friday.
Being this time of night, I had one of those thoughts like, my life has been so terrible, why haven't I drowned myself in booze, pills or some other self medication? The problem, as I see it, is that I still have hope, but is that hope really rational?
As I look back at my life, I graduated high school in 1975, and then it took me TEN YEARS to get a degree in ENGLISH LITERATURE!!!!
I then spent the next thirty years trying to start a career that never really happened, despite some occasional fits and starts.
One of the best things that happened to me in this time was that, in 1994, I had a nervous break down consisting of a massive case of chronic depression, which eventually got me into something called the Skylight Center, a club house for people with mental disabilities, which got me into Special Tees, which worked, for a while.
Also, I got a great new psychotherapist, Ms Christine Murphy, who diagnosed me as autistic. I had a great time with her for about twenty five years. What a shame she couldn't last.
I'm now sixty two. I'm still looking to start a career when most people my age are looking to retire. I'm still as financially dependent on my mother as any child, even now, six years after her passing.
So, is my hope completely irrational? Wouldn't be more sensible to dive into a bottle of booze or pills and somehow kill myself?
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