Another day of IT

Today's OCD assault, the Obsessive part, is a lyric from the Johnny Cash song, Folsom Prison. The snippet that is haunting me now is:
" But I shot a man in Reno, Just to watch him die, When I hear that whistle blowin', I hang my head and cry. "

If this happens to you, OCD hauntings, well, you know what it is for me day after day. None of the meds help. Booze is no better. Its live or not on these days.

Do I sing along, pander to the music? Do I try to move past it or turn the TV up louder? Do I end up in Folsom or the state mental hospital? The lines are fine, the ones I can cross or not. Sanity > oblivion > insanity.

Does one ever return from insanity? Are there scars? Are your family and friends there for you during and after?

The anger bites deeply into my soul. Is there danger? Are others aware? I must live alone, just in case. Stay in my apartment. Not think. Not feel or else?

Cheer up, things could be worse? Oh, how? A bad depression cycle? A physiological anxiety episode? Yes. Things can and do get worse for us with IT. Grit your teeth. Grin and bear it all. Just say no? Bull shit. Its wait it out or else.

Now I know some of the pieces here are hard to read. Writing is how I cope with the depression syndrome.

Just this morning I dove in to updating my blogs. I do feel better. Maybe it was all the coffee, cigarettes or drugs. Maybe it due to my friend by the Gulf who suggested I blog. He persisted, stuck by me when I need him to. Thanks old man.

The fog of depression IS lifting a bit while the fog of reality cloaks my small town. It only fair I suppose. Share the pain? Its hard on our friends, on us.

I had a poster at one time. It was a sad clown. Is that an oxymoron? Anyway it read, " Share with me my sorrows, I will share with you my joy. " I would like to have that poster at times like these.

If you suffer this, this IT, I understand.