Sharing with a Penpal Some of My Struggle With Depression │ A Nutritional Triumvirate to Hold off Ageing

I'm relieved that I have yesterday behind me ─ I was feeling especially bleak (in terms of thoughts of suicide). I was underslept, and I was also feeling poorly overall due to the onset that morning of the condition that attends a migraine halo or aura.

I noticed this afternoon while bending over to exercise with my 43½-pound dumbbell that the vague pressure is still there of that headache that never developed.

I am fortunately not prey to migraine headaches, but I have trouble enough with the debilitating symptoms that reflect the aura. 

My younger brother apparently spent that night at the home of his girlfriend Bev, so I had the T.V. to myself. I opted to tune in an MMA programme (Glory).

The poster I saw for the event depicted two women ─ the main reason I watched the programme. But even though the entire thing ran over two hours in duration ─ this was commercial-free, too ─ there were no women fighters at all.

I dispensed with having a can of beer, and was into my bed probably by 11:15 p.m.

I'm nebulous now on just when it was that I rose in the dark a.m. to get to work on the post I am nearing completion at one of my six hosted websites, but I had first gotten up to turn on and log into my computer in order for it to have time to load and warm up.

So I had returned to bed while I waited; but even though I gave it around 25 minutes before rising again, I had not approached a return to sleep in that while.

Perhaps it was 4:00 a.m. when I got up the second time.

I stuck to the content assignment; and then when it was completed, I returned to bed. All I can remember is that it was after 9:00 a.m. by then.

The nap I enjoyed was every bit as beneficial as the bout of sleep that I had enjoyed overnight, and thus did much to lighten my outlook on today.

My brother was home when I emerged from my bedroom following the morning nap, for by the time I roused and got up it was well past 11:00 a.m.

He soon enough sought some rest in his bedroom, for he would be heading off in the early afternoon. The day was predominantly sunny, so I hope he had himself a good walk in a park somewhere before getting involved in his usual drinking.

I got in some sunning in the backyard, and while attired in just cutoffs. I slouched down low into a lawn- or deck-chair while facing directly into the Sun and ─ beginning at 2:11 p.m. ─ spent just over 40 minutes soaking up the rays.

A small cloud did obscure the Sun near the end of that session, but it cost me less than two minutes of direct sunshine. 

I must say again how good it feels to have my mental bleakness of yesterday behind me.

To illustrate somewhat, I am E-mail penpals with an American woman who is just a few years my junior ─ I think she's almost 65 years old.

We've corresponded by E-mail for possibly as many as eight years, and are probably as friendship-close as it's possible for people to become who have never met and will probably never meet.

Anyway, she has tried to encourage me to get myself a dog for companionship. Her latest effort came in a message I received at 7:34 a.m. on April 26 that included these two photos:

Here was her message:

G*****, good morning!  I am sending you a picture of my newly adopted Little Old Man (Lom) dog.  We suspect that either his owner was placed in a nursing home or died, and the owner's family through this baby out at a gas station in S*********.  The sad truth is that the elderly owner was probably not cared for any better than this poor old dog!  A young lady saw the dog being dumped, picked him up to keep him from getting run over, and took him to the shelter.  He is deaf, partially blind, has only three teeth, and he is pretty feeble, but he still has lots of love to give.  He cried and cried at the shelter they told me. I'm sure he was afraid. I adopted him and brought him home to love and care for.  I know he won't live a long life, but I will make sure his last chapter is filled with love and compassion. Eventually, if it becomes painful for him to continue to live, I will have to euthanize him.  I know that will be difficult, but, when that time comes, I will do what is best for him.  I call him Lom, and sometimes Buddy, it doesn't really matter, because, in spite of those huge ears, I'm pretty sure he can't hear.  You and I talked about this a while back, G*****.  I decided to put my heart where my mouth is.  Buddy (Lom) loves sitting in the sun, he scarfs his wet, soft food, and he wags his tail like a happy old man when he sees me.  Yes, it will break my heart when I have to say goodbye.  But, if it weren't for me, he would languish in the animal shelter, being afraid, and wondering what he had done to be thrown away like trash.  I will love him as long as I can, then I will help him go to the Rainbow Bridge.  You have love to give, G*****.  Don't let the fear of saying goodbye rob you of the joy of love.  The feeling you get when that dog wags it's tail because it has learned that you represent love is so amazing!  And so worth the trouble. 

Naturally ─ or unnaturally ─ I never responded back until yesterday at 12:48 p.m.:

Your little guy reminds me of a Gremlin from that old movie series, or maybe one the beings from the Star Wars universe.

It was selfless and kind of you to open your heart and home to the wee thing.

I think I've before mentioned the noisy brown hound that has been resident in the property just beyond our very small backyard's fence ─ it has tortured me since 2013 or maybe even 2012 with its baying, barking, and piercing whining. I have killed that thing in my imagination hundreds of times, and wished it misery beyond description for what it has done to me and my mental health over the years.

Until I one day live somewhere else, I am never going to feel kindly towards dogs in general ever again thanks to that animal and the noisy abuse it has inflicted upon me over these past years.

I have grown to hate the sound of a dog's bark.

I have actually wept because of how impotent I have been to escape that thing's noise. I've been the only one home ─ my brother had not yet retired, my wife worked, and my two stepsons were either at school or working. I was the only one who never had an escape outlet and had to endure the torment all the day through.

I doubt I mentioned this before, but I don't drive. So I'm grounded ─ there's no hopping into a car to take off to some remote park for some peace and quiet whenever I need it. Just miles and miles of traffic-choked streets, and seemingly endless homes and other buildings. There is no joy out there for a person who used to love walking back when the City of Surrey where I live was only a heavily undeveloped municipality in the 1950s when I was a boy, or the 1960s when I was a teen and living here then.

Anyway, I sent three complaints to the city, but it never meant much. We live in a cul-de-sac at the end of a short ***-A Street, whereas the dog-owners live on the main ***** Street. Our backyards are thus adjoining with just a high wooden fence separating the properties. Their property is actually gated at the front with a high metal fence. Visitors have to buzs someone from within the house to allow them entry onto the property.

The last time I complained to the city, I heard that a bylaw officer came and apparently sat in his car or van or whatever he drove ─ he had parked in our cul-de-sac and apparently just waited to listen for the barking.

I guess he judged there was no cause for complaint. Of course, maybe if I lived out there on the cul-de-sac instead of in this house much closer to the dog, and didn't have to endure its effective booming and piercing voice penetrating every part of the house, perhaps then I mightn't think the complaint was all that valid either.

So I gave up complaining.

I don't know if the bylaw officer actually even heard anything, for he or she wouldn't have sat there all day. The damned dog is a house dog, and is only kept outside when the owners go somewhere, or maybe they'll stick it outside during good weather because they just don't want it underfoot all the time.

Also, they'll stick it outside in the very, very early morning for 30 minutes to an hour or so when they first get up so that it can have time to relieve itself. Likewise for the evening hours before they probably go to bed.

The bylaw people don't work at or before daybreak, nor late into the evening and even after midnight.

The dog is pampered and cannot bear to be on its own and separated from its people ─ not even to enjoy a sunny day in its own backyard. It relentlessly barks, bays, and whines until eventually it is let back into the house, even if it has to do so for several hours.

This became very personal for me ─ I have been its helpless victim over the years because of being retired and home all day long almost every day.

Incidentally, the owners are Vietnamese or Filipino ─ before they got the stupid hound, they had an equally noisy black pit bull. Now we're going back to 2011 or even 2010. And for awhile ─ a year or so ─ they had both dogs, doubling up on my fun. But for some reason they finally got rid of the pit bull and kept the hound.

But I was working back then and not home all day long. I took leave of my job at the start of September 2010 until all my leave credits had burned off, and then I retired very early in April 2011.

Consequently, the last thing in the world I want here is a dog. It will take me a long, long time to get over the resentment I feel in general towards the animals because of that hound ─ I would need to be living in a somewhat isolated area, far from the sight and sound of other people's dogs, and be given time to heal from how I feel about them.

But quite apart from all of that, the home scene here is hardly idyllic. I don't know what's in store. Maybe the five of us living here will have more or less gone our separate ways in a year or two.

As well, my birthday is in October later this year; and as I recently alluded, I'm not even sure I'm going to be having the one after that in 2020.

So even if I was up to having a pet, there just isn't the long-term stability. 

Anyway, there you have my main excuses ─ as much as I'm willing to talk about, at any rate!

Her response back arrived this morning at 5:45 a.m.:

You have told me before about the neighbor dog that drives you mad.  But......why, G*****, do you think that you will not have another birthday after the one in October?  Are you ill?   

So I replied at 9:02 a.m. this morning just before I returned to bed for that nap:

Yesterday was an especially bad day for me, G***** ─ one of those very low ebbs of spirit in which I should not be online communicating or expressing myself.

I've been prone to thoughts of suicide and depression since my mid-teens, and some days find me feeling especially dark.

I had a better night's sleep last night, so that does help, of course.

Nevertheless, I've found myself over the past few years contemplating that my "three score and 10" is far enough ─ adding one or more digits to the overall total has no appeal if my life's situation is just going to be what it is.

But...we'll see!

She has since replied with this ─ it arrived at 4:14 p.m.:

I know it would be impossible to parlay a penpal into a reason to live.  But, honestly, G*****, I would miss you.  I guess it's weird in some ways, but I have told you before that I tell you things about myself that I don't share with my family and friends.  I have always felt like it is OK to just be honest with you.  I have never felt judged by you. You are a good listener.  You are highly intelligent, actually much smarter than I am.  I'm sorry you suffer from depression, G*****.  I'm always willing to listen if you just need to vent.  No judgment.  What about trying some medication?

I've not replied further, but I will educate her that I do not support the Pharmaceutical Industry. The only time I am likely to ever take a pharmaceutical would be to help bring my life to a close.

Booze is the only drug I fancy for mood enhancement.

Let's change topics, although the switch still involves the Pharmaceutical Industry.

There are some nutritional supplements that I do not take because ever since retiring and having my employment income come to an end back in 2010, I quickly learned that I was unable to afford them on a retirement pension.

One of those supplements is resveratrol.

The following article makes me feel that I should reconsider ─ the next time I am shopping, I will price the stuff and see if it's dropped in cost since then.  

However, the other supplement the article mentions ─ quercetin ─ is also pricey, I have just discovered. It was never one of the supplements I had on my wish list.

Anyway, here's the article ─ greater care could have been taken in crafting it, but try to overlook the running together of some of its words that you're likely going to notice:

NorthstarNutritionals.com

Resveratrol could be the secret to defying your age │ [BUSTED] Big Pharma caught BURYING the ‘Fountain of Youth’

I usually include turmeric (which contains curcumin) in at least one of my usual two daily meals ─ and so it might just be worthwhile giving resveratrol and quercetin a look.

I included an Amazon U.S. search at the top of this post for "resveratrol," and a different search for "quercetin" at the bottom of the post. However, I would have to order anything I wanted to buy online through Amazon Canada, since I am Canadian and have no desire to be fleeced in the unavoidable inflationary currency exchange.

After all, a Canadian dollar is every bit as valuable to a Canadian as is an American dollar to an American.

And with that said, I am going to bring this post to a close. I hope to get out yet to do a little evening shopping, and I would need to get away before my younger brother is back home.

But I need some rest first ─ I have to walk everywhere that I go, and I don't quite have the spunk at the moment.