melog-20110313.log

If you've read my previous post, you'll know that exercise probably came very difficult for me this past week.

I did get some exercise in. I worked out Sunday, Thursday, and Friday. I didn't eat well, though. A lot of "stress" eating happened. I didn't want to give up. Making it to week ten is an achievement of which I'm personally proud.

But, overall, I think I did really well considering what I was up against.

I think week 11 will start off much better. I need to get it together and get back on track.

These are the moments that cause me to stop exercising. Here is where I really need to prove that I can stay the course. I gotta remember-- the journey IS the destination.

After 12 weeks of exercise, I'll evaluate where I've come from and where I am. Then, I'll keep plugging along.

melog-20110312.log

My dear wife had to go to the hospital at the beginning of this week. Her depression went too deep and her anxiety levels too high.

She stayed under doctor's care for five days. She's home now taking back her rightful place on the living room couch. She seems like herself again, yet somehow different.

Taking her to the emergency room was difficult; but, I had to hold it together for all of us.

But hours later-- when I finally got alone, I almost vomited from the nervousness I felt-- knowing that my wife barely had the presence of mind to refrain from committing suicide.

I learned a lot that day. I learned that I'm strong, but not that strong. I learned that I'm a really good dad. But, I'm not a very good single dad. The kids may favor my parenting style over their mom's, but they will come unglued if they go too long without my wife's mothering.

I learned that I love my wife-- more than I could ever have realized or articulated before she checked into the hospital. She completes our family and we need her even though we survived while she was away for nearly a week in the hospital.

She did not hurt herself, but she visited a counselor at my suggestion. She confessed to her counselor that she didn't think she could make it much longer and already had a plan in place to end her life.

I never saw so much anguish on a person's face before with my own two eyes and in the flesh. How unnerving it is to see such a look upon the face of your spouse!

I dreaded the thought of planning her funeral and trying to explain to the family what all went wrong in her life-- explaining to the kids why momma won't be coming home any more.

I simply felt sick; I'm surprised that I didn't crack.

And worse, I wondered if maybe taking her to the hospital was only like giving a terminally ill person painful treatments that will never truly bring healing. I didn't want to participate in prolonging her suffering if suicide was inevitable because of her mental anguish.

But, as many loved ones respond-- I just couldn't let her go that easily and I took her to the hospital.

I said above that she's herself again, but somehow different. She's different in that she seems like she's learned something new about herself. She's had a wealth of experiences during her five days of treatment. She has a new plan for living now. A plan to live and fight back against her depression and anxiety.

And I support her every step of the way.

A good friend of mine pointed out at the beginning of the week that we made the right decision by not giving in and going to the hospital. I can see that now; She was absolutely correct.

Perhaps euthanasia has a place in this world, but not when there is legitimate hope for recovery from whatever diseases ail you.

If you or a loved one is dealing with depression, take it very, very seriously; Get help. If you're already managing depression, don't give up. Explore. You just may find the new life you're looking for while traveling down the long road of treatment and recovery.

melog-20110303.log

this post may seem like a scattered flight of ideas, but i'm sort of in a hurry.

i cooked tonight, but no one ate. not even my son-- and he's always hungry.

see why i hardly bother with cooking?

my wife had a string of bad events happen to her today. they would probably seem insignificant to someone else (at least some of them, at least one of these events is actually fairly serious), but for her, they are the end of the world and i see her sinking into this dark place really fast. i hope she'll be ok and pull through.

i'm a bit worried. not about the events that happened. i think they will actually be ok in time. but, i'm worried more about my wife not standing up under the stress of it all. i'm trying to hold her up, but it's hard to brace up a structure that is crumbling in your hands.

sometimes i feel like a beast of burden, pulling the load of everyone else around me up a hill. in my cart, my wife and children are there. my mother and my brother in prison. my mother-in-law and her struggles with her own 98 year old mother.

i don't worry so much about the fact that I'm carrying other people's load. i worry that one day, the hitch to the cart will break and roll away from me. or, i'll give out and the cart will carry the load downhill-- me along with it.

in other news today, i did squats (without weights) and dead lifts (without weights-- i know, not much of a dead lift without weights, huh?) and calf raises. i have not been doing this when i worked out my lower body. i'm phasing this in. i. am. sore. i didn't do any cardio because my legs hurt too damned much.

but, after i recover, i'll try to keep the new addition to my routine going. then, i'll gradually add weights into the routine-- in time.

wow. that's all the good news i have for tonight.

melog-20110227.log

As far as exercise goes, I've started week nine. I had trouble putting my best effort into my cardio today because of personal matters that I will express below. I feel like I'm reaching a mile stone, nonetheless, and I'm proud of myself for keeping up.

I aggravated a muscle in my back which I had pulled a few years ago. Seems like an injured muscle in the back never gets 100% better. Not sure what's going on with that, but I hear that from many people who have injured their backs in the past.

So, when I do my weight lifting in the morning, I'll have to skip my back exercises. The pain is not excruciating like when I first pulled the muscle. But the pain is just enough to let me know I had better take it easy.

My distraction from my exercising today is due to a conversation I had with my wife before I went to work-out. She took our daughter to visit an old daycare playmate of hers. Their family is quite affluent and quite frankly, make us look like po' folk. But not only that, they seem to have all their ducks in a row, so to speak, and their life of success, money, and world travel from now until retirement already seems planned out and achievable.

So my wife asks me if we even have plans for the next two years.

I do . . . but they are not as vast or ambitious. Nor will my plans likely satisfy her query. So, I evaded the question a bit.

She also expressed tons of self doubt and voiced that she is now feeling depressed.

(no-- real depression. not the "play" stuff)

So, I was distracted when I went to exercise. The work-out did clear my mind a bit, but at the same time, the effort I try to put into my cardio was certainly diminished.

I contemplated what makes someone happy. Is there a difference between happiness and contentment? Why do some people seem happy in nearly any circumstance or in the face of any adversity, and others crumble when the appear that all is well for them.

Well, some of the answer lies in biology and personal history. A person who has been abused for any length of time can become biologically hard-wired for sadness and depression. That is partly why inflicting trauma on someone is such a horrendous act. More harm is done than what occurs in the act itself, but a residual damage is constantly inflicted long after the traumatic event has physically ceased.

Such a crime, these things are. And such a shame that too often, the offenders go unpunished while the victim is left without any sense of vindication whatsoever.


I am tempted to say that happiness alludes so many people because they simply have the wrong perspective. Contentment comes to those who are happy about life, not necessarily happy about the events in one's life.

While that thought may have a kernel of truth, such a statement is much too simplistic.

I feel inadequate when my wife becomes depressed. But, after nine years of parenthood and 13 years of marriage I have learned that you cannot make other people truly happy. You can support them, encourage them, and make them feel better. You can help them over hurdles, help them change their lives, and be a shoulder to cry upon during dark times. And these are noble things for sure.

But to grant happiness is not a power or possession that anyone has to give. One must find his or her own way to happiness. And I fear, too many look in all the wrong places for it.

melog-20110223.log.0

I made sure I did my weight lifting today. I didn't want to do it, but I made myself. I took my daughter to soccer practice and spent time with my son while she was with her team. Any cardio that I missed, was made up for today running around with my son.

He falls a lot when he plays soccer. Tonight, I found out why: he tries to trip his opponent when he can't get the ball.

I learned the hard way when he sent me straight into the dirt.

Glad I've been active lately, or that fall would have resulted in some serious injury for me.

Allergies are here; My nose is running like a fucking faucet.

Allergy medication?

What's that?

melog-20110223.log

Well, I didn't get to work-out today. I woke up late, but figured I'd have time this evening.

Nope. I had to work some overtime. Didn't get home until after 23:00.

Looks like I'll have to do double-duty later this week.

I was just telling my friend how I was still sticking with it, too.

It just goes to show that you have to take care of first things, first.

melog-20110217.log

This seventh week has been a test of my resolve. I've often felt a strong desire to skip working out. But, I have hung in there this week and I stuck to my routine. Looking back, I'm proud of myself for sticking to the plan.

Now, I can fit into pair of jeans that I couldn't get past my thighs. I like that. It's almost like getting a new pair of jeans for free.

Well, better hit the sack-- gotta get up and lift weights in the morning before getting the kids ready for school.