Wow.
I had so much hope when I started this blog. It replaced another one because an idiot found it and thought posts on it were about them...and they weren't. I tried getting to my goals, but injury, pain and every god damn thing else got in the way. It's not the dream that dies last, it's the person who lost them all.
For five years I've been saying "I'm depressed." whenever I am asked what is wrong. 3 years ago when I got rear-ended at a stop light, the injuries really did a number on me. It took my fitness workouts away from me and I got fatter. So I tell doctors I am depressed about it. With this last wreck, EVERY one of the half a dozen doctors I am seeing has a 6 or longer page forms to fill out. On all of them I have marked "Yes" to the question asking if I am depressed. Nobody has said a thing. I don't need more pills, I need resolution to my never-ending pain and restoration of my wounded limbs. That doesn't seem likely. Who knows, I'll probably get hit by a busload of illegals brought in by the democrats for some promo event. Then when they search for all my on-line stuff they'll find this saying, "I don't feel good, I am depressed. Why won't anybody help me?" Note to news staff...highlight that last sentence.
