On the Way Out
Vol. 3
Part 5
The song Lonely People recorded by America (1974) hits home these days...the coronavirus has raised its ugly head for close to two years now...hard enough for the "lucky ones" who have someone beside them...not so great for those making it alone.
Hello! I know you are out there. It's tough these days with a coronavirus that just will not go away. Depending on what slant you fall toward with the media, it doesn't change the fact that loneliness still exists and has nothing to do with the time frame of a deadly virus.
I don't have all the answers. Far from it. In fact, I'm just an Average Joe at the ripe old age of 76 and for all intents and purposes probably on my way out. Hence: the theme of this blog, currently. Don't get me wrong I intend to hang around as long as I can. Hopefully, later then sooner (a little changing off the phrase, but you get the idea).
My advice: make the first move. Meet people and you will discover you are not alone. It's a tough world out there, maybe not for the lucky ones who seem to have it all under control, but there are many of us faced with an on-going battle to survive, to fit in, to put food on the table...to make it one day to the next.
If you can't get out amongst the English (still one of my favorite lines from the movie, Witness), well then, make a call or two, there are plenty of good people out there just waiting to offer some assistance...maybe a few minutes on the phone or they will refer you to someone that has similar backgrounds as you do. One thing could lead to another and you just might end the phone call with a smile on your face.
I wrote a book about five years ago called, The Loner, not a best seller, but the hero dealt with many obstacles in his life, granted many were self-created. Bottom line: there are answers to our plight in life. We may have to get up, if you can and find them, or, make a phone call. And I don't mean call The Ghostbusters. Another movie. You'll find, if you read my stuff, that I'm a movie buff.
I'll leave you with an excerpt from The Loner:
There’s an old ad on television which sticks in the back of my mind — on many occasion I’d take a break in the “booth” and I’d catch a glimpse of the thirty-second spot, while I continually sift through copy, familiarizing myself with my next story.
The television ad is relaying information to the viewer on where he or she could get a restful night’s sleep. It may work for some, but not in my case. At home in my bungalow, deep in the Catalina Foothills on the far north side of Tucson, I average maybe, four to five hours of sleep — something to do with old age, I guess.
On the road, you can divide in half the number of hours of shut-eye I can accumulate. It makes no difference whether I’m curled up in bed at a Hilton or a Motel 6, as I said before, the John Wayne flick will get me a few hours, but chances are it won’t be long before I’m awake, staring across the room at some picture on the wall — an image, of course, which has nothing to do with me or my life.
The Abilene Hilton was no exception.
Supposedly, lack of sleep is not something a “heart patient” should be dealing with. I’ve tried all sorts of medications — some of which have turned me into a zombie — kinda like the character in the old 2002 Al Pacino movie where he plays a homicide detective in Alaska. Nighttime never comes and there are not enough toothpicks in town to keep Detective Will Dormers’ eyelids from closing.
The title of the movie, Insomnia. I made the mistake of waking up at midnight in yet another hotel room in 2004 and hit the wrong button on the remote. I was charged $5.95 for the movie and spent two hours glued to a 28-inch screen as Pacino did his best to keep me wide awake.
It’s pretty much out in the open now. I guess I should fess up and let the rest of the world know I have a mental illness. Depression. I’ve dealt with it, without help, for most of my adult life, but over the last few years or so, I have asked for help. One positive note when it comes to my treatments is the fact I’m dating my clinical psychologist Harriet Mayweather.
Heck, it worked for Kevin Costner in Tin Cup. He seemed to come out alright with Renee Russo, but in my case, I’m taking it real slow and so is my shrink. She’s skating on thin ice and she knows it.
If you can tell by now, I love movies. The movies are my outlet and I can somehow enter into the mind of the character on the screen, and for the better part of two hours, live someone’s agony and forget my own.
One comforting fact about depression. I’m not alone.
I read in a publication somewhere that 121 million people around the world suffer from some kind of depression. So, that leaves me feeling comfy. What’s crazy about it all, eighty percent of the those people who get up every morning in a depressed state — don’t do anything about it.
That's it for today. Until we meet again...
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