It�s Friday afternoon and I am getting ready for the weekend. I have a few work tasks to accomplish (I am currently waiting for a couple of back to back meetings) but the week is basically over and I have two full days of rest (no rest for the wicked) and relaxation (who can relax when your financial life hangs in the balance?) to look forward to. I have been stuck the past couple of weekends between my desire to be supportive and encouraging and my desire to get away from the black hole of depression that is now my Beau. That sounds worse than it is really. I sit on the event horizon so I really shouldn�t complain. He has the unfortunate task of job hunting, maintaining good humor and worrying about me and my mood. I pity him but I simply can not spend another weekend worrying away at that nut. I have to do something.

So here is the plan:

When I get home from work today I will go immediately to the fitness room and run. The goal is to run for 30 min. Then I will leisurely stretch out before heading home for a quick shower and a little dinner.

After dinner I will drag my despondent Beau to the seaside to witness the red tide, I for one, have never seen it and I have been told it can be quite spectacular. It was described to me as �better than fireworks� and best of all it is free.

I believe I will rise somewhat early on Saturday so as to enjoy the morning sun on my patio. I find great comfort in the sun warming my body; I ache to be more active.

I will be entertaining a friend in my new home (the first of my friends to visit) and I suspect we will chat away the afternoon.

Sunday I will suggest a picnic or other such outdoor activity (I do believe my Darling Beau is not getting enough sun adding to an already depressed state.)

I am truly attempting to be optimistic in the face of trying times which, I must tell you, is not my strong suit. I am at best a realist and at my worst quite an effective pessimist. The only times I have ever felt as if life was glorious and I could do anything was in the midst of mania which would explain my wistful thoughts of pre-medication times.

I have to tell you I don�t often find myself caught up in the celebrity of the moment debacles but this latest offering from Mr. Cruise hits just a little close to home. I am living breathing proof of the positive effects of proper medication for what his faith teaches is a non-existent condition. I am infuriated to be devalued by a man who follows the teaching of a hack SF writer who once boasted to his writer buddies that �religion is where the money is�. Hubbard cobbled together little bits from pre-existing religions and philosophies along with a little biofeedbackish crap and called it Dianetics. Where does Mr. Cruise get off telling me I don�t understand my disease and the history of its diagnosis and treatment? Does he believe I am some sort of drone who walked blindly into the �pseudoscience devil�s den� begging to be medicated? It is that king of mindset (the one that says �I�m not mentally ill I�m just nutrient deprived�) that allowed me to go ten years un-medicated and in agony while I firmly denied I was ill. Now I am finally able to function (not perfectly but at least reasonably) in life and this manic man smirks and attacks people using no more proof than the profession he attacks. Both Psychiatry and Scientology based their conclusions on anecdotal evidence. There is no proof on either side. It is as powerful an argument to me as the church who claims (in opposition to what the mental health community believes) that homosexuality can be �cured�. By that I mean poppycock! I will defend the right for anyone to have their opinion and express it. I would never suggest that he be curtailed in his freedom of speech, this is just me practicing my own freedom to say �nonsense Mr. Cruise�, and �May I suggest you consider a bit of medication yourself since being �clear� doesn�t seem to be controlling your manic episodes�. It takes one to know one you know.

I wish you Peace

~alison~

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