Bitter pain of wrenching loss

7:08am, my apartment in Chandler, Arizona, Saturday morning, December 18, 2021. The road curved and flattened before undulating down. Was this the right path? Had I missed a turn? It seemed familiar, yet so much time had passed I couldn’t be sure. Then instantly, as if right on cue, the meadow opened before me. Sunlight washed over tall yellow flowers, the jagged mountains rose to meet the clouds and there, off in the distance, was the tiny house we called home. Bitter pain of wrenching loss, ridiculous hope for an impossible reunion and the always tortuous memories surrounded me. And in that moment I could not help but ask the question I knew would never be answered, “How did something so beautiful ever end?”

Monday morning

5:42am you went for a walk this morning. A little bit later than usual. You got a phone call on your work phone at 2:19am. It was the triage nurse. She went to see a patient who was complaining of discomfort. The nurse could not get a hold of the on call doctor to obtain orders for stronger pain medication. She had tried two other doctors. No one had called her back. It had only been twenty minutes. She wanted to leave the community. She explained there was not much she could do without a doctors order. I told her that was fine and to please explain the situation to the staff and to assure them a nurse would follow up later in the morning. I doubt she told them. She is not a very good nurse. She only does the bare minimum and complains the whole time. The doctor is a good doctor but only takes call to make the monthly paycheck. He has too many other interests to effectively take call. This whole site is filled with people just doing the bare minimum, getting by, here for the money. I am ashamed I am the director. Not because I created the situation but because I have failed to change it.

Depression from avoidance

My brother and my dad lie in graves side by side in the cemetery in Evanston Wyoming. My dad died at the age of 65. My brother, 46. Both had health problems. Both suffered from depression. I know that because I am constantly susceptible to depression myself. The dark times of feeling alone no matter how many people are around me or love me. Sometimes I feel what I do in life is meaningless. Usually the feeling subsides before I get too despondent.
One source of my depression is the desire to try and escape the pressure of life. I tried for years to eradicate, or at least avoid, conflict or confrontation. I even considered that the goal of a life well lived. I searched for a place to live where I felt I was content. I looked for a job where I felt valued without being stressed. I wanted to do my job, travel home and safely envelope myself in my preferred distractions, hidden far enough away that I did have to deal with situations that were negative. But the more I stripped my life of risk, conflict or stress the more meaningless I felt. I ended up more depressed because I lacked purpose.
Stress and conflict are painful parts of existence, but they are necessary parts. Just like too much of them can do harm, too little can hurt as well.