It's been a long time since I last posted here. Things are looking up in some ways, but I can't seem to get the monkey that is depression and self loathing off my back.

My wife and I moved into our own house back in December. Her grandmothers old place that she can't take care of anymore so we got it at a steal. Straight from her greandmother we pay just a small $200 a month to her. No mortgage or anything. Papers are already signed over and the hosue is in my wife's name, but we give her grandma that little bit just to make it all fair. The place is nice, but pretty old and needs some repairs that I am not capable of and we really can't afford. We'll see how this works out. And as suspected it keeps me up at night and worrying all day.

I've been worknig from home still. Love that aspect of this ****** job. I roll out of bed in my pajamas and make a cup of coffee and I'm already at work. Not bad. Now if only the job I do wasn't so damned stressful. And that's not he depression and all talking. This job is rough sometimes.

Seemed to find an answer to some of my loneliness when my wife is at work. We adopted two dogs and two cats from friends of hers. The dogs stay outside for the most part but seem to enjoy it. I spend at least an hour a day out playing with them in our 1/4 acre yard. It keeps me in the sun which I know helps with chemically balancing the body. The cats are inside only, but they have a screened in porch where they like to sun themselves. They're really sweet little things and love to just sit near one of us and press against our legs and look cute.

So all that and I'm still sitting in a pool of misery. I can't accept any of it without worrying about what's going to go wrong. Old a.c. unit for example. I'm just waiting for it to quit on us and we're out of luck getting a new one that'll cool down the whole house. Sagging floor that we already "fixed" once that seems to not want to stay fixed and we can't figure out why it keeps breaking down. Add the usual self hatred and miserable pain of aging and injuries and I'm a ball of internal violence.

I know that I've got it easier than a lot of folks on here and I feel "blessed" for that fact that I don't have it worse. And certainly feel for those with what I think are real problems. But somehow none of it matters when I self examine and find all the things I hate about this being inside my skin.