Eat, Blog, and Be Merry - Page 3

But — aside from the fact that my hypomania has taken a hike — there are things that worry me. I worry about the fact that BG and I smoke so much. I worry about the fact that since I started blogging, I'm not eating right or exercising, and that BG and I don't spend time doing as many things together. We used to go for outings and long walks. Now BG goes alone while I stay home worshipping my computer screen. BG is seven years older than me, and has his own medical issues, including HIV, which he contracted years ago when he used to share needles. He was never a full time user or genuine addict, but he did like to indulge and at the time no one knew about the virus. He never cheated or stole for his habit, and continued to work and just use on the odd weekend. So although, knock wood, he is doing really well with the meds he's on, he always tells me that he has a three-month reprieve, because he gets his T-cells and viral load tested every 90 days. His viral load is undetectable and his T-cells are sky high, which is very good. But still, this is something he has to contend with.

My parents both died at a young age from heart disease. They smoked, they ate the wrong foods, and they didn't exercise. Guess who's following in their footsteps? I'm 48, and my father only lived to see 50, my mother 57 (and she died before my dad).

At the same time, things seem to be falling apart so completely in the world that if I were of a certain bent, I would believe that the Apocalypse was nigh. Corruption, riots, war, natural disasters, new viral strains, terrorism, scandal, abuse of power, deception, and on and on.

Like some folks, BG tries to avoid watching the news. I, on the other hand, find myself drawn to it all like a car wreck. I can't turn away from the horrors, awful as they are to behold.

So in the midst of all this mess, I've come to some realizations:

The world as we know it might come to an end at any time.

I have no guarantees that I won't have another horrifying bout of major depression.

BG and I will not live forever, and unless we have a suicide pact or we get nuked, we will probably not die at the same time, leaving one of us bereft.

Article Author: Elvira Black

Elvira Black is a “retired” New York writer blogging for her own amusement here on BC. Her passions are politics, the arts, the weird things we do, and New York City.

Visit Elvira Black's author page — Elvira Black's Blog