unfinished business

I’ve been in a pretty deep depression for over a month now, and it’s not getting better. Stress at work has been increasing, and I’m not doing well. I had my scheduled visit with the p-doc yesterday, and he will have me try some Wellbutrin to help with the nearly constant depression. [Side note: I’m still glad I found this doctor, because he actually listens and interacts with me rather than just telling me the same “stay the course” bullshit.]

In the midst of this depression, I all of the sudden get the bright idea that I finally might like to go back to the old hometown and relive some memories, see things close up and personal that I left behind 30 years ago. Sure, that seems brilliant. Call it the Unfinished Business Tour.

I’m not exactly sure how this would work. Fly back to Sacramento, drive to Goldville and Treetown, and then what? Look at the ruins of the houses I used to live in, or get chased off by dogs or drug dealers? Take photos that Google street view can’t provide? Go stand by A-mom’s grave and reminisce about how fucked up life was for both of us? … Maybe. Maybe that is exactly what I need to do. It will be painful and depressing, and it will stir up lots of bad memories, but somehow I wonder if I need to do that one more time just to put some of that to rest for good.

The other thing I would like to do is just drive around in my part of the mountains, smell the pine trees, see the stars away from town, visit the old campground, take in the natural beauty of the Sierras one more time. Maybe I can visit a couple of friends, but maybe I don’t even want anyone to know I am in town. I’m torn, because if I visit one person, then others find out, it becomes a fucking circus, and I want to avoid that if possible.

My wife asked the same question, what would I do if I went. She also asked if it was something I needed to do by myself. I told her I wasn’t sure about either answer. She still has a brother and three nephews who live in the area. I think maybe if she wants to go, she can go, but if she wants to stay home it would also be okay.

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white mountains

These pictures were taken in 2004 in the White Mountains in California during one of my bipolar road trips. That trip was one of the best times of my life.

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Bristlecone Pines, some of the oldest living organisms on the planet.

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Twisted, gnarled branches

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Cactus and volcanic rock at 11,000 feet