Didn't realize it, but I shut down after Brian died. My physician, out of the blue, asked if I might be depressed. I recall getting a little potty mouth with him with something like "Jesus who the fuck wouldn't be going thru what I'm going thru"
Anyhow, without asking, he offered an Rx for antidepressant and I took it for a couple years. Up till that, it was the worst I'd been thru, but the progression up to it had been over 3 years or so, not one big jolt (other than Brian) and I was just isolating myself while maintaining that old cliché: a façade of normalcy.
Hellish time . . .
Anyhow, without asking, he offered an Rx for antidepressant and I took it for a couple years. Up till that, it was the worst I'd been thru, but the progression up to it had been over 3 years or so, not one big jolt (other than Brian) and I was just isolating myself while maintaining that old cliché: a façade of normalcy.
Hellish time . . .
The granting of a pardon is an imputation of guilt, and the acceptance a confession of it.
