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Thread: What to do with grief?

  1. #76
    SShock2.com
    Member

    Registered: Apr 2001
    Location: The land of ever sideways rain
    I should not post tonight, because I'm drunk. Why am I drunk? Because tonight it's exactly one year since she died. 4:26 am. We were all there. Her children and I, and her granddaughter. I watched her draw her last breath while gently stroking her forehead and holding her hand. I'm the one who called it, 4:26. I was counting her breaths until they stopped.

    For a year, I've been too terrified to open the box of ashes I got after the cremation. I didn't know what to expect. I've never done this before. But tonight seemed like a good time. In a couple of weeks, we'll finally have the ceremony of scattering the ashes that we should have had a year ago. I did not intend tonight to be a big deal, but as the clock went past midnight, closer and closer to the time, I knew I could not possibly go to sleep. I opened her favourite whisky, Glenmorangie. After some weepy personal moments with old photographs, I opened the box. It was surprisingly pedestrian. A cardboard box. Inside, a paper bag, closed with tape and staples. It seemed... irreverent. Inappropriate. Like they were trying to tell us we should have paid for a more expensive service. Fuckers. I opened it slowly with my Swiss army knife, just to make sure I remember this moment. Inside was the ashes. I got out a small spoon, scooped up a tiny bit of ash, and poured it into a small pendant, specifically designed to hold a small amount of ashes. Just in case I at some point will have to leave Scotland, I will at least have a small part of her with me. I sealed up the bag and box as before.

    I don't want to sound like a whiny miserable bastard, but I will anyway. She was the love of my life. I gave up everything for her. My home, my country, my culture, my language. I moved over a thousand miles to live happily ever after with her. Fuck cancer.

    I don't know what the future holds, but right now it seems to involve a lot of sideways rain, misery and probably another 12 years of lonely whiny crap. I'll try to spare you from the worst of it.

    On the upside, I've seen the brightest side of love, and how it can completely change your life. I've seen all the lovely shiny wonderful sides of it. I just miss it now. I miss her. I will always miss her. But I'm happy that I got to see it.

    I do feel extra sad about the unnecessary kick in the balls. She died on her granddaughter's birthday. Which is today. Which makes it difficult to celebrate. The most wonderful and amazing person on earth died a slow an painful death, on the birthday of her granddaughter. Fuck you, god.

  2. #77
    Member
    Registered: Feb 2001
    Location: Somewhere
    You cant move back home again? And you dont sound like a whiny bastard, you just sound miserable and sad.

  3. #78
    SShock2.com
    Member

    Registered: Apr 2001
    Location: The land of ever sideways rain
    I probably could, if I had half a brain, which I don't. I've had CFS for almost 20 years now, and my wife was the one doing the thinking for me. I could never have moved to Scotland without her. I can't imagine how I can possibly move back to Sweden now, when there are NO functional brains in the near vicinity. My stepkids do their best, but they have their own lives to deal with.

  4. #79
    Member
    Registered: Jun 2010
    Location: A Former Forest
    Gray, hold on man. Hold on. You have love to give and some of that love you need to direct toward yourself. Live for her and yourself. Dude, I am a guy 3000 + miles away and I care if you are doing OK. If I were were you, I’d go to the Azores. Sun, fun, and nice people. Get away from the grey skies. Celebrate her life in living yours to the fullest. I think she would would like that. Appreciate the little things that make you happy. They are the important things. Don’t give up hope. Please. Don’t give up. You loved so much. It will come back to you. Find it and rejoice. May peace be with you.

  5. #80
    SShock2.com
    Member

    Registered: Apr 2001
    Location: The land of ever sideways rain

    Let's talk about love, love, love

    I know I often sound like a miserable whiny bastard. I know. I'm sorry. But, despite my grumpy nature and all the misery I've been through, I want to post something positive.

    Love.

    It is greater to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all. No? Yes? The jury is still out on that one. I know both sides pretty well. I'll explain.

    I've mentioned many of these things before, but I've not elaborated. I'm a pretty old man by now. I've been through a lot of things. I've had a few failed relationships. I've also known what it's like to be alone, for years and years. And years. Many years. What I did not expect was to ever find true love. I didn't. It found me. It dragged me kicking and screaming into it, trying to fend it off as best I could. I failed. Dammit.

    I'm a very difficult, generally unlikeable person. I have very strong opinions that clash with most other people. Everything you like, I probably hate. I'm grumpy and miserable. Very leftist, egalitarian, anti-capitalism, anti-waste, anti-fashion, anti-stupidity, anti-racist, pro-eco, pro-minimalism, pro-equality. I hate all the music you like, and all the shit you like to watch. I'd rather punch myself in the face than to ever hear about some Kardashian idiot or their idiot fans. Twitter is a black hole of moronosity. I hate advertising in all its forms for a very long list of reasons. You know, I'm one of those annoying bastards that tend to smoke weed, grow dreads and knit their own sandals, except I've never smoked anything nor knitted, and I shave my head. I despise almost everything of almost everything. This is my personality, I can't change it. I'm not a happy fun guy. But I am full of love. Even towards the clueless idiots. I'm polite and kind, and keep my stupid opinions to myself, most of the time.

    Added to which, I'm quite ill. I've had CFS for almost 20 years now. It severely limits what I can do, physically and intellectually. It's still getting slowly worse over time. I used to be pretty strong, now I'm weak as a kitten. I used to be pretty clever, now I'm dumber than Forrest Gump. This is why I had to stop moderating TTLG. I'm almost stupid enough to enjoy Adam Sandler movies, but even that is still beneath me. With my progression, perhaps in a few years I'll think he's awesomely clever.

    For many years, I've used all of the above as a shield to push people away. I'm not part of society anymore, I just live next to it. I can't deal with it. You go on with your happy little lives, and I'll stay over here on my side, ignoring you completely, smiling politely. I'll sit quietly on my side and curse under my breath about all the stupid shit you happy people do. I'll never be one of you.

    But life has a way of fucking with you. It's not fate. It's not divine intervention. It's not karma. It's not a part of god's great plan(*). All of those things are just names you put to describe an event after it happened to try to make sense of it in your own head. It's just random chance.

    Since I'm quite ill, I have lots of time to waste, just waiting to feel slightly better so that I can deal with all the stuff that needs to be dealt with. One way to waste lots of time is video games. That's why I picked World of Warcraft. I specifically chose it since it seemed like a massive waste of time. I couldn't do another 1000 runs of System Shock 2, I had become too stupid to use ShockEd anymore, and I could not be arsed to play anything challenging or stressful, so I chose Warcraft. On purpose. I did my research, and it seemed like such a massive timesink, which is exactly what I wanted, after trying half a dozen less interesing RPGs or MMORPGs.

    On week two, I had just figured out how to do fishing. I was standing at Lake Al'Ameth in Teldrassil, trying to catch fish to feed my nightsaber cat, when some night elf woman swam up to me, like Ursula Andress. She asked what I was doing, and I was, in my most polite language trying to tell her to please kindly piss off and leave me alone. But she kept asking questions. I had only been on the game for a couple of weeks, but I've learned a thing or two, so I tried to tell her what little I knew. She kept pissing me off with follow-up questions, so I decided to show her how to do things, and ran her down to Darnassus, where the fishing trainer was. Apparently this was not sufficient. She needed help with some quest or other, so we teamed up for that. Damn annoyance.

    This kept happening, for weeks. We became friends, despite my strongest protests. We joined the same guild. Then we left it to make our own guild. She was quite keen on travelling, she'd been to loads of countries, and asked if she could come visit me for her next trip to Europe. I said sure, as long as you understand it's as friends only, and nothing else. She agreed. Well, we fucked that up on day one by falling in love. Whisky probably helped.

    Over the next couple of years, she'd visit me 2-3 times a year, a week or two at a time, and I'd visit her in Scotland for about 2-3 months at a time, spending most of 2012 over there, if not all. At one point, probably in the winter of 2011 while she was over in Sweden, she asked me to marry her. I was stumped. At this point I was very much in love with her. I loved her. But it was crazy to think that I could give up everything I know and move to some rainy shithole a thousand miles away, no? Well, perhaps, but I decided to do it anyway. I accepted. Probably the best decision I ever made in my entire life.

    In 2013 we got married. I wore her father's kilt. We were both quite old at this point, I was over 40 and this was her second marriage, so it was a pretty cheap event. Maybe 40-50 people, mostly Scottish, but my parents and brother and his family came over from Sweden. It was the happiest day of my life. Or so I thought. Little did I know. We went back to Sweden to empty my flat, and get rid of all of my stuff. It was like a purge of all of my life up to this point. What little I kept could fit into a few boxes, some of which I could take with me to Scotland, but I essentially left all of my previous life behind. All 42 years of it. A bit sad when you're that age and your whole life can fit into a few boxes, but, with my mind being non-materialistic, also somewhat of a relief.

    Turned out, my wife was a lot more clever than I had realised. Every day, she kept surprising me by doing new clever things, saying clever things, absorbing all the music and movies I liked, falling in love with some of it, then pimping her stuff to me which, some of it, I also loved. Every day, I fell more and more in love with her. Every day was happier than the preceding one. I forgot about that nagging feeling about having made a huge massive mistake of giving up everything in my life to be here, because being here was so wonderful, and she was so wonderful, clever, smart and beautiful in every way. Many times did I have to reevaluate what the happiest day of my life was. So many things happened. Average, boring, pedestrian, non-dramatic yet wonderful things. Every day I loved her more, every day I was happier. It was like staring directly into a big warm sun, just radiating happiness and joy towards you. It was like our minds were directly connected, no barriers, just pure love flowing between us in every moment of being near each other. I'm sure this is why poetry was invented, because I can't describe with words just how happy I was. I had found the one. The impossible one. The one that couldn't possibly exist or be more perfect for me. And what's more, she wanted ME! On purpose! Despite all the stupid shit I told her. I made her happy. That made me happy. And that made her happy.

    I am very much aware how much this sounds like a lame screenplay writer's wet dream. The unlovable idiot is magically found by some amazing woman that turns him into a better person. I understand all that. I hate those cliches. Except when it happened to me, I was already old fat and ugly, having lived alone for 12 years. She had two grown children and was not played by Jennifer Aniston, and I was not played by Seth Rogen. Thank fuck for that. If I ever get that stupid, please punch me in the face.

    Then cancer.

    But this isn't about that. I've told that story before, this is about joy, and happiness. I want to emphasise in the strongest words I can possibly find that she was an awesome person, and love just flowed out of her. She was amazing. She made me the happiest man on the planet. She showed me true, pure love. All of my sarcasm and bitterness melted away. I almost very nearly became a nice person. Almost. She was too good for me. She might not have been perfect, but she was perfect for me. Not even if I made things up could I ever have thought of someone THAT clever and wonderful. We were a perfect match. She was the only person who really GOT me, and my stupid thinking. And I got her. It was an amazing stroke of luck that we even met, but here I am now. In some rainy faraway foreign country with her ashes in a box.

    So, there is a lot of pain and anguish of living alone, rejected by society. I know this part very well. There is a lot of joy from love, but the pain when it ends is much, MUCH stronger than the pain from being alone. I have seen both sides. I have seen the detachment you can find in living alone, separating yourself from the world. This can be quite nice, but empty and hollow. It may not be easy to find love, especially it you deliberately try to hide from it, but from what I learned... Maybe Shakespear did have a point. It is greater to have loved and lost. It may be very painful, but it makes you a better person, and you'll have some wonderful memories.





    (*) If I'm wrong, and there is a god, and this IS a part of his great big clever plan, he's a fucking bastard that feeds on the suffering of innocent people, and in which case he shouldn't be believed in or obeyed in any way, the fucker. Bloody snuff movie weirdo freak.
    Boing. Peng. Boom-Tschak. Peng.

    System Shock 2 Walkthrough

  6. #81
    Member
    Registered: Jun 2010
    Location: A Former Forest
    I still like you and want you to be alive and well. There is a God and he is a nasty dude who is testing you. You are passing, but miserable in the process. Let it go somewhat and try your best to enjoy the little things. That is the only way I get by. If I did not, I would have taken a dirt nap long ago. Your love for her is strong. Let her love for you sustain you. It is all about a matter of perspective. Hope. It’s all we have. It is real. If a dude 1/2 the way across the Earth cares enough to write this to you, then there is hope. Peace be with you brother, if I may call you that. Go out and do something for someone else and try to keep out of your head. I find dwelling within is a nightmare. Occupy your time with love for others and you will find peace.

  7. #82
    SShock2.com
    Member

    Registered: Apr 2001
    Location: The land of ever sideways rain
    Thank you. Your words mean a lot to me.

    I want to expand on the love theme. I know, I'm known for being a sarcastic grumpy asshole, but there is love in my heart. It was always there, but she brought it out. All of those things I did not have words for, she found. When I say she changed me, I don't mean that casually. I mean, in a life changing way. Like a beam of pure love shot straight into my face. It was like staring into pure sunlight. I was blinded. I was awestruck. I have now seen the true face of pure love. I feel very fortunate. If I can only hold on to this memory, I'll be annoyingly happy for the rest of my life.

    Next time I whine about pointless crap in some other thread, please remind me of this. Just say "sunshine", and I'll shut up and dream away.

  8. #83
    Member
    Registered: Feb 2002
    Location: In the flesh.
    Actually Gray, you don't sound that different from me with the exception I DO smoke pot on occasion and also am reasonably gregarious on most occasions. I don't find you unlikable. Despising most everything seems like a reasonable response to today's world. Hell, I had ten more years of the good old days so I can confirm it's more than reasonable. BTW I recommend at least trying some weed before you shuffle off this mortal coil. You can't tell me Shakespeare wouldn't have burned one henceforth and forsooth once upon a fortnight or two. It might even help you sleep.

    Maybe it is all random chance but it sure doesn't feel like it. It feels like wonderful happenstance. Kismet when you meet the one. If there is any magic in life at all it is that. So if your story sounds like a magic trick then it's just walking like a duck. She sounds like she carried a pocket full of magic just in case of doubters. You know you wouldn't have missed knowing her for anything and you aren't fooling any of us. That kind of magic is worth even this kind of pain. It just doesn't feel like it right now. Your story of her is a wonderful tribute and lets us know exactly how worth it love is.

    Okay the CFS thing sucks ass at helping you climb out of this hole. Still gotta fight it. I gotta go with bjack on the helping others thing too. It keeps me from feeling like such a worthless prick. It even puts enough back in the bank to go full on worthless prick every now and then. Overall it may be best to avoid it but the words fuck it were made for just such occasions. Don't be too hard on yourself. Give yourself slack. There was someone who thought you deserved it and I have to agree. To hold a hand to the very end, aside from being your privilege, is also the best gift of devotion anyone could ever give.

    I hope the best for you, dude. That adds up to exactly jack shit and change but I hope it anyway.

  9. #84
    Member
    Registered: Feb 2001
    Location: Somewhere
    Also, are you sure its CFS? After 20 years I guess you must have had it diagnosed, but I suffer from a whole friendly club of auto-immune conditions, and a lot of my symptoms could well fit into the CFS category. There are drugs which can actually help, though they can be costly without some kind of medicare.

  10. #85
    SShock2.com
    Member

    Registered: Apr 2001
    Location: The land of ever sideways rain
    CFS is not a proper diagnosis, it's just an umbrella term to gather up a vast range of symptoms, of which I have all of them (took me a while to develop muscle pain, but I have that now as well), so eventually my doctors figured it would be the most likely thing, so they settled on it. Better to have a name for something than to continuously claim I was perfectly fine and just making it up. If I was making it up I wouldn't have kept arguing for 10 years. No known cure, because it's not the one thing. I find it quite likely to have been triggered by an auto-immune reaction I had when I was 12, but I have no proof of that, just a very vague hypothesis. It didn't kick in until I was in my late 20s, but it feels now like it did when I was 12, except stronger. But that's no proof either. The only thing I can say for sure is how very limited a life I can have now.

    So yes, doctors gave up on me because they didn't know what else to do. By then, I was so used to fighting to prove I was actually ill, and I just accepted CFS as the most likely thing. Nothing has changed in the last 12 years, except I'm still getting slowly worse, like I have been for 20 years. I wouldn't know where to go or how to get tested now, since I'm in a foreign country.

  11. #86
    Member
    Registered: Aug 2004
    I had a friend diagnosed with CFS for a couple decades. One doctor eventually found a serious problem with a random organ (I don't remember which) and she's much better (albeit still rather south of "well") now. ...Wish I could turn that anecdote into usable advice, lol.

  12. #87
    SShock2.com
    Member

    Registered: Apr 2001
    Location: The land of ever sideways rain
    I'd much appreciate it if you could bother to ask her what the problem was. It might not be the same for me, but at least that'd be something to exclude.

  13. #88
    SShock2.com
    Member

    Registered: Apr 2001
    Location: The land of ever sideways rain
    Tomorrow is the day. The scattering of the ashes. Finally, after a year of waiting, perhaps a bit of closure. I wrote a few words to say tomorrow, but half of it is in Swedish, so quite pointless to post here. The rest is just stolen from songs she liked. Her daughter planned the event, it will be all sorts of crap I could not care any less about. Releasing some doves. Poetry. Bible quotes. Fine. I understand that my wife was not mine alone, she was also a mother, sister, cousin, friend. She was very much loved. Everybody who ever met her loved her, she was amazing. Everybody should have their say. But when it's my time, I think you'd struggle to find five people to say "well, he wasn't ALWAYS a complete bastard. Sometimes he wasn't even almost very grumpy." With her, the words will be much kinder.

    Don't get me wrong, I love my stepdaughter, we're just very different people with very different views on the world. She values things I think are quite pointless. I appreciate everything she's done. It is very important to her to get this right, because she loved her mother. And her mother loved her. I'm sure tomorrow with go smoothly.

  14. #89
    Member
    Registered: Feb 2002
    Location: In the flesh.
    The structure of ceremony is a comfort somehow. Maybe it's having a concrete thing to do when there is nothing you can really do. My favorite (if you can have one) part of a funeral is swapping stories of the deceased. It's finding another facet of someone you love. Folks always underestimate their own facets. A hundred different people see a hundred different facets. We think the little things we do are of no import but they are remembered. Everything we are is disseminated among everyone we know and it lives on in them.

    My favorite doctor was a grump. I never knew anyone who didn't like him. You think he knew but maybe he didn't. It wouldn't have changed him either way. That too was part of his charm.

  15. #90
    SShock2.com
    Member

    Registered: Apr 2001
    Location: The land of ever sideways rain

    It's done.

    We finally did the ashes today. I suppose that will be some kind of closure. I'm not quite done with it yet, I need to talk to them again about getting a plaque with her name on it.

    It was a nice ceremony. A bit windy, but this is Glasgow, so it would be. My nephew John, who is a very good public speaker, read out a few words written by other people, mostly by my stepdaughter, my sister-in-law and a couple of lines from the bible. As an atheist, I wasn't necessarily too thrilled with the Jesusy stuff, but this day wasn't for me, it was for everyone who missed her, about a dozen of us there. I got to say a few words as well. I'm not as good a public speaker as John is, so my voice broke and I had to struggle to get the words out, but I got there. Mostly in English, but some in Swedish. Then we scattered the ashes. There was some short debate over who should do it, my stepson declined, so his sister and her daughter did it. Given the wind, this could have turned into a Big Lebowski joke, but it did not, the director must have been used to doing this several times, and told them where to stand, and it was fine. I was then handed a live white dove, to be released after a poem was read. I'm not a very gentle person, quite clumsy, and the dove looked up at me as if it was thinking "you better not damn well crush me with your big stupid ogre hands", so I tried my best. I was startled by one of the family who came up to get a closer look at the bird, so I let go of it a couple of seconds too early, but that was probably better than the other option, which was to hold onto it too tightly and maybe crush it.

    We later went to a restaurant, and chatted for a couple of hours about how much she meant to all of us. I had brought some photo albums, since my stepdaughter asked me to, so there was a lot of reminiscing and telling stories. Some I knew, some I'd never heard before. Like Tocky said, we swapped stories. Good times. Good memories.

    After we disbanded, me and my stepdaughter and granddaughter went out for a meal. We talked a bit more about her mother. I showed them some photos from my phone they hadn't seen before, and told a few stories they didn't hear earlier with all the family about.

    Then later in the evening, I went to see a live band that meant a lot to me and my wife. It just so happened that they played in our town this very same day. They even played our song. And I sang every line of it. But that's another story.

    [Edit: typos fixed]
    Last edited by Gray; 23rd May 2019 at 21:48.

  16. #91
    Member
    Registered: May 2004
    Sounds like it went really well, all things considered.

    Btw, here's a game I just heard about the other day. I haven't played it yet, but it's supposed to be about dealing with grief and the difficulty of moving on:


    https://agaitcheson.itch.io/the-book-ritual

    An interactive art-piece played using a real-world book of your choice.

    Write in your book to tell it about yourself. Deface its pages in creativity exercises, so that your book can understand you. Tear out pages to keep the conversation going, as it reveals to you how it came to be and why it wants to know you.

    The Book Ritual is about dealing with loss and accepting change. It is about coming to terms with decisions that can’t be undone, and the souvenirs which will lose their meaning to time.



    What you use to dispose of pages is up to you, the player:

    * Play with a standard office shredder
    * Play with your own waste-paper bin
    * Build your own USB-connected shredder with the instructions included

    The Book Ritual can be played at home on your own, or set up at an exhibition, with visitors collaboratively transforming a book, each shred being a souvenir of a stranger's personal experience.

  17. #92
    SShock2.com
    Member

    Registered: Apr 2001
    Location: The land of ever sideways rain
    I'm not sure if I've turned a corner, but something is different. After we did the ashes, I don't know, perhaps not closure, I'll probably never get that, but it did feel as if a great weight was lifted off my shoulders. For once, I can focus on myself a bit. I know, to you that probably sounds laughable, because all I ever talk about is myself, but that's not what's my life has been until now. The last few years have just been about dealing with my wife's illness, helping her as best I could, then her slow decline and death. I've never really had the time to deal with my own illness.

    This week I've been doing new things. I found a CBT app called Sleepio that I've started to use (recommended by the NHS). I did some proper CBT with a therapist some 12-15 years ago, so I know what it's about, but it's a long time ago, I've probably forgotten a lot of it, and I've not been able to keep up the things I did know over the last very turbulent 10 years. Now, sticking with the program requires some discipline. This past year I've been drinking more than I should, knowing full and well I should cut down. If I'm gonna stick with the CBT thingy, it's pointless if I drink too much, because alcohol is the enemy of discipline, and also sleep. Then, logically, it makes perfect sense to do both at once. It may sound as if that's making it harder, but no, they support each other, making it easier. But there's a third thing. The Sleepio app will happily import sleep data from a Fitbit. So I bought one. I generally hate the idea of a Fitbit, but then again, as a computer science nerd, I do love numbers and graphs. Point being, these three things now converge in a way I didn't actually plan: CBT sleep management, reduce alcohol consumption, and the physical activity I was already doing but now have new shiny numbers for, perhaps I can at last make some SMALL progress with my sleep disorder. As some of you might remember, I'm a bitter grumpy cynic, and I'm very sceptical about most things, but in this particular case perhaps it might actually be vaguely helpful. Maybe.

    So yeah, the perpetual pessimist is somewhat optimistic. Vaguely.
    Last edited by Gray; 2nd Jun 2019 at 12:05.

  18. #93
    Member
    Registered: May 2000
    Location: state of quantum entanglement
    Good luck!

    BTW. I don't suppose there is a way of getting Sleepio to import data from an alternative Fitbit app which does not upload band data to the mothership, is there? Assuming there *are* such apps available, of course - I use Gadgetbridge with my Mi Band (I absolutely hate the idea of letting this kind of data out of my grasp, regardless of whether it goes to China, the US or Zimbabwe; the app being free software is nice too) but to the best of my knowledge it doesn't support Fitbits.

  19. #94
    SShock2.com
    Member

    Registered: Apr 2001
    Location: The land of ever sideways rain
    The Sleepio app specifically mentions two devices, Fitbit and something called UP, which I don't know anything about. But really, any device that will log your sleep details, you can just paste that into the app if it's not supported itself.

  20. #95
    Member
    Registered: Jun 2010
    Location: A Former Forest
    Gray, keep on keeping on dude! You are not being silly. You love(d) your wife. Sheís gone though, so direct that love where it counts in the land of the living. She would be OK with that, at least I hope she would. Youíve been through so much. Caring for a sick loved one is draining on the soul and body. You did your best and now it is time for you to be you and let yourself fly. Itís your time now. Of course donít over do it, but be free. You have been a saint. Enjoy life and what it has to offer. Be nice though!

  21. #96
    SShock2.com
    Member

    Registered: Apr 2001
    Location: The land of ever sideways rain
    Thank you.

    Yes, you're right, but I'd rather still be wiping up her vomit and diarrhoea than not have her here with me anymore. It was almost two years of chemotherapy. A very unpleasant process. I hated to see her get weaker and weaker, and slowly fade into nothing. If it was my choice, I'd rather sit by her bed, holding her hand, just talking, than be with any supermodel alive. Nobody yet has matched her clever brains. I'll never stop missing her. But I'll focus on the good things. Her smile. Her sparkling eyes. Like a beam of pure happiness.

    But yes, I should move on, let go of the past, I know. I'm not quite there yet, but I'm moving towards it.

  22. #97
    SShock2.com
    Member

    Registered: Apr 2001
    Location: The land of ever sideways rain
    Quote Originally Posted by Tocky View Post
    It might even help you sleep.
    So I've been told. I live in Scotland now, and almost every single person I know have smoked it or still do. They all tell me it'll be good to help me sleep, and I don't doubt them. Thing is, I never want to do anything illegal, I just don't have the street smarts, I'm too thick, if it turns out I like it I wouldn't know where to go or who to buy it from. If it was made legal, sure, I'd give it a go, but low on the THC and higher on the CBD. We even got some for my wife to help kill the pain, so I've rolled a few joints for her, but never actually used it myself. So I have handled it, just never used it. She mocked my poor joint rolling skills, they came out quite wonky, I guess I just didn't have the talent for it, but she was too weak to do it herself at that point. Her sister later got her a vape thingy that I loaded with weed, and it seemed to do her some good, or at least ease the pain a bit.

    [Edit]

    Point being, I'm not claiming some moral high ground here. I'd be quite happy to try it and see if it helps me sleep, I just do NOT want to do anything illegal. My slow brain just can't work itself around doing anything vaguely duplicitous, I can't remember all the nonsense I say, so I'm very strictly only speaking the truth to everybody. If I was making shit up I'd never remember what lies I told and to whom. This makes me a terrible liar and an awful weed buyer. Even if I could figure out where and how to get it, if I was asked by street cops I couldn't lie my way out of it, I'm too thick for that now.
    Last edited by Gray; 4th Jun 2019 at 20:07.

  23. #98
    Member
    Registered: Feb 2001
    Location: Somewhere
    Keep in mind that it does affect people differently. In my case, it helps manage pain, but certainly doesnt help me sleep.

  24. #99
    Member
    Registered: Feb 2002
    Location: In the flesh.
    Cops are like everybody else in that most of them see the hypocrisy in illegal weed and legal booze. They just have to do their jobs they are sworn to. They are pretty lax over small amounts in most cases. I remember one finding a roach in my cars ash tray but he laughed when I said damn I would have smoked that if I knew it was in there and just let me go. Told me not to smoke and drive is all, which is sensible advice. I'm not real duplicitous either but it works out I don't have to be since I'm friendly and unassuming. I guess I could have run into a real asshole in all these years but somehow I never have.

    Lawyers are right about not volunteering information though. Of course that might not jibe with the paranoia you sometimes get from a "head high" herb. You might want a "body high" sort. I've never much cared for the heavy sleepy feel of those but it might be just the thing you need. I guess I've never much cared for what others thought should be legal or illegal either. Speaking of that, I did recently buy my first legal weed just last week. My wife and I went to Colorado for my grandsons graduation and we dropped into a dispensary. An interesting experience.

    First you enter a wide narrow room with a flip up chuck wagon style window where you present your drivers license. I didn't like that. I don't like being on anyone's list. The guy said not to worry and that they never shared information with any other place but I never trust that shit. But I wanted the experience so I had to. Next we were told to go into a door to a waiting room. Lot's of normal folks just like you sitting on couches watching a TV or chatting. One couple had a dog with them. Nobody was saying "far out man" or anything. You were given a number and told to wait.

    Next to this room was the buy room. It was all space age clear glass and chrome spotless. The wall between was glass with a single glass door that a guy would walk to and call a number when it was your turn. Meanwhile you could watch as others chose this or that out of clear glass cases waited on by friendly ordinary folks you wouldn't think twice about if you met them in the park. They knew their shit though. When our number came up we had to let the guy know we knew jack about the legal stuff and he would have to lead us a bit. Since he was around my age we struck up a conversation about the old days and got on right off. He even brought over some Lebanese type blonde hash for me to smell. I love that smell. However we didn't have but a little over a week in the state so we couldn't buy much. I got some tangerine candy and a quarter ounce of buds at a really decent price. It wasn't the name brand Willie Nelson or Snoop Dog stuff which ran a little more but this new stuff is WAY potent. The buds were only 25 bucks and the candy, some twenty of the lozenges, a mere 20. The array of choices were stunning but with all those waiting on the other side of the glass for their turn at one of the three or four sales people we figured not to waste his time.

    We spent the first few days with the kids so didn't partake as we explored Estes park and the mountains and fun parks and old Stanley hotel where Stephen King had a nightmare that became The Shining. After we were on our own I bought a glass pipe at a head shop and sat on a porch off the back of a little cottage we had rented next to a mountain stream and got Rocky Mountain high. Two puffs. Don't do five. Five is really too many. Just a little pinch off one of the buds was all we used. The rest we gave away. There was just too much to do during the day and we had to soak in as much of that beautiful country as we could. I don't puff and drive anymore. Besides, there are no guard rails on those mountain switchbacks.

    The candy I thought was a wash. At the end of the day after all our train rides through canyons and highest suspension bridge this and tallest mountain that we would take some candy before bed. I never felt anything out of it though. I would stay up a couple of hours watching it hail or sleet or snow as it often did at night only to be a mild spring day in the morning with elk or ram walking about and hardly paying you any attention and the roads hardly damp and ready for travel. Anyway, after the smoke, which was just way too too kick ass, the candy was a let down. I didn't feel one. I didn't feel two. I didn't feel four. Only... at about three in the morn I woke up to go piss and looked at myself in the mirror realizing I was fucked up as a goose. It took four or five hours to hit and about four of them to do it. Who has time to plan hours ahead for a high?

    I wish I could have taken some of the buds back but you just can't risk it. Likely they wouldn't have given a shit at Denver International. It's legal there. But Memphis might if there had been anyone who didn't just want to get done with their shift. BTW Denver is the biggest airport I've ever seen. Denver itself is bigger than Chicago or Dallas or LA even. That surprised me.

  25. #100
    Member
    Registered: Aug 2000
    Location: VIE, .at
    Quote Originally Posted by Gray View Post
    Fitbit [Ö] I do love numbers and graphs
    I was annoyed that you outright dismissed my suggestion of drastically reducing the melatonin dose, but I didn't show it out of politeness.

    Now that you have measuring equipment, do the science, I will not allow any excuses. What do you have to lose by experimenting?

    PS: Went into a sleep lab this year with my problem and the prescribed treatment provided immediate and full relief of all symptoms.

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