The Culture that has been here all the time

Once upon a time, when I was battling deep depression episodes, I asked my counselor, "Can I ever feel like I did as a child once more?"

He then, and another later, wouldn't answer. To be fair, probably no counselor can truly answer that. I had to research the question and find my own answer.

The answer lies in the brain's natural chemistry, and no external material or substance can truly recreate the joy of a child seeing the world for the first time. Tried but gave up. Falling in love was close. Love can produce the right chemistry if we let it, and if we do not spoil it with resistance or by creating obstacles to feeling joy.

"Happy chemicals" are neurotransmitters and hormones—Dopamine, Serotonin, Oxytocin, and Endorphins—that regulate mood, pleasure, and emotional well-being. " AI

In my entire adult life, I have experienced a joy that closely resembled the childhood joy: Three hugs spaced many years apart. Each within a sorrowful period when I was alone and not filled with hope. I do not think that in each case the woman who comforted me knew she had, and it was probably not her intention to create the depth of feeling I experienced - yet I allowed the momentary joy to exist. I am hopeful even now.

Before my wife passed, there were at least five years without intimacy (dementia). I sought a sub to be my FWB, had one briefly, but the overwhelming reality? I came to accept that the scammers were so good at convincing me that I was handsome, interesting, and desirable that I must have fallen into their traps without realizing it. All too often.

Now I don't know what to believe; even the praises that I cared for my wife for eight years out of forty-one seem disingenuous. 

If I am such a "good man," why am I alone? Simple answer? People lie.

Back in the 90's, we considered another legal path because a bankruptcy lawyer made a mistake that cost us more money. We met with an older lawyer, and when we were in his office, his young wife and two small children stopped by. He was old enough to be their grandfather. So, what is the distinction between why he had a young wife and why I can't even find a companion in my age group? 

It isn't money; it is security for the young woman; this lawyer's ability to provide a decent future for his young family. Yes, it was a practical decision.

I have enough tangible things, still active and still able to offer love, but apparently that is not enough. The one factor that could have helped, in my opinion, was being at least 10 years younger. 

And so the curse one of my family members put on me seems destined to be valid: She said, " I hope you die alone with no one around to notice."

ADDENDUM: Yes, I dealt with depression all my life, and in 2022, my doctors finally diagnosed something I knew all along: I AM BIPOLAR. When I was actually able to interact with a psychiatrist, not just a psychologist or GP, I got real meds that work for me. She helped me cope with my wife dying slowly, and now, though I am sad, I can deal with it better between the meds and Cognitive Self-Therapy. Why does my family have a negative view of me? Most likely, the untreated bipolar illness. Too bad it came so late in my life. My late wife also had complex mental issues, and maybe it was the glue that held us together for forty-one years. NO, I AM NOT GIVING UP. I SEE A FLICKERING LIGHT AT THE FAR END OF THE CAVE. I have my interests, my cat and dog, art, and my music that I have reignited.

Maybe one morning I will awaken to find that I have a new woman in my life, and we are both in love. It could be that after sixty years of having a lover, I am now addicted to love. Absolutely not the worst addiction. Loving sex as part of it is superior to being addicted to sex. I defeated several challenges in my life, such as cigarettes and alcoholic beverages, but I never equate my desire for love as purely lust, so I will not wean myself from love. 

Good morning, I slept well with over an hour of REM sleep because it turned cold overnight.  A week into spring, and I missed the start, but the flowers were not taken by surprise; they bloom around the neighborhood. Last night, winter clawed at my house and chilled it nicely. I have managed to pay the enormous winter heating bills, and since my late wife isn't here, I have little reason to keep the temperature as high as I used to.

Every day holds a promise or a surprise. I am counting on a positive in my life to manifest itself. There isn't a single reason other than a feeling. Maybe I am being too optimistic. I know that romantic visions of Europe persisted during the three years I lived in a village, which heightened my desire to recapture that romance. Alas, I no longer have the financial means to become an expat. Maybe if I win the lottery.

I look in the mirror and wonder if anyone could like that guy. I don't look as old as I am, and I am still self-reliant. My finances have recovered, and I use some of my time with music and art. Still thinking about how much garden I want this year. Still trying to motivate myself to put away and deal with clutter and remnants of the past that are not sentimental. 

I still miss having breakfast with a companion, but I wonder who would want a used car like me anyway. I really liked the Shortwave Radio in my old Simca because I listened to BBC news each evening at 18:00 local NJ time (LOL). (Pixabay photo)

Researchers and my doctors concur that I may be the last living Neanderthal. Why?

I endure the cold climates well, I have an urge to draw on walls, and I tend to be depressed. I found it hard to stop drinking alcoholic beverages, give up my hyena, badger, and wolverene pets, and most of all, prefer human females to neanderthal females.

Dear and lovely companion, wherever you are, Good morning. Your smile would brighten a rainy morning if you were here. I am about to make coffee and breakfast. Is there anything special you want? Though the sky is grey and the street wet, crocuses and daffodils are blooming. The Forsythia's yellow buds are more obvious this morning. Maybe this is the day we shall meet. (all pixabay)

It has been a long while since I wrote about something scientific or mathematical on my blog. The recent "Scientists finally figured out the math behind how you see color."  see Scientists finally figured out the math behind how you see color:

The amazing thing is that the enhanced "Tetrachromacy is a rare condition where individuals possess four types of cone cells in their eyes instead of the usual three, allowing them to perceive roughly 100 times more colors—up to 100 million hues—and distinguish subtle shades others cannot. Primarily affecting women, this condition allows for enhanced sensitivity, particularly in the yellow-red spectrum". Look up Tetrachromacy.

What motivates me? Others, especially close friends. Now alone for the first time in almost fifty years, I am not moved to keep my house up to snuff. Never really been sloppy inside my home or yard (attic, garage, or basement maybe), but without a companion and no visits from anyone, I don't care. Another factor, when I bought this house about four years ago, it seemed to fit. Now that I am a widower for the first time, it is unimportant and lacks space for office and hobbies. Like René Magritte, I paint in the dining room. 

Reigniting my music and art is beginning to add clutter with associated stuff. Soon, new paintings will be scattered about.

I care more about my dog and cat now, too. My cat is a fusspot. He seems to ignore the cat fountain I bought for him and keeps to the old water bowl.

Yes, I am reaching out in search of a companion, but so far, there is no reason to be optimistic. (pixabay)

Ultra Reality has engulfed me. When my wife was diagnosed with dementia, the first four years, we still could take a ride, a walk, shop, and have lunch together, even as her cognitive issues grew. By year five, that was down to rides to the doctor and fast food pick up to bring home, then by year seven I could only manage some of my doctor's appointments by hiring an aide to watch over her, and in the last three months, I relied on Hospice's help (so grateful to them).

I occasionally attempted to seek a companion, and the scammers destroyed my finances. Today, I am well on the way to financial recovery.

The rollercoaster of mourning is rough, though learning about the long goodbye helped a great deal. I live with my dog and cat, watch TV, play some guitar, sing for myself, and have begun working on some art. I have a hard time falling asleep even with melatonin, and I do have dreams, some of them not nightmares but unpleasant nevertheless. Last night I was startled to see an apparition.

I woke at about 2 am to my cat nudging me, and I saw a vivid image of my wife holding stuffed animals standing by my bedside. Ambivalent because I felt love and fear, I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, she was gone.

I have been cut off from dating for forty-one years, but last night I decided I need to resume my quest for a companion. What did I do? I opened an account with eHarmony, feeling both awkward and hopeful. 

I have many positive things to share with a woman, and maybe the potential woman will have many positive things to share with me. I am not sure how to proceed, living in a town where I am still a stranger, with no friends and limited contact with family. I feel I have no choice. Yes, it costs money, and the first contact was without a doubt a scammer. I had her blocked. And, unsure of my dating abilities.

Here are two songs for my mistress, 1973 -1979, oh how much I loved her, and I know the love still lives in me after all this time (so true). My memories explode when I play and sing them again.