Still Struggling With Worry Over Daddy's Death

In my December 12th post "The Consequences Of Not Properly Coping With My Anger", I mentioned that my therapist Kara had pointed out that my dad didn't have control over his death and I had begun to realize that I had no reason to be mad at him.

While I was writing that, another thought occurred to me and I've still been thinking about it. I've heard about people dying just because they give up on living for one reason or another. Daddy had suffered from chronic back pain for years and it seemed, especially closer to the end of his life, not much was helping it. Did Daddy die because he was tired of living with his pain?

According to one website "Depression may play a part in premature death due to other causes, such as heart disease." Certainly Daddy's back pain caused him to be depressed a lot. That, coupled with his diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder would really aggravate his problems.

Daddy definitely worried a lot about other things. He continually worried about having enough money despite the fact the nursing home was taking care of all his needs. I keep thinking about what I said earlier about getting mad at him. I did give him a lot of grief. Maybe he never really got over that. Another log added to the fire of worry.

Does it really make sense that Daddy died because he just gave up? The coroner said he had hardening of the arteries around his intestines that caused his death. How could he have control over that? Could depression have played some part in that?

Now that I've thought of this, the O.C.D is going to gnaw at me. Yeah, I know someone would tell me " Try not to worry - there's nothing you can do to change the situation." Hearing that never helps. It just makes me angry and adds more worry.

Those Illogical Human Emotions

According to Vulcan philosophy, emotions can't be explained by logic ~ memory-alpha.org

I’ve been a fan of Star Trek since my teen years. Recently I was watching the move “Star Trek: Generations”, the one where Captain Picard seeks the help of a supposedly dead Captain Kirk to stop Dr. Soran from destroying a star system so he can enter the Nexus, a mysterious energy ribbon.

One of the storylines takes up where the series left off about Lt. Commander Data's endeavor to become more human. As usual, when Data makes an attempt to tell a joke, nobody except him finds it funny. So, when Dr. Crusher encourages Data to get into the spirit of things at the celebration for Worf's promotion, he shoves her into the ocean. When no one is amused, especially Dr. Crusher, Data decides it's time to give his emotion chip a try.

Much to his delight, Data can experience genuine emotions. However, it's not long before things go terribly wrong because he is unable to control them. On a mission with his best friend Geordi La Forge they come under attack and the once rational and logical Data is curled up in a corner whimpering in fear.

Later, back aboard the Enterprise, Data begs Picard to deactivate him until the chip can be removed. Picard refuses, telling Data that learning to control emotions is part of being human.

Despite the fact of what Spock often said of his race the Vulcans, they do have emotions. In one episode of Star Trek: Voyager, Tuvok explains that Vulcans' natural emotions are "erratic and volatile"; if Vulcans do not strongly repress emotions, they can get violently angry in an instant.

Learning to control and deal with emotions is a lesson I keep having problems with. Many times I've wished that I could just deactivate my emotions and not feel anything. At times I have really envied Mr. Spock and Data, but emotions are part of what makes us human and as Picard told Data, we have to learn to live with and control them.

If a person was truly unemotional, how could he relate to anyone? How could he care about anything? Where would be the joy of falling in love? The delight in seeing a baby's smile? How could we find pleasure in watching children grow up? How could we even care about them?

As Captain Kirk said in Star Trek V, "Damn it, Bones, you're a doctor. You know that pain and guilt can't be taken away with a wave of a magic wand. They're the things we carry with us, the things that make us who we are. If we lose them, we lose ourselves! I don't want my pain taken away! I need my pain!!"

Thanks Captain Kirk for that lesson in those illogical human emotions!

The Demon of My Mind

Inspire by my OCD


In a dark and gloomy place in the back of my mind is a door that leads to a cellar.

I hear continuous scratching at the door and on the dirt floor. I know the source of the noise. It frightens me to think about it. It’s been there a long time and won’t go away. It’s an insidious, evil thing… a demon. It has one thing on its mind. To be released.

Sometimes, it’s scratching and clawing is intense, invading my mind and making it difficult to concentrate on anything else. Sometimes, its efforts to be released are quieter. Still allowing me to think, but always trying to claw it’s way out. It’s persistent, always clawing and scratching. Desperately trying to be free. God, how it wants out! I tremble at

the thought of it being released. The terror it could cause!

Locked Up Memories

Some more of my writing from a few years ago.


I had an argument with my sister a few years ago. During that time, I played certain parts of it over like a CD on continuous playback. After awhile, I shoved the memory inside a door in the back of my mind & locked it. Now, I panic whenever I think about unlocking it.

It’s kind of like sweeping the dirt under a rug. The floor looks nice and clean to visitors. The dirt is out of sight, out of mind. Right? Perhaps out of sight, but not out of mind. I know it’s still there, waiting to be discovered. Possibly by someone other than me.

If I’m the only one who ever knows it’s there, that’s enough. While visitors think everything is clean, I know the truth.

With memories repressed or locked behind doors, they’re not out of sight, out of mind. I know it’s there and it’s wanting to get back out.

The locked up memory is pushing on the door. Putting stress on it. Over time, if enough pressure is applied, the door is liable to break open. Then what’s the magnitude of the problem? Worse than in the beginning?