Archive for November, 2010

shattering had left me disappointed, confused and a little annoyed

That was my response to a tweet from Prelimar about the recent changes in WoW.

It also sums up the way I feel much of the time when I am depressed.  No I’m not depressed right now, but right at this point of time my interest has waned for WoW, I dare say a temporary thing and I think much of how I feel is summed up in Bear’s post.

So back on topic… where to start…

Talking about it

My ex-wife tried to kill herself last Monday.

Things were going really well for her, but that black dog grabbed her and shook her till she gave up.

Luckily her boyfriend was home, he called me in a panic, then got her to hospital and she was released in the wee hours of the morning.

She is much better now, and determined to be around for a long time.

I hope she keeps it together and it was a good sign that she attended the Movember Gala event… what a good place to beat back the black dog, surrounded by people who understand, that are supportive and prepared to have a laugh in the face of depression.

OK, I accept that may have been a bit of an over the top introduction… maybe my wife’s recent state more so than my apathy for WoW, but I guess it was in part to show that some things, no matter how dire, shouldn’t just be covered up.  They need to be talked about and we can talk about them without shame.

There is more shame in a black eye… there is a good chance you deserve that.

The Moscar is awarded to the best Movember video

So how are you feeling?


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Depression in the workplace: Movember

Ever been at work when you are ill?

Know people at work that are ill?

Maybe you/they have had a little time off occasionally, a sick day here or there.

Do you know someone that has been sick with more than the common cold?

  • Maybe a broken limb.
  • Maybe something more serious like cancer (including depression’s Movember stablemate prostate cancer)

Something that for a period of time prevents 100% attendance, 100% performance?

Land of the Sicky

Australia is the land of the sicky. We, as full time permanent workers, get an allowance of about 10 sick days a year, give or take.

Australia is also a nation where the national pastime has been (this attitude is changing slowly) drinking. There aren’t many events in Australian life where you can’t find a glass of something alcoholic.

When you combine these two aspects of Australian life and work you get another Australian tradition, the “sicky”. Which is of course a sick day for no other reason than to allow you to get over the big night, to sleep out the hangover, or maybe just to hit the pub again for the hair of the dog.

  • If someone is physically ill, we make allowances.
  • If someone is hungover and pulling a sicky, we have a chuckle at their misfortune, curse when it becomes a regular event, but otherwise we just accept it.

Try to get time off or a little bit of leeway because you are depressed and you will get:

Get over it you wuss!

Even when you are providing doctors certificates for your visits to the shrinks.

Even when you make up the lost time with extra hours.

Even when you bust your gut just to get out of bed in the morning, to keep your job, to keep yourself going, to give yourself another tool against depression, you are looked at with suspicion.

The Importance of work

Work is vitally important when you are depressed. You need things to point to and acknowledge that you are of value, that you have success, a reason to drag yourself out of bed every morning, cause god knows that’s hard enough some days (more…)

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The title of this may just give away the general theme of this post, but don’t let that dissuade you from reading it… hell there are a lot of reasons not to read my posts, don’t let me being blindingly obvious be one of them. Anyway, I’m here for the good news stories.. everyone loves a happy ending don’t they?

Last time I wrote of my apparently amazing, practically overnight recovery from years of depression.

If I gave the impression that a visit to a shrink solved my problems overnight, then I am sorry. I know some people do permanently overcome depression, but I’m not going to giving you a false sense of comfort.  I changed, over a long period of time, from living with – accepting – depression, to managing it to the point where it doesn’t interfere with my life.  Some times it doesn’t rear it’s ugly head for long periods of time, other times, when life is rough, it takes some conscious effort.

But, that 1st trip to the shrink did bring me back from the brink, I had a purpose again, I had assistance to get well, it was no longer hopeless… there was a future and there was an immediate lift in my mood.

Anyway, back in story telling mode…

A few years after getting help and sorting my life out, a time that involved timeout by myself, changing habits of a lifetime, working crazy hours on crazy hard projects, even nursing my brother-in-law through home-based palliative care (and staying on a while longer to make sure my sister had a good chance of getting back on her feet), one of those things that you only see in pathetic chick-flicks happened (more…)

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Youth gone wild: Movember

So we have a family setting, you could say that depression was pervasive in the family, but we were either unaware (I certainly was) or in denial.

As I grew up it was just life. Outwardly extroverted and hyperactive, inwardly introverted and reflective.

I didn’t fit the family mold, I didn’t want to join the armed forces or play sport, I wanted to read and do art. I’m not sure whether this introversion was a “symptom” of my depression or not, maybe I was just a sensitive child.

Teenage years were a minefield, which is probably the same for most teenagers anyway.

When outside of school I spent the rest of my time in my room, reading, dreaming and planning for my next dungeons and dragons session.

I played a lot of D&D. Nearly 30 years later my D&D playing mates are still some of my best friends.

My family tried often to get me outside the house, but while they succeeded, my safe place was my room, or the D&D sessions.

As much as the D&D was probably avoiding the issue, it probably kept me alive, gave me an outlet to be creative, to mix with people and actually achieve things, like starting the D&D club and my Catholic high school (thanks to Father for defending the club against all the parents calling satanism in a Catholic school, you probably kept me alive).

At 17, high school finished, I went to University, but not a close University, one in the bush, I didn’t really know why, but I had to get away.

I went a little crazy then, but to be fair, that craziness only lasted about 13 years, most of it I don’t honestly remember.

I do know I only stayed as a student at Uni for 1 year, where at least I had the sense to realise that, where my fellow students were going without food to buy teaching aids, I was going without food to buy booze… maybe not the best way to start what I thought would be a teaching career.

There was lots of partying and bands, with lots of alcohol, lots. A standard night out was a large bottle of spirits and a slab of beer (24 cans). I was fortunate (though some may suggest unfortunate) to spend the next 20 years working in Universities. It didn’t particularly matter that I was out 6-7 nights a week. I did my job well (which was primarily interacting with students) and they weren’t fully aware until lunch time most days anyway.

In reality I was out of control.



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My parents were old when they were alive.

They were old when I was born… actually I better rethink that statement, at 43 I am only 2 years off their age at my time of birth.

They were born back in 1922, when the word depression was more commonly ascribed to the Great Depression. In those days you just sucked it up, were happy to have a meal on your plates and go on with the job of living.

Dad was a city boy, oldest of 8 children.

Mum was a country girl, and only child.

When World War II broke out, the government acquired a large portion of my Mother’s family’s land to use as an infantry training base. There is a hill in the artillery range that is still named after my family. My mother and grand mother used to greet the new recruits at the train station after their trip up from Melbourne, make them cakes, write to them when they were overseas and of course, take them dancing… anything for the boys.

That’s how my mum met my dad, at a local dance (more…)

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The Obscurecast Ep 24: Gnome Fawkes

Gnomer and Out!



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Livingbomb is a STD

My first appreciation of the power of STDs in WoW came from one of those (supposedly) hated sources. In fact it caused me to subscribe to a blog that really I have little to nothing in common with, yet still read and joust with on a frequent basis.

Killing ’em Slowly was the blog and the post I read was from the dirty filthy Lock of the duo. It was a perfect example of the spreading of STDs and the (im)moral victories that can be obtained through them. We can’t find that post, maybe my memory is failing, but I still clearly remember a post where a boss was killed just as the last raid member went down, one last tick of a dot from a now deceased Lock and the victory was theirs.

Of course a pure, pious, pulpit wielding Gnome like myself would never live amongst those with STDs, let alone gain one and spread it. Spread it not only without conscience, bit with glee.

No, no, never!

Never would we hear of the pure engaging in underworld activities. Never would they be caught in the arms of an illicit lover.

However, I would engage in Leprechaun like terrorist activities involving the laying of time delayed bombs that rip the face off my opponents and their celebrating friends.

You see, I am a Fire Mage

lol… get it?



Fire Mage!

Yeah, OK, whatever… I can’t be held accountable for how highbrow your sense of humor is.

Really, what did you expect from a Gnome… /serious? (more…)

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I don't know what this has to do with anything, but I like the shot

So it’s the 1st of November, or Movember for me.


and I, have come up against the barber. (more…)

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