Ground Control to Major Tom

I just returned to earth. It's good to be home but the trip was pretty intense. Scary as hell at times but really comforting too. All in all, a fascinating trip. I had to go because it just wasn't working for me here on earth. Too much to shit to handle. So I took off. Luckily for me, I wasn't alone. I had an able crew and my fellow passengers were the most eclectic group I could ever dream up. I admit I had my reservations about traveling with them. When I hopped aboard the ship I thought I was fucked. Not that I don't take to strangers like AL Franken takes to Big Fat Liar Rush Limbaugh, but I thought I was in for seven hours a day of mind-numbing boredom for the entire trip. And I expected the crew to be too busy minding their own little job description to give a shit about me. But I was dead wrong. I was in for the trip of my life.

I had to leave earth because I couldn't figure out how to cope. After thirty years of dealing with panic and anxiety and depression, all the tricks I knew -- therapy, drugs, hiding it, gutting it out, pulling the covers over my head, even new stuff like telling my family I was in over my head, that I was sick and I couldn't figure out how to get well -- it just didn't work anymore. So I went to the ER and said "I'm sorry. I don't know what to do. Tell me." They were skeptical. They said "Boy, is your blood pressure always this high? You sure you're not having a heart attack?" I tried to 'splain them that my blood pressure was all over the fucking map and that my problem was that I was cuckoo. Finally after six or eight hours they believed that I didn't have a heart attack, and let me talk to the the lady that was the head of head cases. She listened to my story and asked how I felt about taking up residence overnight in the lovely facility where I was currently being held. I asked "What else ya got?" She said that there was a space ship leaving in the morning at eight where I could hitch a hide to Planet Sanity. "Sounds good to me."

So I blasted off on the trip I'll call Out Patient Club Med. The trip lasted ten days, 9:00 to 3:00, every day, and last Friday I landed softly back on earth. And feeling much better. All in all, an experience exceeding my every expectation. And the part of the trip I dreaded the most -- the "group" activities -- was in fact the best. We were as diverse a group as you can imagine from every social, economic, educational, career and personal background. People whose paths would almost surely never have crossed but for being passengers on the same trip. But I have never become so attached to and affectionate about any group in my life. I would happily knock the shit out of anyone who spoke disparagingly about any one of them.

I can't talk about them because their lives are no one's business but their own but I can tell you that the bond of common suffering and struggling is a powerful thing. I have never seen such non-judgmental accepting caring people in my life.

And the crew was simply the best. Every one of them was as dedicated to getting me well as they could be. Their patience and professionalism were remarkable.

I have so much more to say about my trip, but it just too fucking personal to those involved. So allow me to drop two pearls of wisdom: (1) Right now, this very second, take charge of your own health -- As they say " You're the CEO of your health -- and (2), ask for help. There are some beautiful people who really know what they are doing out there.

It's good to be home. The trip continues on earth but I feel confident it won't eat me alive next time.

Ok, Ok. I know this hasn't been funny -- so try this. While on this trip to outer space and back I continued to pursue my primary avocation and major purpose in life -- dating every woman who could possible be The One. I met a woman online through one of the sixteenth dating services I'm in. (I'm bullshitting you about the 16 part.) She lives most of the time in a warm place but was in metro Detroit, her home, for a week and we met. We had coffee and talked for 2-3 hours and decided to have dinner. It seemed to silly little me that it went extraordinarily well. Imagine my surprise when I got the brush off the next day via a shitty little email. Well the jokes on you Miss Too Tight Jeans For a Woman Your Age, you had no clue what I was dealing with on my little space trip and you lost out on one of the best guys this planet has to offer.

Happy Landings.