The Needle and the Healing Done

Using a needle on yourself doesn't necessarily mean death and destruction, given the right drug in the needle...


I just pulled a needle out of my leg. Out of the big muscle on top of the thigh that runs across from outward to in. I filled the syringe from a vial, the drug oozing slowly into the barrel. Wiping my skin with alcohol, I took a deep breath and plunged the needle deep into my muscle. The drug entered my body slowly, with a great deal of pressure on the plunger. Al that remains is a slightly sore knot where the injection sits to work its magic on my body...

Dramatic words, huh? But really it's not a big deal. In fact, it's a whole lot better than getting a flu shot. You can even teach someone else to inject it in the gluteus, or even have it done at the doctor's office. The best part is that you'll feel like a new man the next morning.

Testosterone. That eeeviiill hormone decried by feminists for decades. The hormone that makes us men, and which will turn us into angry, depressed, tired slobs when it gets low in our middle-age years. A hormone misunderstood by almost everyone.

For the past 4-5 years, I've been depressed. No anti-depressant did anything to alleviate that feeling. For the past year, I've had absolutely no reason to be depressed; everything in my life has been doing well and getting better. Except for me. In spite of a fantastic new job and a wonderful woman that loves me more than I can imagine, I've just sank lower and lower. Fatigue dogged my every waking hour, even after plenty of sleep. Several times, I had been ready to just give up and give in.

A few weeks ago, I went to a new doctor and described all these problems and asked if I could get a test of my testosterone level. My doctor's PA (Physicians Assistant) felt that testosterone could likely be a contributing factor. After a confirmation of an exceedingly low testosterone level, I went and picked up my prescription.

I took my first injection one week ago. Overnight, (seriously, overnight!) I felt like I hadn't felt in years. The depression was gone, completely. Within another day or two, I felt more energy, and more interest in all sorts of activities that I thought I had grown bored with. The people around me could see the immediate change in my mood, and I could see an immediate change in, er, other areas...


For all of you men in your forties and beyond, I can't urge you enough to have this checked, if you've been feeling depressed, tired, uninterested, etc. Ladies, if you see these signs in your man, have him get checked. The solution is easy and inexpensive. A shot a week for a few weeks and then one every 3-4 weeks is a small price to pay to get your former life back. As big, tough, manly men, (in our minds, at least! lol) it's hard to even think that this might be a problem for us. But, if it is, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, and you won't regret it one bit.

And once you see how fast it makes you feel so very different, you'll have a greater understanding and appreciation for the huge changes that hormone swings cause in the mood of your lady...



On the radio this evening, I heard the host describing a man..."He's been loved, he knows love, and gives out a lot of love; that's why he doesn't need a therapist." Truest words I've heard all week.

Take care of yourselves and your loved ones,
E

What? What?

You ever have one of those dreams where a real physical sensation from your body translates into your dream? I had one this morning; woke up thinking a cop was punching me. Turned out that my head was laying on my hand and I had a knuckle jammed into my cheekbone. Those kind of dreams are kind of funny; much better than the ones where you're flailing and throwing the covers around and you have no idea why. Certainly much better than the ones where you're dreaming that you're going to the bathroom, and hoping in the dream that you'll wake up in time.

Flag Day; Devil Candy; Greek Food.

I was wrong. There is some good stuff to write about today.

First off, it's Flag Day. I just put my U.S. and Texas flags out after taking the garbage can to the curb. Our local Girl Scouts will put a flag in front of your house on holidays as a fund-raiser. Strange that they don't do Flag Day as one of those holidays. They do some other things wrong with the flags, but that's for another day.

Deleted

I had a long post written and just hit the delete button on it. I didn't like it. And I didn't like it because it was just too cynical, IMO. I just really don't need that in my life anymore.

A few years back, I used to write voluminous posts venting my vituperative venom. Didn't help me get past any of that stuff one bit, it just pushed me deeper into the feedback loop of anger. These days I choose to focus on more positive things, or at least to express myself on difficult subjects in a positive manner.

Treasure and Worship

Shifting from one to the other, that's where it all started going downhill. You'll need to refer to the previous post to get some of the references I make here, but it's short and quick to read.

Last year, I wound up in a relationship that was better than any one I had been in before and better than I could have imagined. One thing that made it very loving for us was my decision early on to ask God to help me treasure her every day. The problem was that when you forget who you are, the work you've done, and that you're perfect at being human, it becomes easy to elevate others to a place that they shouldn't occupy in your life. She had become my object of worship.

Wake-Up Call

I've been processing some things over the past few days and had quite a moment of clarity as a result.

Fours years ago, I had an unrequited love knock me on my butt, so to speak. I was at what was probably the most healthy and whole point in my life, spiritually and emotionally. The problem wasn't so much getting knocked on my butt as it was my lazy refusal to get back up and go on with living my life. Fast forward through three years of isolation and depression, and I found myself with an even more amazing love, one that I couldn't have imagined. Things could have been beyond my wildest dreams, but the depression was still hanging on to me. Or so I thought.