OUT OF THE WOODS

The century was grinding to an end and like clock work I went back into therapy. My new shrink diagnosed me as bi-polar/manic depressive. Putting a name (or names) to it didn't make me feel any better. I knew it was situational but that didn't help either. She suggested I go on anti-depressants. Itchy's boss Dr. Bob suggested i try Zoloft. He said it would take a month to kick in. After two weeks I felt like i was going to jump out of my skin. My mood shifted from twitchy panic attacks to deep sadness and crying jags. After taking to my bed and not answering my phone for days, Bird showed up with a six pack. I fell apart in front of little brother, sobbing, snot running down my face, in such despair I couldn't maintain. Poor Bird. He had no idea what to do with me. The only thing that calmed me down was pot. "Jesus Christ. Roll one for God's sake." Bird advised.
When Bird left I called Dr. Bob and he said to up my dosage of Z. Bad move. Another week went by. Just before I put the 12 ga. between my knees, I leafed through my family photos. Then I slid a shell into the chamber. I was waiting for some sign to prevent me from clicking off the safety. None came. My finger caressed the trigger. Then.....

Nothing happened. There was no sign, no phone call, no celestial voice, no thunder clap, no misfire. I just sat there. Then I pumped the shell out in my hand and tossed the Zoloft in the garbage. Day by day i felt better. My bottom had always been way below the sub-basement. Could this have been it? I needed a project and found it by writing an outdoor column called "Out of the Woods" for a local newspaper- The River Reporter. Expanding my "hunting as art" work, I applied for my NYS guide's license, and in the winter passed the test. This brought the missing performance element into the series. I was far from happy, but at least i was able to function. Y2K came and went and no planes fell from the sky. In the summer a beautiful Persian kitten showed up on my doorstep. I named him Monkey Balls. Then JW's old girlfriend Friendly called and asked if she and her husband Jeeves could come up for the weekend. Why not? I could use a little company.