I protest.

So who am I?

My name is Frank Mayhar. I'm a 43-year-old software engineer who recently was laid off by Wind River (you bastards!) and who is looking for work. I'm very happily married to a beautiful Chinese woman from HangZhou, China.

I'm smarter than the average United States President, apparently, and I don't buy the bullshit that the Bush administration is shoveling. I'm very strongly opposed to the war in Iraq and I'm even more strongly opposed to the erosion of our civil rights since 9/11/2001. I consider the so-called "USA PATRIOT" Act one of the worst, most unconstitutional pieces of legislation ever passed by a legislature in the United States. I'm also pretty angry about all of this, since it seems that the overwhelming majority of US citizens do buy the bullshit I mentioned.

It's pretty funny how quiet those who challenge me become after a couple of rounds of correspondence. It just shows, I guess, that the truth is the truth, and that wanting to believe something doesn't make it so.

Wanting to believe that Saddam Hussein had anything at all to do with 9/11 doesn't mean that he did. Even the liar in the White House can't bring himself to seriously assert that, although he has come quite close.

But enough about him, back to me. I have no particular faith, except faith in myself and my capability. I see no evidence of the supernatural and feel no need to invoke silly supernatural explanations of things that are obviously completely natural. I have become more and more convinced that we are, in fact, these soggy masses of tissue we carry around inside our skulls. It appears that all aspects of human emotion, thought and behavior can be explained by biological mechanisms. This isn't exactly a comforting thought, it would be nice to believe that when I die I don't just stop, but the universe isn't here to comfort me. It is as it is, and all I can do is accept it.

Speaking of acceptance, I've also had to accept that I will probably be on medication for clinical depression for the rest of my life. While this, too, isn't particularly comforting, the horror I experienced before I began the medication and psychotherapy is much, much less comforting. I was on a short road to suicide at the end of 1998 and my life was intolerable, unlivable. I'm still around because a clinical psychologist named David Van Zak saw and understood the truths that I was not at the time able to tell him. He suggested medication and he has continued to help me improve ever since.

I'm much better now.

A lot of the reason for my depression lies in my family history. I am certain that my father had clinical depression. He had been badly abused as a child, as well, then spent too much time in the military. He was not a father in any sense but the strict biological one. While he wasn't physically abusive (much), he was certainly emotionally abusive. As a child, I retreated into a state of emotional numbness and nonexistence. The really sad part is that while I could not avoid the biological propensity for depression, it didn't have to be expressed. As it was, though, my young brain was molded by those horrific experiences, leaving me in the grip of a disease I wouldn't wish on anyone.

My strength in those childhood experiences, and in the constant horror that was my adult life until a few years ago, was that I was determined. I was going to get through it no matter what. I really don't know where that strength came from, but it has served me well. Although recovery is often exceedingly difficult, I'm still making it. And now I have much too much to live for to slack off for an instant.

Why did I start this blog? Mostly so that I can write about what's going on with me. I've thought about it for a long time and finally decided that if I can do it without editing, without refinement or polishing, I will actually be able to do it. I am doing this for me, not for anyone else and certainly for the anonymous masses that might be reading these words.

Of course, it would be nice if someone got something good out of what I write here. I think that my experience is in some ways unique and maybe I can share that experience a little. And maybe someone will get some glimmer of understanding out of what I write here.

But really this is for me, not for you. I plan to let this thing absorb some of the internal pressure I feel. Particularly my anger and frustration at the current political situation. I also want to write about my depression from time to time, to get some of this stuff down in words.

If you're reading this, well, as I wrote in my description of this thing, I'm sure that there's some kind of treatment that might help with that.