Tossing Salt Presents:
A Day of Dougie
ANGER
DougMaynard.com
Doug Maynard

Someone asked me, “How you feeling? And I’m not sure how to answer. I feel nothing. My mind, my body, is numb. And the only emotion that I do feel is anger. Yes, I’m mad. I just don’t care about anyone or anything. I just want it all to end. The only reason that I’m not dead yet is that part of me doesn’t want to hurt Mom, hurt Kenneth, or leave Mouthie alone. I still care for them. But for myself, for the world around me, for the future and whatever it seems to hold, I don’t feel anything but resentment and anger.
Dougie died on March 16, 2026, when I had that stroke. Everything that matters, give me hope, that makes me the person that I have always been, that makes me Doug, died that day. It’s just that nobody has noticed or cares.

I have thousands of friends and followers online. This site was getting thousands of views and hits every week. And only two people have checked on me or made inquiries. To everyone else, no matter our pasts, our histories, the memories, I’m forgotten and just someone that they used to know. People I would do anything for, once the usefullness ended, or once I said no to being taken advantage of or used, no one cares. Yeah, that’s life.

And I’m here now. I can’t walk. I can barely stand up. My body hurts constantly, and my thought process is on the decline, as I slowly am going farther and farther into a mental decline. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. I’m not a threat to anyone, so no psych ward yet. I just continue to exist, go through the motions as best I can, and pray regularly for the Lord to protect Mom, look after Ken and the family, and that when I go to sleep, I won’t wake up. And regrettably, that prayer remains unanswered.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I’ve always worked hard, tried to do right, looked out for everyone, and thought I was doing okay. And now, the body is quickly falling to pieces, the mind is not as it should be, and it’s all just been a total waste. What’s left? Nothing. I’m alone, all alone, and I just don’t care.

I’m mad. Mad at my body betraying and failing me. Mad at my mind, slowly comprehending everything, but unable to find the answers. Mad at the things I can’t do anymore. I’m mad at being alone. I’m mad at the things I can’t do. I’m mad when people try to help. I’m mad at needing help. I’m mad at losing my independence and freedom. I’m mad at being still alive.

And I’m going to bed now, again for a few hours. I just heard Mom move in the other room, so soon, she’ll be in here. She tries and means well, but it’s all pity and condescension. She doesn’t live in reality anymore, not fully, and I can’t deal with this. So, I’ll head to my room, listen to music, and pray for release from this hell on earth I call life. And later, when I have to pee and can’t lie there any longer, I’ll be back. I may feel better then. We’ll see. I’ll talk to you later.

And now, it’s early afternoon. I feel somewhat better, although this morning did have its moments. I didn’t wait long enough, and Ma was still here when I came out of my room. And I don’t use the microwave correctly, nor do I know how to wash clothes properly. And WE eat too much bacon because her legs are swollen. I can’t even remember the last time that I ate bacon. But since I eat so much bacon, it’s my fault that she’s retaining fluid. I was informed about all of this, plus the dog is “stupid”, and I need to make a doctor’s appointment. Welcome to my world, and this is a good day. Oy vey!

So, how the hell are you doing? It’s 1:00 am, Wednesday, and as usual, I’m sitting here at the computer, in the kitchen, fresh off a total breakdown and crying spell. And what set this one off, you ask? I watched a clip from Roseanne, where Jackie had to call and tell her mother that their father had died. Something that short and simple, and my mind bounced back to when my Dad died in 1996. I was at work, finishing up a third shift at Dairy Mart. My Mom called me at work to tell me, and I continued to work until Billie, my manager, came in. I told her when she arrived, and then she sent me home. I haven’t thought about that in years. But tonight, it was enough to cause an emotional breakdown for a few minutes.

I’m thinking now how emotional Terri would always get, for no apparent reason, and I never understood it. I always felt that Terri was being a Diva and seeking attention, and to a point, she was. Terri has always been spoiled, manipulative, and loves to control the scenario. She’s just like Mom, actually. But the mood swings, the instant tears for no real reason, I understand that just a little more right now. To have endured this stuff, for nearly forty years, she’s far stronger and more resilient than I ever gave her credit for. She found herself a way to endure and survive. I’m not that strong. Not anymore.

I’m headed to bed. Have a great night. I’ll speak to you later.

Ubuntu!