I'm a frequent poster on a message board devoted to music (and most specifically, Irish whistles,) but much more than that, it's become an online town-square
of friends who come to shoot the breeze.
Two years ago Jeff, my husband, had been "different" for a couple years, but I hadn't yet succeeded in getting a definitive diagnosis.
Not wanting to be too needy, or too revealing, I posted the following story in December 2005. It generated some helpful and interesting responses from my online friends.

I know that you folks will "get it" right away:


"I’m not sure who’s pouring tonight, but we all know it’s the barkeep's reluctant obligation to provide counseling for nothing more than a chintzy tip. It is, of course, always appropriate for nearby patrons to chime in with their own two cents where applicable.

This story is called The Game:

I spent 20 years playing a lovely game of Parcheesi. Sometimes I stunk at it, and sometimes it was so aggravating I wanted to throw the board across the room, but all in all I loved it. Each day just knowing that the game was there to be played was the serotonin boost my brain needed to love life. Nevermind that we lost the playing tokens and had to use dried up raisins and sewing machine bobbins to mark the spaces, nevermind the roof leak that washed all the color off the board and we had to fill it in with magic markers. Parcheesi made it all worthwhile, and I looked forward to many more years of the game.

Then something kind of bad happened. The top couple layers of particle board, for some unknown reason--acid rain, cosmic radiation, who knows--chipped off about 3 or 4 years ago. The game became unplayable. Interestingly, it turned out that there was a rather boring and simple little version of Chutes and Ladders remaining on the game board after Parcheesi flaked away, and that’s the game I’ve been playing for the past few years. It’s worthy of note that this version of Chutes and Ladders does not feature smiling children. Instead, their faces are rather glum and monotonous and the game board has faded out to a sort of bluish-green.

This game board, though not what it once was, contains what’s left of the essence of my beloved game of Parcheesi, and I am committed, by deep magic, to play it until it crumbles to dust, Chutes and Ladders or not. Attempts to brighten the game with markers, or add interesting details to it, end in a disappointing fade to status quo. Naturally, I often can’t help looking with envy at other people playing lively and engaging games, but, as I’ve said, I’m committed to playing mine, and recognize that whatever delight I once derived from Parcheesi, I must now find in other non-game interests, such as skeet-shooting and smoke-signal generating.

What does it take to contentedly play Chutes and Ladders when the scruffy gold edging on the sides of the game board remind you that it used to be Parcheesi? A deliberate attitude, and a positive new philosophy.

Where have you gone to find your new ones? (Attitude and philosophy, that is!)"