Dementia and I are still going strong; we celebrated our 25th anniversary in October.
We are still living in the Waukegan house we bought in 1992. The parts of it that are Dementia's responsibility (most of the interior) are well maintained and homey. The parts that are my responsibility are gradually becoming shabbier. This should surprise no one.
I have been working at the same job, baby-sitting Windows servers, for eleven years, though two promotions, two relocations, and more re-organizations than I have bothered to keep track of. It is reasonably lucrative and tolerably unpleasant. It is a reasonably pleasant cage, but still a cage, and so far inescapable.
Between 2003 and 2006 I had the best interlude of my life. I learned that the monsters in the back of my skull can be bought off fairly cheaply, and we had enough money that I could do it. I was as close to being generally happy as I have ever been. Unfortunately, Dementia's job was dragging her steadily downward. Both of these trends ended abruptly in December of 2006, when Dementia's job was pulled out from under her. This wiped out nearly 40% of our household income. Since then, our household cash flow has been consistently negative, though our net indebtedness has also been going down. Dementia is significantly happier than she was when she was employed. I have no talent for happiness and don't really expect it, and so far I am managing to hold the despair at bay. So far.
I have been seeing a LOT of movies, lately, by way of keeping the monsters at bay; I saw something like 175 last year. I suspect it is cheaper than "professional help", even if I were not immune to such things, which I unfortunately am.
And then there are the boats. I have been under a geas, since some time in the late 90's, to someday cross Lake Michigan at night under sail. The day grows closer. In 2004, I bought a 16 foot fiberglass sloop, a Rebel. It is a bit big and clumsy for me to single hand, and I am very much a single handed sailor who doesn't get along with motors. In early 2007 I bought a sit on top kayak, and learned to my chagrin that I pretty much hate paddling. And then in the fall of 2007, I picked up yet another boat, a fifteen foot homebuilt plywood catboat (vee-bottomed centerboard gaff-rigged catboat) that I LOVE. In 2008 I spent more time sailing than in the previous 25 years combined; in 2009 I more than doubled that total. This year, I hit the water for the first time in March.
As I get older, I watch the world close in on me, and gradually watch my dreams die. Last year, for instance, I pretty much quit thinking of myself as a writer. The dreams I refuse to let go of, the ones that keep me alive, pretty much all involve sailing. The road has a long way to go, yet, and who knows? The horse may yet learn to sing.