Depressed into the Mud (pity party)

I can't seem to get away from stuff, so I'm venting here, hoping it will help.

1. My friend who had the pancreas transplant is recovering very, very slowly and losing weight.
2. I have a friend with tracheal stenosis going in for surgery this weekend.
3. Another friend's mother has had a recurrence of her cancer and it looks like this may be it. They're going to sell their house, move into a rental, and devote as much time as possible to taking short road trips and doing all the things she likes. My friend and her mother are such *pals*--it will be so hard on my friend to lose her mom.
4. Yet another friend has a dog with bone cancer. He's had surgery and is now in chemo. She has the worst luck with her dogs of anyone I know. The one before this had mega-esophagus--she kept him alive 5 years through unremitting devotion and hard work--and the one before that had severe allergies and lick granulomas.
5. The house. It's pouring rain. I expect to find water in the basement. I was looking at the place last night--all the walls and ceilings have little cracks, I'm sure it's from the foundation doing whatever it's doing and compromising the rest of the house. All the windows need repainting and caulking. Storm doors, gutters, downspouts all need replacing. Bathroom needs a total redo (toilet doesn't work, floor is cracked, paint is peeling, both taps drip). Electric needs an update; none of the outlets are grounded, and the adapter for my laptop gets really hot if I try to use it in the bedroom; I'm afraid it will catch fire. All the exterior wood needs painting. The garage is falling down. How can I possibly afford to fix all--or any?--of this? But how I expect to sell it in such a condition? And then what? I move to another house and run it into the ground?
6. The van. This morning when I picked the umbrella up from the floor behind the front seats, it was already wet. I think there might be a hole in the floor back there. Rusting spots on the doors and near the wheelwells. Needs brakework. Has a torn something or other that's leaking fluid that I hope the dogs don't geti nto.
7. Dogs. They need a place to run. They at least need a couple of daily walks. They need training. I spend so much money on them. I can't live without them, but I don't meet their needs.
8. My friend whose son committed suicide. I know so well how you lose someone, and people are nice to you for a week or two, and then they go on with their lives and you're still drowning. I call her and send her e-mails, but I don't feel like it's enough, and I don't know what else to do. I hate to ask her to go to Springfield or Peoria because I always ask her to drive because of the van (see 6 above), and I don't want her to think I'm only asking her because I need transportation. But I'm ashamed to invite her to my house (see 6 above and 9 below).
9. The house. So much stuff, nothing filed or put away; it just accumulates. Between its physical condition and the clutter, I'm ashamed to have anyone come in; people must think I'm terribly rude because I never invite anyone in and always talk to them on the porch.
10. Fridge. Already sweating. It will never make it through the summer. I'll have to get a new-used one.
11. Iraq. I knew George was wrong to do this from the very moment he announced it, and it's cold comfort to find out I was right. All those people killed and maimed, and for what? Some guy's egotistical religio-oil-based machismo. Or maybe I should change that to "some guys'," plural--Cheney and the rest of the White House cronies are up to their necks in this. We've ruined the lives of the people in that country. It seems wrong to leave after wreaking such disaster and havoc, but don't we just make it worse by staying? Every time Bush or one of his buddies starts talking about the Iraqis "taking responsibility for their country" I want to smack him. They have such a different culture than we do; we can't make them over in our image, esp. if they hate that image. And all the families here who have lost kids over there for this stupid "mission." All the soldiers who come back maimed and traumatized.
12. Work. Maybe I'm depressed enough to start being paranoid, but I feel like nobody in the office except Mark likes me. Nobody talks to me but Mark. I mean, just talks to me. "Hello. How are you? How are the Ts?" And I can't get myself hired anywhere else. I've had 5 or 6 interviews, and not been hired. That adds to my paranoia--or perhaps, rather, my conviction that I'm pretty worthless. And to tell you the truth, I'm terrified about actualy being hired for a higher-paid position. I couldn't handle it when I tried for the English department. Maybe I can't do it even for a smaller department.
13. Retirement. Want it. Sicksicksick of working. Can't afford it. Will never be able to afford it unless I also work a part-time job of some kind. And the state of Illinois is dead last when it comes to funding the state workers' pension fund.
14. Weight. I've gained--well, I don't know for sure how much I've gained; probably around 40 or 45 pounds. I was a size 14 this time last year; I'm 18-working-on-20 now. And it's just plain flab--there's no muscle under there. Ugly.
15. Old. Ugly. Fat. Poor. Worthless. And guilty--compared to the problems some people have, I'm fortunate. How dare I complain?
16. Exhausted, physically, mentally. Can't deal with any of the above. Don't know how to keep going. Can't stand myself.

I'm really pinning my hopes on my trip to the hormone doc Monday. And yes, I'm about to call EAP and see about talking to someone. Not that I think that will help any. It never has before. I think one thing that would help is to someone who could help me weigh the pros and cons and do the figuring to decide what to do about the house and van. The dogs, I'm afraid, are non-negotiable. If I gave up the Ts I wouldn't be able to get out of bed. Even though I'm failing them miserably and they'd probably be better off somewhere else--Taenzer with someone who'd help her cand Timber in a family with *nice* pre-teen kids that would play with him and throw tennis balls for him and take him to swim meets and soccer games to be admired and petted.