Day 28: When the night comes, I tremble with fear.

It is pretty obvious at this point I am going through some things. Most of them are in the deep caverns located only in my mind and others are out in the real world. Unfortunately I cannot blatantly say what either are. No, I am not considering suicide and no, me and Cal are very, very happy. I just go down a dark path every now and again. Sometimes I come back to the light a little quicker than others. This time it has been a hard and rocky road…if even it was a road, path, avenue, whatever.

Lately, I have discovered that when it gets dark or when it gets late, I become afraid. Not so much of the dark. I am afraid of sleep. Lets back up for a moment, shall we? As a child, I was always afraid of the dark. There were monsters in the dark. Even after my Uncle forced me to watch Nightmare on Elm Street II, I would not sleep with some appendage hanging off the bed or with the closet doors open lest something grab me and drag me away. As I entered into my teenage years, the whole “stay totally on the bed” thing remained but the things in the dark that scared me changed. I was afraid of some stranger waking me from my sleep. If I kept my eyes open in the dark, I would imagine horrible things coming into view and murdering me or dragging me off…half alive. Noises didn’t help. Shadows didn’t either.

Cal used to laugh at me and Number Twenty Two years ago. Both of us had the same habit. If we had to shut the light off and walk across a room in the dark, we would flip the switch and race across the room like something was after us. Thinking about it while not experiencing it seems crazy, I know but its not. I don’t know about our son but for me, it was a very real fear and it did not feel good. Your blood becomes hot as your heart races and forces it through your veins the very second the sound of the “flip” from the light switch would reach your ears. Fight or flight ensues and you take off running, trying to race darkness out of the room. Obviously one never wins that race because you are running through the room which darkness has already enveloped. Loser. Once you get to where you are going; be it the other door, the bed, the couch, whatever, the fear leaves you. Only, it is not so easily spat out. It gradually leaves. While it only takes a few seconds to return to normal, your inner self notes that it seems a great deal longer than that. Even after spending four decades on this planet and am fully aware of what can and cannot be in the room as well as knowing what will go bump, it still does not help. There are certain rooms that I will still flip the switch and run. Dark and I are simply not friends. We never have been. Looks like never will be. (Hrmm, maybe I will be forced to roam this earth forever, hiding not in the shadows but in the light. I wonder if this makes me one of the “angels” that play with babies when they are first born? Ah, I digress. That, dear readers, is a story for another day.)

Back to the dark.

I am not sure words would suffice to describe how I feel when the sun sets. Its primordial fear. Pure and absolute. I want to run screaming into the night and never return but where would I go and what would I do when I outran that fear? That is scary all by itself. I feel the blood rush through every single vein in my body. Almost like I am becoming self aware or something. My heart begins to race and then sets itself to cruise control until I am able to make myself go into a fitful sleep. Sometimes, I have a beer or two to help me become drowsy. Sometimes I take a migraine pill. (Yea, I have a script for these people, I am NOT a pill junkie.) Anything I can do to force myself to sleep. It is not that I am NOT sleepy, I am just afraid of what dreams will bring or what the last thought which enters into my head will be. I have been having very vivid dreams as of late. Most of them relate to my novel. That is ok, The really good ones stick with me and I get them on paper before they vanish from my memory but the other things are what haunt the voices in my head. Horrible, vivid premonitions. Evil laughter and murderous visions.

It is simply not fair. Sometimes I think, the fear of the dark is a cakewalk compared to this. Not only does it make me afraid of myself and whatever is creating this discomfort for me, it makes me sad. I find it hard to describe to my family what is going on and when I just refer to it as “whatever is going on in my brain” they just go “Oh, that.” Its alright. They are not being callous or cold. They are just tired of seeing me torture myself like this and want it to be better. Only, nobody knows how.

I am not one to go to the doctor for such things and I am certain they will just give me some sort of medication to “make it all better” but I don’t want to be medicated. I just want it to go away. Its like smoking. Just. Flippin. Quit. I know its hard. For me, even eleven years later, I still chew the hell out of a pen when we go on road trips. But I have not had a cigarette, have I? Nope. Any crutch or debilitating “feeling” is going to leave its mark on you. That is just life. You just try to live with it.

At work, when it gets busy, we all talk about “Once more….into the breach! AAAAHHHHGGGGGHHHH!!!!”  This is exactly how I feel with ever sunset. I don’t see it getting any better any time soon. Now that I have put this out there, I think I should take it like that. Face my fear. Fight it. Run into the breach, rifle above your head, screaming….into the night.

Out run the darkness. Face your fear. Grab it and make it yours.

That is the ONLY WAY!

What do YOU think?

Where is my beloved beach?

Most of you know I have been fighting a battle with depression and the jury is still out on which side is going to win. I am vehemently opposed to obtaining medication for this because I believe I can kick its butt on my own. However, sometimes I wonder.

I tried something different yesterday. I made myself get out of the house and go visit an old friend who was in town with her family for the weekend. It was nice to have a grown up conversation with someone who does not live in my home nor is not words on a computer screen. We talked in general about nothing as we watched the beach activity and looked out over the ocean toward the end or the world. While it was horribly hot, it was nice to be outside of my element even if only for a short time. It was great catching up with an old friend. I needed to be at the beach. I love it there. The smell of the ocean air, the sound of the waves and the beauty of the dangerous ocean. It has more power than anyone realizes. I am also trying other things. I am writing via snail mail to my lifelong best friend and it is exciting to wait for the mail and to write back and see how long it takes to get there. That helps too. (Teeny digression there. Yea, you didn’t know that.)

Unfortunately, I cut my visit short because I had hungry children and I knew I had to get home soon. I always have something to do that I will never get done because the inspiration leaves me when I start to see blue. (You know, you see red when you are livid. I see blue when I am down.) I didn’t want Mary to see me like that. So I left. That didn’t help my mood any. Instead of going home the way we came, I decided to give in to the boys request and we walked the beach back toward the house. I am happy to say they had a blast. I just felt worse and worse. I looked out over my beloved ocean and began to think of how the United States and other developed countries constantly send their street run off into the ocean and how dirty that makes the water at the sand’s edge. To watch people freely play in it. Hell, they may as well be playing in ditch water. I also thought about how careless people are in that they don’t take care of my beloved beach. They leave trash everywhere and really do not care that it affects everything. This made me sad because it is yet more evidence of human nature that fails our planet and fails our children. We fail each other as a people.

Then I turn inward and begin to think of personal things. How I used to LOVE the beach more than I do now. How it was a place of solace for me. I could stand at the edge of the tide and feel the waves lapping at my feet. I would look out as far as I could see and imagine falling off the “edge” of the earth and deeply breathe in the salt air and feel at peace. I would feel at home. For a brief moment…I would feel comfortable in my own skin. I would feel comfortable breathing and with Michele. Its almost elation. Once I began to think about how being at the beach used to make me feel. I stopped. I tried to catch that elusive moment of joy.

It eluded me.

The ocean seemed dark. The sky unforgiving. I felt alone.

I had to step back from that. I turned my attention to my boyz who were frolicking in the tied pools and having a blast. No video games, no money being spent for some overinflated attraction that is a disappointment. Just fun with each other and the beach. My beloved beach. That perked me up a little but I was still sad. (OMG did I just break down into tears right now while writing this!?)

We continued our walk down the beach and happened upon a festival that was going on for the day at the board walk. Once we got on the boardwalk, we listened to some music from a concert while we put on our shoes and refilled our water bottle. The band there played “Happy.” Maybe that was the world trying to tell me something. I took that as a sign and put all that mess behind me and we took the street which led to our house. Another sign was that we came across one of our daughter’s friends and he stopped and had a conversation with us. Polite and respectful teenagers always are a breath of better in this horrible world we live in.

Maybe I can beat this. Maybe my beloved beach will come back to me.

What do YOU think?

Observations about the blues

I have inexplicably been feeling mighty down over the past couple of months. It is the most painful emotion one can experience other than grief over the loss of a loved one. I have been lucid enough to notice some things and I want to share my observations with you.


Everyone has times where they feel blue for whatever reason. Most of the time, when you are sad, there is a reason behind it and there is a solution forthcoming. When you are truly depressed, there seems to be no rhyme or reason for it and you feel like a sloth. Not that you are lazy but it takes great effort and energy just to do ANYTHING other than breathe. If you are lucky enough to talk yourself into doing something, washing the dishes for example, it is an extremely long conversation with yourself that you almost do not win. Reluctantly, you get up to do the task. This can be something that you do every day or something that you have to do (like the dishes) or something that you enjoy doing as part of your routine (I love doing the family laundry.)


Even if you are lucky enough to get started, your follow through has deserted you and you probably wont finish the job. Like I said before, I love to do laundry and usually get it done in one day, amidst the other million things I do around the house. Because I have a big family, it does take about 5-6 loads to do everything and that is when I don't decide to wash the curtains and the beds too. Since I have been depressed, that same 5-6 loads becomes a never ending cycle of load after load after load. I find that I believe myself to have accomplished something when there is a mountain of clothes waiting to be folded (my favorite part) and I just look at it and become overwhelmed and give myself some excuse to walk away. Its. Just. Too. Hard.


So you are inexplicably sad, your follow through is shot all to hell and now the things that you loved to do before are just like....why?  Reading? Out of the question. Writing? You see how much I have done lately. Smiling? THAT hurts too much. Even if it is fake.


No wonder depressed people are so hard to console. Life just sucks and for no reason at all. I mean, my family is fine, job is going great, the bills are paid. My husband is happy. No fighting or arguing. But it hurts to just exist. Ugh.


I do believe, however, I am on the upside of this thing. I have never felt this way for this long before and I am not sure how to approach things. I actually got through 85% of the laundry yesterday before I decided I had done enough. Maybe things are getting better? In the mean time, I sat in my chair and actually cried for no reason. I was getting ready for work and started to bawl like a baby for about 3 minutes. Horrible. Horrible. Horrible. No reason, just seemed like the thing to do at the time.


What kinds of things have you noticed when you or someone you know has the blues.


What do YOU think?

OCD. It is in all of us.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Or Obsessive compulsive disorder. Or obsessive compulsive disorder.

I know that this is what some people would consider a disease.  Obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) is where someone constantly does some habit over and over again in an attempt to maintain control of the world around them. While that is not the standard definition, that is my layman’s take on it. I believe that we all are a little OCD about things in our lives. Some have OCD more than others.  I believe it becomes an issue or something that is considered wrong with the person when the world notices and becomes bothered by the behavior or the mere doing of the said behavior becomes so exhausting for the person doing it that they are unable to live a normal life.  For my dear readers that know how I love to have my nose stuck in a book, you can expect a story reference in this rant. You can pretty much bet it is also from a King novel.  “Ayup” as King’s characters often say.  You nailed it.

This one story in Just After Sunset was so obsessed with counting, touching, and placing things, that it became exhausting to even breathe.  Every step was counted and it had to be even numbers, every color, lines and circles of objects meant to ward off evil, checking and quadruple checking every lock in the house to ensure they were all locked.  Not THAT was exhausting just writing about it.  There is true OCD. Textbook even.  Still there are others that have it and can be noticed by those around them or have become so accustomed to the behavior that they can actually live and not let it overcome their entire being.  Psychiatrists would say they have a control on the OCD behavior.  Maybe it is something like washing their hands all the time or lining up a pile of something that is randomly sitting there (a pile of buttons, for example.) Even so much as to not walk on painted pavement or step over the cracks in the sidewalk.  Those are not so bad. Not so crippling. Maybe hurtful every now and again when the cracks are to infinite to step over or around or the whole damn parking lot is painted over…solid.  That could certainly lead to a bad day. I understand that.

However, there are even others who KNOW they have an OCD behavior but are not so overcome by the event that it is catastrophic if it is not done properly.  They do try to exude the same behavior whenever the need arises, but they are not stressed out by the fact that it did not go according to plan. Let me explain this one because I can partially relate.  Let’s say, for example, you have a bag of m&m’s.  There are five colors in said bag. (I know these are not the exact colors, this is just an example folks.) These colors are red, yellow, blue, green, and brown.  While sitting in a meeting, everyone has a bag of these chocolate covered bits of heaven to keep them occupied and awake during the most boring meeting of the day. Now, most people would either pour them into their hand out of the bag, pluck them out with pincher fingers one by one, or dump them on the table and randomly eat them.  Not you, no way.  There is a method to your madness.  You have to dump them out and either separate them into piles by color or line them up in straight lines by color. You always eat the browns first (your least favorite color.) Then proceed to yellow, red, green and the blues are always last.  Yes, because green and blue are your favorite, even though all the candies taste the same, you do this with every bag of m&m’s you have ever eaten. They are just better that way. 

Of course, the people around you notice what you are doing. But, it is not so bothersome that they stop what they are doing to gawk at you. Afterall, you are only eating your m&m’s and you are not too noisy about it. Maybe even the person to your left will lean over and say “OCD much?”  That is not going to bother you. You may even accidentally eat a blue one first. That is ok so long as there are still blues left for the very last.  This is not wholly life consuming, nor is it tiresome behavior.  It is just something that makes you happy for the moment and it is not taking over your life. Besides, next time, you will NOT eat a blue one by mistake before all the other colors are gone. It didn’t kill you.

Even further down the spectrum, there are ones who have some sort of OCD thing going on in their life and it may be so ingrained into them or such a valid part of their personality that nobody notices it. Even the person with the behavior does not notice it either. This is not as simple as putting your seatbelt on every single time you get in the car to go somewhere.   It is something like ensuring that your pen is sitting on your desk in the perfect spot while you are talking on the phone at work. It can even be that when you put your shoes on, it is always the right and then the left.  It is not a skipped heartbeat if it is not that way, just makes you feel better is all.

My query here is this:  What happens to people that makes them surge from the minor end of the spectrum that I just described to the other end where it takes over their entire being and they become so stressed about it that it simply wears them out?  It has to be some sort of experience that triggers the behavior for that to occur.  I can pinpoint what happened in my life that has me so off about mildew in the shower or anything but a pristine toilet.  But what horrible thing can possibly cause someone to believe that they have to have that sort of control on the world around them. So manic to the point that they have to continuously control everything.  It makes me tired just to think about it.  I can certainly feel for those people because living life to its fullest and keeping up with normal stuff can be tiring. Not to mention it also depends on how busy you are.   I think I am going to look into this further because I find the topic fascinating.

Am I sounding like a nerd?  Well, of course because (secretly) I am!  Off to the people that know about this stuff! I am definitely going to rant more about this topic. 

What do YOU think?

The Dollar as the Ball to My Chain.

I seen a picture on a friends Facebook wall a moment ago. It was an innocent picture of the back of a one dollar bill. However, there, someone took a sharpie and wrote upon it:

"I am only a piece of paper, yet I control your life."

Hmm. That is food for thought. (No, don't eat the dollar, it still buys a CAN of soda from the vending machine at Food Lion.) Yea, here I sit at a crossroads while I see that. Do I still look at the job boards daily, send out countless virtual resumes to HR departments that dismiss them as mediocre or overqualified or underqualified or for whatever reason? Do I keep looking for that golden opportunity when the truth of the matter is that money is the number one reason to accept a job anymore?

I remember as a kid, people spent 20-30 years at a career and never bounced from place to place because the "at will" laws were not as well known as they are today. It seems like such a tiresome dilemma. Companies want to pay as little as possible for qualified (or warm bodies) people to fill positions that people are looking for the highest pay they can get. What is the fallacy there? What happened to the best qualified gets the job and it is based upon ones experience and qualifications. There are no such things as careers anymore as people graduate from college under crushing debt with the hopes of getting the ONE job of their dreams that countless others are competing for. No one I know can be so lucky. Those people are only on TV or they know someone very influential that owes them a favor or two from back in the day.

That dollar is what motivates me to surf job boards not only for myself but for those I know who are in the same boat I was in when I got laid off. It hurts and it is about as dry and as fun as car shopping and I LOATHE car shopping. Nothing makes my stomach curl more than a car salesman (other than a shitty supervisor that makes me HATE a job I once loved....at......the......newspaper.) Ok, minor digression <----over p="" there.="">
The dollar controls us all in this awful economy. You can blame it on the government, you can blame it on the job market, stock market, foreigners, corporations, whatever. What it boils down to is outright greed. Remember the 30's when there was the "Great Depression" and countless so called rich people jumped out of windows to their deaths because they lost everything they owned. They didnt lose everything they owned? You cannot buy your own life nor can you buy your family and there is always this thing called starting over. Done that before. While it is not easy, it is a great learning experience that many people would rather not learn.

I witnessed that with a dear loved one that ended up being the Cracken of the human race. She married poor and became the queen of her own little world and when that magic carpet was snatched from under her, she blamed everyone around her. Including her children. Yes, I know that hurt and karma is a blitch and starting over sucks. However, if you play your cards right and not hurt those closest to you along the way, starting over can be an experience that will mold and shape who you are. However, that dollar bill has its grips around her. Quite possibly around her neck and will not let go. Yet, she is family and she has nothing else to hold on to. I just hope that she turns around one day and realizes that it is a learning experience and to pick up the pieces and make for the better. Nobody wants to be alone like that. We do not talk anymore because we are on opposite sides of the field but she is family and I do still care for her. (No, no sarcasm here folks. I am certain she will see this and rage and see blood run down the walls of her home. However, I cannot feed off that as I need to deal with my own and continue on. I will leave that to a greater power and let it be taken care of that way.)

Nobody should have to have an outlook on life that makes them hate every thing in life and depend wholly on the money in this world. When the world was created, it wasnt about money. What happened to it takes a village? What happened to the fact that status does not matter and that how we treat each other does? Sure, there is a cost to living in this world. But it is not the end to a means.

Rich people everywhere should take that into their inventory and reflect upon that when they have a minute free of their greed. Sure, it would be nice to win the lottery and take care of all the bills that I have and not have to worry where my next bit of grocery money is coming from. It would be nice to live in a Scarlet Ohara mansion and not live check to check. So, with that little dollar mentioned before, it is the ball to the chain that is on each and every one of us. Even our children. Some have 500 dollar bills (yes, they still exist) and some have dollars. Just depends on where you are in life.

Think about it. What denomiation is your dollar at the end of your chain?