Stories - FD Thornton

This is another freestyle so let's see what comes out day. Bear with me as I ramble on and see let's see what I'm really thinking on the fly. Thankfully, the weekend ended with some sports and I didn't have to bury myself in the heated debate that's going on everywhere. A lot of folks on the 24/7 news cycles tell us that the end is near one way or the other. I also heard that some hospitals are silencing debates by patients to keep stress-levels down. I cannot say that I'm immune from the stresses that this political season has caused. I'd like to say that things are no worse than in the past, but in this 24/7 information cycle in which we live it begs to differ. I believe the human animal is a very social, tribal creature. When times call for it we are very susceptible to mob mentality, which can either go toward the good or the bad. If you think about it this explains why so many subscribe to suspect or poor ideas about others. Critical thought can b

Good morning everyone. To be honest I slept pretty well last night, I got about 7 hours in which is really good for me.   As far as the other two or so hours I simply lay in bed looked at my morning paper and then sorta meditated. When I say sorta meditated I mean I lay there focused on my breathing and just relaxed. To say I was just going back to sleep would be a lie; because as I lay there I was very much aware of what was going on around me. I just let whatever thoughts were floating around drift away. That might not be meditation in the literal sense but hey it works for me. Another pleasant surprise I got this morning was Amazon KDP sent my payment from book sales and reading this quarter. It's not Stephen King $$$ but hey, at least I can say I'm a paid author. (Don't worry, I'm laughing too.) When you think about it when you are in stressful situations like we all are at this point. By allowing your mind to focus on the good things you see during the day

In my youth I rented a cabin on the Ogeechee River at an old fish camp. Compared to where I grew up it was light-years away and a hundred years back in time. But I was young and waited to be on my own and this offered me a place to spread my winds and drink a beer and smoke one without condemnation. When I first moved in I had a two-room cabin with a kitchen and a bedroom and nothing else. The bathroom as it were was across the yard and had two seats and a shovel. The shower if I remember right had no hot water, no roof and if I’m not mistaken was the shell of an old freezer. Although it was interesting to see helicopters from the nearby Army base fly overhead when the girls were showering or sunbathing. Despite the limitations of my accommodations there was a sense of freedom and community. It wasn’t nothing for me to walk over in the morning and visit the sage of the bluff, Aunt Bessie who in her 80’s would be busy sweeping the sand with a broom made of straw. I never real

If you’re like me then you’re one of a bunch of people that think too much. For a really long time I have been one of those folks that creates my own stress without even trying. The way I usually do that is by creating “what if” scenarios. What I mean is, let’s say I car is coming in the other lane sometimes my mind creates the scenario “what would you do if he crosses over the line?” Now nine times out of nine the car passes by me, but my heart would race and my hands would tighten on the wheel planning my escape route. This not only happens when I’m driving, it happens while shopping in a store, or even while walking around the block. What if scenarios for those of us with Panic Disorder are an everyday thing. Now medication helps no doubt, but for me the important part of my treatment has been the cognitive and internal therapies I engage in. For a long time I thought that I could will my way out of panic. What I’ve discovered is that no amount of will power is going to p

Our Little Country Home In the house I grew up in every spring and fall we had house cleaning. By that I mean bedding got a good washing, mattresses got aired out, and cutter was picked up and discarded around the house. When I was really young it also meant getting our dose of clean out remedies like a spoonful of Castor Oil and Turpentine, yes Turpentine. (Please note from my research Turpentine is not a recommended oral home remedy, although Castor Oil still is.) Despite forcing you to relive the God awful taste of those two products, the real point here is to talk about dust and clutter. The old home we live in is drafty to say the least, not as bad as the old Tarrytown home mind you (ask my kids), but drafty all the same. While it is a pain in the ass to heat and cool, it does allow fresh air to flow through the home. There’s something to be said about that; walking through most newer homes I’ve notice how stuffy they can be.  Being the product of my mother’s

Jekyll Island Georgia - FD Thornton 2011 When I first started this blog 5 years ago my way of doing it back then was to simply start typing and see what popped out. If you are a long time reading (Thank-you Bob, your checks in the mail) you can pretty much see how bad my grammar was (is) in those days.  But I like to think that I have matured along with my writing. Anyway, to honor those days I decided to forgo my usual worked out piece and go old school. So here we go. Towards the end of 2011 I was knee-deep working on my Bachelor's degree at the University of Phoenix. I had just finished up my Associate's degree and was ending a run at my last hourly waged job at a manufacturing plant in Dublin, Georgia. The job ended not by my choice but instead because the plant was shutting down to move overseas to make the shareholders an extra nickel per item. This happening to me was nothing new, years before I lost another job due to moving the job overseas. When I first moved my

If you know me well enough you know I’m a bit of a smart-ass. I have certain friends family members that if I didn’t “pick on them” they’d know I was either dead or going through a real bad time. With that said, I am learning, ever so slowly, to be mindful of my month. The reason is because words matter. I remember as a kid being a bit of an oddball or at least that’s I was told. For whatever reason as a child I seem to have a permanent “Kick Me” taped to my back. Each morning getting on the bus was a trauma do to some of the taunting I and others received. While I could go on about the damage bullying can do, I think my writing speaks for itself on the subject. What I discovered as I got older is that my sharp wit could get me out of some bad situations. So my years as a smart-ass were born. Earlier this morning I spoke at length to a young person on a forum site I participate in for individuals with issues like myself. Listening to his/her story touched my soul, because