Stories - FD Thornton

I moan for restful nights, but life gives and it takes. I suppose the last stand for my fear is the darkness. Taking the breath from my body is fear’s final resting stop. I suppose that’s why I write with such great voracity. Fearing that at any moment the whole thing will end. My family tends to get a bit upset with my obsession with death, but I can’t help it. Because beneath this veneer of stability lies a person who feels the clock ticking. So I can’t help but think what I’m saying now may be the last. You may think that staring at fear so many times numbs you to it. But within us fear is a powerful thing. It seeks new and different ways to creep into your consciousness. You might defeat it in one area of your life, but shortly after it shows up somewhere else. I like writing about my fear and the things it does to me. The way it makes me feel. In a way it gives me power over it. A sense that despite my physical and emotional state, I still have control. At this moment the tu

Sometimes even under the best of circumstances we feel like failures keeping parts of ourselves close deep inside never to be revealed. I know that within my self I have secrets and painful emotions still, that are not ready for the light of day. But that is alright, each heart has pain and misery that is much too difficult to express. Things we cling too like poisoned jewels. Toxic yet precious somehow. Our very nature keeps us from trusting everyone. And in this world of light and show, where we all want to put our best foot forward. There are things we don’t dare to say out loud. Things we should work on alone within our own minds. Darkness often consumes me at moments of weakness. My mind has a tendency to go places I fight not to go. Yet here I am, wading through the muck of another flooded mind. I wish I could cheer you up with some line of hope or inspiration. But there are sometimes days of overwhelming misery in each one’s life. This week will be one of me. Painfully, it

On a dead end street, three houses on the right sits the tiny three bedroom home where I grew up. Not long after my sister was born, my parents took out a $54.56 a month mortgage on a cinder block tract house at the end of South Chestnut Street. The house it self was less than 1200 sq. ft., okay for a family of four with two small kids. But as the years wore on it’s hard to believe we all fit in that tiny space. The house got even smaller with the addition of our baby brother, leaving five individuals to live in some pretty cramp space. Our sister of course got here own room, leaving me and my baby brother to share a room. We had one bathroom to share, a kitchen dinette, a living room, and a small hallway closet. Needless to say, that left us kids with two spaces to call our own, the yard and our dead end street. Understand way back then there was no internet, no computers or smartphones. We picked up only three channels on our one black and white television. There was one house p

I look out my window and I see the morning coming to life. And I have to wonder, where am I in all of this? We live in our thoughts with the ability to reason and plan. Yet the burden of this is the weight of worry, of wonder, and of dread. But looking at the world in this moment you are living gives you power. Power to change your tomorrow’s and forgive your past. It took me a really long time to grasp that concept, that this moment is all we can really change. Looking out my office window the world turns beneath my feet. Clouds move across the sky, and somewhere other than here the world sleeps and the world rise’s to anew. It’s so much more than just us. Yet it is I that is that focus of my thoughts. Take a moment to look beyond just yourself. Think of those that surround you, those you love and those you don’t know. Life is a never ended circle that spins on itself around a star. Think of yourself as one of many that make up the fabric of life. Then look at yourself as the on

Some mornings just aren’t that great. I had a good six hours of sleep last night, but woke up feeling tight. I’m not super uncomfortable, but my chest and gut are tight. So at the moment I’m just waiting for the medication to kick in. I really don’t like talking about my physical condition, it tends to worry people. But I’ve noticed when I do talk to myself, it tends to ease the stress that is definitely a trigger for my anxiety and ultimately my physical pain. My panic disorder usually expresses itself through health issues. Worrying about catching my breath or a tingling in my chest can trigger all kinds of “what if” scenarios in my mind. It’s a vicious circle of physical and mental signals that can make for a fairly uncomfortable life. Often I calm my mind by reasoning with myself that it’s just the panic kicking in. I pay attention to my breathing, and I listen to the fear that is welling up inside me. I have discovered through mindfulness training that listening compassionate

What is love? Is it sacrifice or a need to give? Can it be just a connection or a point of contact. A place where two souls exist as one. We often speak of our love, but it’s unexplainable really. Two souls with lives of their own, lost and unfulfilled by what they see around them. Until that moment, that connection, deeper than any physical act. It’s a bond that defies explanation, to the point that where it even leaves us confused. Throughout my life I have seen acts of love. I’ve watched love grow and I’ve watched love die. What we have is more than a passing infatuation or some unfulfilled fantasy. It’s a bond that has shaped us in ways that has literally changed our lives. But how were we to know that love would bond us the way that it has. That whatever came afterword’s pale’s in comparison. All I know is how I feel. Is it wrong to feel a bond this strong, that on the surface people would see it as crazy? Yet between you and I, it’s the most natural thing. No one may ever u

Through the lens of mindfulness and love I see through the eyes of our soul. Behind the beauty, I see struggle, I see pain. And I can’t help but wonder what put that hurt behind those eyes. - FDT Recently I was looking at some images of a friend. Behind the promotional shots and images of creativity, I could not help but see the sadness in their eyes. I know I shouldn’t pry into someone else’s thoughts, but something within me cannot help but worry and sympathize about the situation. I suppose that comes from all the dark times where the only person I could count on was myself. For so long no one knew the hell I was going through. I internalized everything to the point where it nearly killed me. That explains why I am now such an open book, which means I could never run for public office. I empathize that we are a tribal people, we developed over the millennia into a society animal. That is because our ancestors realized there is strength in numbers. To assume we can make it on

I look out across the water and I’m reminded of days past. Of hot summer afternoons, sand gnats, and swimming to the sand bar. I ask myself where have I gone from there? What have I learned?I suppose I learned what giving really is and how to look beyond my own selfish needs. How to care about others and how to be a good friend. Nothing just appears out of thin air. Knowledge is passed on to us from those we observe. For me school was sitting around the kitchen table or hanging around under the mossy oak trees. Swatting sand gnats like a barefoot as a river rat. I was born an observer, a watcher of the stories around me. I remember the lessons, the sermons, the confusions in the night. The emotion, the pain, and the joy. The fear, the ignorance, and the regrets. Time is never kind, it simply moves on. Burying it’s dead and giving birth to new life. Never giving a second thought as it slowly matches on. You can’t simply bury the past, you learn what it teaches and move on. Passin

Flower Among the Thorns I don’t want to say I woke up in a lot of pain. But I have a pinched nerve located between my shoulder blades that decided it wants to hurt today. And for some damn reason my heart wants to beat funky. Don’t worry that usually goes away on its own. But it’s the pitched nerve however is causing the most discomfort at the moment. We all have our troubles, believe me I know. I suppose more than anything it’s the way we handle those troubles that’s most important. I think my Grandma Geiger taught more than anyone how to carry myself when troubles strike. The older I get, the more I understand the effort it took for her to face the physical pain she went through everyday. Like myself she was diabetic, had heart issues, and suffered from the lasting effects of smoking and obesity. Yet my Grandmother hardly faced a day without a smile. And no I’m not talking about the one of those fake smiles. She had a general positive attitude about life. Now I’ve seen her cry