Stories - FD Thornton

  Some days are diamonds and some days are stone—that’s what I’ve heard my whole life. My parents were often too busy building for tomorrow or for themselves to really shape who I was. That job ended up being finished by my Grandma, my friends, and even my supposed enemies. The last few weeks have been a trial for me, between the stress of the surgery, the adventure with the fridge, and the malfunctioning of the fire alarm. Life seems to have handed me one stressor after another. My oldest child and I often just recognize it as our run of luck, where a few good things come our way only to be snatched up by an even longer run of bad luck. But inside, I still try to keep in mind that despite how much life mistreats you, you should never mistreat it. For years now, I’ve kept online relationships with a randomly chosen few people. It’s not like we have anything in common; it usually started with me or them admiring the work of the other. Recently, one of those friends was strugglin...

  To understand love, first you must learn to understand yourself. Looking back at my earliest memories I remember the emotions of joy and laughter. As I dig deeper though, I find emotions of being tolerated and ignored. Most of us I’m sure were given a little bit of both, much like a blended cotton shirt. A sturdy 80/20 blend with strong roots in faith and a little mental neglect sprinkled in for stretch. I suppose the main thing is, what parts stand out the most in your mind? Now I’m not making light of mental health struggles, cause Lord knows I’ve had my share. For nearly 30 years I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD, GAD, PD, and a host of other letters. I’ve spent nearly half my life focused on the causes and trying to get better. Funny thing is even with all that planning; I only made baby steps in my recovery. The one thing I now realize through all my searching is that, without taking a compassionate look at yourself, I never found peace. When understanding love, we first hav...

  Sometimes it feels like all is lost. So often we amplify the responses in our heads with the worst sort of things. The car breaking down and not having the money to get it fixed. The light bill is past due, and the fear of having the electricity shut off. A pencil breaking in the middle of a test, all sorts of things. And for the moment, we panic not knowing what to do.   Funny because I’ve lived through each and every one of these situations in my lifetime. Cars breaking down on a lonely stretch of road, on the Interstate with the kids in tow. The power getting shut-off multiple times in the summer, winter, and fall.   And with each of those times, it was up to me to pull up my “big boy panties” and get things done. You can ask my kids, although they may not tell you, we had it rough for a long time. But with each setback it made them tougher so they could face the roadblocks in their lives. Fortunately for us there wasn’t too many physical aftereffects, ps...

 I didn’t realize until this morning that we had two Friday the 13 th in a row this year. I knew something was wrong with this year; but that doesn’t matter, this morning it is sunny and chill and outside life is just humming along down the Golden Isles Parkway. Also with the light breeze I can smell the scents of Spring after the pollen got knocked loose. With its aroma of freshness  that Glade or Febreze can’t quite copy. I’m sitting here in my frumpy old baggy golf shirt and sweatpants. The obvious uniform of a retiree with little money for new clothes. But wearing these things brings me some joy in the fact that a mere 10 years ago, I stretched this shirt and these pants to their load bearing limit. And while I have gained a few pounds back, let’s say the digestive issues did their job. Other than that, I’m in a pretty good mood with the sun shining and the world not seeming to be too bad around here. But it’s easy to isolate yourself when you live in such a work-driv...

  Every morning I take a total of 18 different medications that I have been prescribed by six or seven different specialist. Some of those medications I take three times a day, others I take twice a day, while a few I take only once a day. If your keeping count, that’s a total of 31 pills a day. Most all of them are pretty essential for keeping me upright and operating fairly normal. I suppose I could look at all this tragically and feel sorry for myself. While I sometimes do throw myself a pity party, for the most part I take it all in stride. Seeing it as the price I pay for making piss poor decisions during my life. But I was the one that chose to do all that stupid shit. So it’s 31 pills and several doctor visits a year, plain and simple. But since tiptoeing to the edge of death, I realized I’d much rather live. So I’ve made most of the necessary changes I needed to keep my ass going. Spiritually speaking, most of my family and friends think I’m going straight to hell. And amon...

  Well here we are, trying to kick start yet another Middle Eastern War. All while we got our first Blood Moon of the year this week. No matter what side you are on in this conflict or rather or not you feel it’s justified over diplomacy. There is still innocent blood being shed on the ground. Yet I am more than certain Churches, Mosque, and Synagogues will be praying for their side to win. With a few scattered about ready for the “End Times”. I myself am just shaking my head that it has come to this, where innocent men, women, and children are sacrificed on the alter of old men drunk with power. Under the excuse of obeying God and/or distracting from the truth. Where is the God of Jesus, Mohammed, or The Toran in any of this? Blood has been shed and the majority of the people of the world are seemingly helpless to stop it. Revenge and paranoia are the words of the day. What has been started a thousand times before has been started again.   I don’t mean to ruin what is ...

  It’s a froggy ass morning here on the sandy hills of South Central Georgia, where the coastal plain meets the piedmont. I’m dressed down in my old Alamo uniform of sweatpants, heavy t-shirt, and sweat jacket. With the curtains pulled open wide to get the full view of the heavy froggy air. I’m surprised by how few cars and semi’s have passed on the highway. I guess everyone got an early start this morning just to beat the day. But I’m comforted by the distant sound of an ambulance, for the fifth day in a row. After a night of tossing and turning repeating the same dream about going to some conference with a Swamper I didn’t know, meeting his family, and riding on a dirty air boat. Yeah, that kinda dream. Anyway sitting here in the relative quiet of the morning, there ain’t much to say other than I have to drive 30 miles (again) in the rain. To have my bi-annual echocardiogram done at the hospital to see if I’m still alive. I suppose I could be a little pissy about having that ...

  I’m considering working on something new this morning, Considering I already have two stories completed and a poem waiting in the wings. But with me that happens every once in a while, where I got more energy than I need in the creativity department. Still I felt like working on something new, not that it’s the beginning of a great piece, just the same old talk about, talk about I usually spin. I got a doctor’s appointment in the early afternoon. A 30 mile trip (one way) through the construction zone know as US Highway 441. There I’ll meet with my Nephrologist NP, and she’ll let me know how my kidney function is going. She’s one of many specialist I’ll be seeing over the next few months, just to reassure me that I am alive. In case I haven’t figured it out yet. Next will be my Cardiologist NP, then the Tech that checks my defibrillator function. Then I have an appointment with my Cardio-Surgeon who will be performing another procedure on my heart. Then an appointment with my Op...

  I can hear what I can only describe as the theme to the Lion King bleeding through my study walls, as I was about to touch the keys of this keyboard. I don’t know if it’s a sign from God, or if Good Morning America is just trying to fleece another Grandma to buy Broadway tickets or both. But the sun is shining   just as bright as when that old baboon held up the lion cub. So who am I to say? I took a picture of myself this morning, than easily picked out every flaw I saw on my saggy face. My skin looks like loose fitting clothing on a skinny man. Although I’d much prefer being a skinny man with plenty of wrinkles. Then this once   fat old man wearing a loose fitting skin suit that still makes me look fat. But enough about me, how about you? Got any features you care to tear apart this morning? It’s funny how the ego and wounded self-respect turns most of us into our own worst critic. But such as it is with humankind, always comparing notes. Falling in love with some...

  With supper going and the window cracked open, I’m watching the sunset on another chilly day in South Georgia. I wrote a little story this morning but didn’t publish it, so after printing up about 50 pages of forms I need to fill out. I spent the rest of the day laying on the bed with a heating pad and comforter, doom scrolling the day away. Sitting here now, I swear I can hear kids out at the playground, but I may be wrong. It’s hard to tell with my wife’s TV blaring in the living room.     But such as it is in the life of a man on disability and retirement. Living on a fixed income with most of whatever I saved going to pay old hospital bills and for such luxuries as groceries. But I really don’t mean to be so cynical, it’s just a defensive posture I’ve developed over the years to protect my sanity. But given my history of mental illness, you can see how far that has gotten me.   I don’t mind talking about myself and my many faults, unlike a number of th...