Stories - FD Thornton

Sitting in front of my keyboard one of the things on my mind is how outside influences dictate our overall daily stress levels. Yesterday I went for a follow-up to my recent hospital stay. My regular physician was left totally out of the loop about what happened at the hospital. So while she was reading off all this really bad information to me about my reports from the hospital; what neither she nor I realized was she was reading reports from a year ago and not from my most recent stay.   Needless to say, I was stressing out. Because since my first stay at the hospital I thought I had been doing better. It wasn't until the visit was nearly over that I figured out she was reading my old reports. I can't really get too upset with her, considering I go to a pay-as-you-go clinic for those of us that can’t afford $1200 a month health insurance; besides the hospital sent her the wrong paperwork. So on the bright side suffering from Panic Disorder keep’s me hyper-aware of ...

  I've known from an early age, that I'm a bit of an oddball. For many reasons I was different from most of the kids in my neighborhood and believe me they let me know it. I’ve never been very athletic, well-coordinated, or even skinny; I was an asthmatic, four-eyed, fat kid, who was an easy target for the neighborhood bullies and bully-want-a-be’s. Oh don't worry Bloomingdale, I won't name names, besides most of you are dead or living in your own hell anyway. But I digress; the point here was to discuss my weirdness. For whatever reason I never seem to fit into any of the holes they tried to pound me into. I mean I wasn't a good athlete, a brainiac; or even the blind follower of a pure moral code. I just wanted to fit into whatever hole I could find. Desperate to make a friend or at least prove to myself I was worthy of a friend; I'd pretty much agree with whatever viewpoint I heard just because they gave a moment of their time. Smiling all the while beli...

As some of you may know my wife and I have a special needs child. Although it's kinda hard to call him a child considering he's now in his 20's. Our oldest son was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome when he was around 5 years old. He and I spent a week in Atlanta where pediatric specialist checked a number of things including hearing, vision, mental function, and the conclusion of their findings was Asperger's. So for the next 12 years and two rural county school systems, we have fought, worked, and went through more parent-teacher conferences than I care to remember; but we got through the public school system. I'm sure much to the relief of the Wheeler County Board of Education. I think what got me thinking about this was first the fact that I could hear our son through the wall enjoying himself in his room clapping and humming happily to himself. And second because, today I went through another interrogation session with SSI to make sure a ...

I'm sitting here thinking about how bad my posture is when I sit in front of this computer. I mean first thing in the morning, it's not so bad; I can keep myself upright pretty well. But as the day progresses my back and shoulders start slouching to the will of gravity and my own laziness. It's kinda silly when you think about it; I mean I sat through all the safety classes on the value of good posture. You'd think I'd learned something instead of taking a paid nap and eating their donuts. But that's the way it is with humans we learn best through trial and error. It seems no matter how many lectures I sat through with my parents, I didn't learn a damn thing until I screwed up. Life is a series of lessons learned, and most of the time the only way we learn is through mistakes. One of my major issues that brought about my panic and anxiety is the fact that I was ill equipped to handle rejection. I have such low self-esteem that the slightest tear at ...

FD Thornton 2016 It getting close to the end of the month and if you’re like me that means its slim pickins’ for everything from the pantry, to fuel in the truck, right down to how much toilet paper you got. But that’s how it is for the working poor. For a really long time I wouldn’t embrace the idea that we were poor. I remember my grandmother once telling during the Great Depression they were too poor to realize they were poor. I suppose you can take that to mean if poverty is a way of life, what other way do you know. I suppose you can take that to mean many number of things. Like if you’ve lived in abusive relationships long enough you tend to consider that the norm. Or if you have been called names all your life you tend to think that maybe they’re right and I am worthless scum. It’s pretty easy for us to be conditioned into thinking we are of less value than you really are. I think the difference comes when you see yourself coming from a comfortable life and then l...

For the last few days I've been checking social media and reading my friends and families posts about the Thanksgiving holiday. Most of the posts were very positive, some were funny and some reflective on the spirit of the holiday. Still I sit here in front of my computer screen not looking for any company or even planning a big feast. I don't want to sound like a Scrooge or seem bitter or even appear melancholy, it's just the way it is. When I was a kid I suppose holidays excited like most every kid. As I got older I think it was the idea that our kids were excited that pumped me up for the holidays. But for the past decade or so holidays and other celebrations just don't do a thing for me. I would like to pinpoint some specific reason for my attitude, but honestly I can't. It could be the mental health issues I deal with, it could be genetics, or it could be the medications I take in order to function. Thinking back my Mom would simply tell me to pray my way t...

Awaken again by my restless slumber I got up to pen a few lines about words to were spoken to me yesterday. Over the phone a person whom I dearly loved expressed their delight at the changes occurring in the country today. That it was there hope that the changes brought about earlier in the month would bring our country back to Christ. I remained silent as they spoke those words, because all that went through my mind was the hate and condemnation that was laced into those words of “Make America Great Again” . I am part of a group that honestly believes they are somehow blessed or special among the people of the world. Being white, male, christian, and of English-German heritage; despite my current station in life, I’m supposed to somehow be superior? My family comes from humble beginnings, on both sides of the tree my family were sharecroppers, farms, merchants, and laborers. If anything I suppose the one advantage we had was that we were white. But according to the way I w...