Stories - FD Thornton

The pollen from the trees is giving my eyes a fit. The burning and itching wake me up almost as much as my churning gut. At the moment Momma Cat is demanding all my attention. Because she is literally pushing the phone away from my face. Despite all the lessons Mother Nature has taught me, I still find myself doing the night owl thing, while my wife is still in a deep sleep. I may never understand why I carry this burden of restlessness. Thinking back to my working years, I woke up a many a night solving problems that plagued my days. I suppose old habits die hard and trying to change now is simply a moot point. Still, we go about our days complaining about the things we’d love to change. But as time rolls on, the habits that have become second nature, only tighten their grip. We each have our burdens I suppose. So I’ve adapted my life to work accordingly. Some of my “positive energy” friends may view that as a cop out. But I prefer to think of it as compromises with ...

After a several years of speaking my mind, I feel myself closing back in. Like maybe there’s nothing more left to say. I see friends across social media moving on with their lives. Yet I feel awkwardly stagnant, sorta like that U2 song “stuck in a moment”. So I lay here hungry, but not passionate for anything. Just here, unsatisfied with whatever I see. Mood swings are all a part of my routine. Panic Disorder leaves me yearning for sameness, while my physical condition limits my reach. Expectations I placed on myself have slowly eroded to vague fantasies of some wishful grandeur. But I’ve learned better by staring into the blackness of 4am. I suppose I should end this pity party on a bit of a “high note”. I guess being honest with yourself is a lot better than lying to the world. And that silence is often your hearts way regrouping after a bad day. So I guess I’ll just continue to breathe and type my unfocused non-sense. For anyone that still has the patience to read....

The alarm just went off, time for my 7:00 medicine. It’s a routine I repeat four times a day. 14 pills in the morning, 2 pills at 3:00pm, 5 pills at 7pm, and for a nightcap 2 more pills. 23 pills in all, all created to keep me alive and hopefully keep me sane. I don’t mention any of this to brag or to garner any sympathy. It is what it is, me paying penance for my sins. Listen don’t be so melodramatic with your replies. It’s all just “tongue in cheek” around here. The fact is most of our troubles point straight back at ourselves. Oh I know some things aren’t are fault, but eventually we are the only ones that can correct it. I’m a survivor, I’m not planning on dying anytime soon. So I fight. I listen to my doctors, I listen to my therapist, I listen to myself. And none of these individuals want me to die. So I pop my pills. Oh I complain and I whine about it, but it is a fact of life. I think the thing that weirds me out the most, is watching someone die by a thousa...

Being out at the beach on such a grey blustery cold day, reminds me of the winters we would come here. Just the two of us and a rowdy pack of Canadians taking over the hotel. Sitting out in the freezing cold smoking cigarettes and our pipe around the pool. Plotting how we could snuggle cigarettes across the Canadian border and make a killing. All the while watching the snowbirds drive into and out of the frigid pool water. The sun’s finally broke through for a little bit, warming my bones. Lisa’s out on the beach picking up washed seashells from yesterday’s storm. There’s still a wind and rip current advisory out, so most everyone’s power walking or fishing. I can’t do any of that as much as I used to. Between the driving, walking, climbing stairs, and need for a nearby bathroom. I’m limited to just people watching and taking a few pics. But that’s okay, because I’m back home, on an island that I have been coming to since I was a baby. Sitting here looking out at the gr...

I’m currently abusing my daughter’s massage chair. Trying to ease my sore back and even sorer mind. I just got off the phone with my favorite government agency. Needless to say, I wished I hadn’t called at all. But with certain organizations you often have to stay on their asses in order to get anything done. I always thought of myself as a pretty fair and efficient boss. At least that’s what my evaluations would say. But the inefficiency of this particular bureaucracy staggers the mind. So I’m sitting here, the door closed, George at my feet, listening to the dull hum of these warm magic fingers. Hopefully easing away the droning voices of our governments finest. As everyone around me knows, I’m sick with allergies. Normally this only happens at the peak of the season. But this has been going on since February. I wrote recently about forgiveness and living in the moment. But what I want to speak of today is reality as compared to our dream ideals. From the bay window...

“Bearing scars from battles we’ve won and lost. We carry the pain of abuse we’d rather not discuss. Yet here we are, nothing like the innocence, but still carrying the flame.” Those are words I’ve written to a friend, a lover, and a sister. Someone bearing a load I cannot carry. But over the decades I’ve seen this woman beat the odds. Fight for family, listening to taunts and abuse no one should hear. I’ve watched time and disregard take away the beauty. Yet I still see the fire in those blue/green eyes. Only a handful ever understood she and I, but that’s okay. We moved far beyond those questions so long ago. This is just a word of encouragement. The only thing I’m any good at. Just reminding her, reminding you. That you will make it. Strength isn’t measured by wealth you accumulate, but in the love, we give to one another.

Anything else to Say? Is there really anything else to say? We spend moments, hours, decades dreaming of a better life. Yet despite our best made plans, we’re left right back where we started. I mean, I could lay on a big fat helping of gooey, sweet affirmations. But what good would that do; when you’re all alone facing your worst fears, without ever working on yourself? For a really long time, I schemed and made plans for my eventual success. But a great deal of those goals turned into nothing more than dusty bookshelves of positive affirmations. In my fragile mental state, I grabbed for any magic potion to make me feel better. But end the end, all I could see was failure and disappointment. That is until I learned to simply let go. While laying on a hospital gurney in an ER, my eyes began to open. For a number of years, I had practiced mindful meditation to relieve my Panic Disorder. I listened to the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh, but until then hadn’t grasped what he was...