Wednesday, February 14, 2018
Thursday, December 21, 2017
I'm Slipping...
December 20, 2006, Rodney and I would have been married 11 years. I did pretty good that day, until that evening. When I went home my mind started running through things as it usually does. I woke up the next morning and so did not want to get out of bed. I was very upset all day and did not feel like being social or doing really anything. I have a 3 day weekend coming up. Joy. 3 days for my mind to mull stuff over. I can hardly wait. I keep looking at pictures and I cry. I miss him more than I can ever say. I don't think I can really be happy ever again. A piece of me is missing. No matter how much I try, I am still existing and not living this life. I still see no future for me. I am nothing. I keep thinking about that morning again and things I should of done. I know, wouda, coulda, shoulda. I think I am slowly losing the fight with my depression, no matter how hard I pretend everything is ok. No matter how much I laugh and talk to people. I have this dark, empty void inside. I am so tired. Tired mentally, emotionally, and physically. I am back to feeling like I could sleep for days. My resolve and determination to do whats needs to be done and to continue marching on is slipping. I am letting things like bills fall to the wayside again. I'm back to I don't care. I am just so tired.
Sunday, December 3, 2017
Happiest Days?
We were sitting around a fire pit tonight. Some of my friends and myself. They were talking about what was the happiest days of their lives. I never said anything, but I was doing a lot of thinking. I think the happiest days of my life was when I was with Rodney. I tried to think of some other times that I was happy, but for some reason they eluded me. I know I had other happy times, I just cant seem to think of them right now. I seem to have lost a lot of "drive" in my life if you will. I feel I am existing in life, but not really living it right now. I'm just along for the ride. Going with the flow. It has came up several times that I need to find something I'm passionate about. I can't even enjoy the things in life I used to enjoy. How can I find something I'm passionate about? My life is moving forward, things are happening it it. Things I think are for the better, but I feel numb. I am not really happy or excited about it. I can see that other people are excited and happy for me, but I feel like my life is not real. Its just "there".
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
Downer
I was doing well today until I got home from work. I feel the emptiness and coldness of this house. It's in my bones. I miss Rodney very much. It still feels unreal. I still think at times that I'm going to wake up from this nightmare and everything will be ok. But it's not true.
Monday, November 13, 2017
I'M BACK!!
Well, I'm back. I couldn't get logged in for some reason, but problem solved!! Will be posting some more stories soon.
Monday, October 16, 2017
When We First Met (Scooter Stories)
Journal Article 14, 01/28/10
My mother and I were heading to the Westside YMCA. Melvin, the rugged looking reject from the Wild West days was meeting us there. He supplied the horses for the trail rides at the YMCA. He was a horse trader by profession, and the man whom we always bought our horses from because he gave us good deals and good, dependable, riding horses.
Mom had been telling me about this one horse that Melvin had shown her and she was very excited about him. She kept bragging about how good of a horse he was, and if he rode half as good, he would make an awesome horse.
Upon arriving at the YMCA, my mother led me down a dirt path that went behind the building, and which eventually led to a corral were several horses were milling about. I quickly scanned the horses and picked out a tall, beautiful, chestnut with perfect confirmation. I stated to my mother, there's a beauty right there. She said yes, but that's not the one we are looking at, it's that one over there she said with a smile on her face as she pointed.
I followed my mother's finger towards where she was pointing. The first words out of my mouth were "you have got to be kidding me". "Tell me you are not talking about the paint" I asked her. Yes, my mother stated proudly with the smile still plastered on her face. I looked back at the horse in question and thought to myself, that has got to be the ugliest horse I have ever seen (nor have I ever seen even to this very day).
He was not a very tall horse and he had an even shorter, compact body; he had big knocked knees, and even bigger feet. His mane was so unruly that it stood straight up from his neck like a Mohawk, or like maybe he had stuck his tongue in a light socket. One of his eyes was blue, and the other was brown. The "spots" on his body that supposedly designated him to be a paint horse, could not seem to make up their mind on what color they wanted to be. Other than the fact they were faded out, some were brown, some was almost a maroon looking color, and some were almost like a charcoal.
The icing on the cake was his face. From the top of his head to the end of his nose, his face bowed out and reminded me distinctly of a banana. The name "banana nose" zipped into my mind.
"Mom, that is one ugly horse, are you sure about this?" Yes she replied. She then spoke again and said "he looks like a mustang, he's not ugly, he has character". "Character" I said. I looked at my mother again and saw her still standing there with that silly smile on her face staring at this ugly horse. I knew she was already hooked, but by what, I clearly could not see. I looked back at "banana nose" and said he's definitely got something all right, not sure if I would call it character.
That's how Scooter came to be part of our family, and through the years by his various antics and mishaps, he showed me what my mother was talking about and proved to me that he really did have "character".
My mother and I were heading to the Westside YMCA. Melvin, the rugged looking reject from the Wild West days was meeting us there. He supplied the horses for the trail rides at the YMCA. He was a horse trader by profession, and the man whom we always bought our horses from because he gave us good deals and good, dependable, riding horses.
Mom had been telling me about this one horse that Melvin had shown her and she was very excited about him. She kept bragging about how good of a horse he was, and if he rode half as good, he would make an awesome horse.
Upon arriving at the YMCA, my mother led me down a dirt path that went behind the building, and which eventually led to a corral were several horses were milling about. I quickly scanned the horses and picked out a tall, beautiful, chestnut with perfect confirmation. I stated to my mother, there's a beauty right there. She said yes, but that's not the one we are looking at, it's that one over there she said with a smile on her face as she pointed.
I followed my mother's finger towards where she was pointing. The first words out of my mouth were "you have got to be kidding me". "Tell me you are not talking about the paint" I asked her. Yes, my mother stated proudly with the smile still plastered on her face. I looked back at the horse in question and thought to myself, that has got to be the ugliest horse I have ever seen (nor have I ever seen even to this very day).
He was not a very tall horse and he had an even shorter, compact body; he had big knocked knees, and even bigger feet. His mane was so unruly that it stood straight up from his neck like a Mohawk, or like maybe he had stuck his tongue in a light socket. One of his eyes was blue, and the other was brown. The "spots" on his body that supposedly designated him to be a paint horse, could not seem to make up their mind on what color they wanted to be. Other than the fact they were faded out, some were brown, some was almost a maroon looking color, and some were almost like a charcoal.
The icing on the cake was his face. From the top of his head to the end of his nose, his face bowed out and reminded me distinctly of a banana. The name "banana nose" zipped into my mind.
"Mom, that is one ugly horse, are you sure about this?" Yes she replied. She then spoke again and said "he looks like a mustang, he's not ugly, he has character". "Character" I said. I looked at my mother again and saw her still standing there with that silly smile on her face staring at this ugly horse. I knew she was already hooked, but by what, I clearly could not see. I looked back at "banana nose" and said he's definitely got something all right, not sure if I would call it character.
That's how Scooter came to be part of our family, and through the years by his various antics and mishaps, he showed me what my mother was talking about and proved to me that he really did have "character".
Saturday, October 7, 2017
What Is My Favorite Time Of Day?
When I was in college, one of the classes I had to take was Composition. I was so not wanting to take this class, but it was a requirement for my degree. I was even less enthused when I was sitting in said class and the teacher stated that we have to keep a journal, write in it everyday, and turn it in periodically to be graded. She said she did not care what we wrote about, but, sometimes she would give us something to write about. "What Is My Favorite Time Of Day" was one such subject. It was the 3rd entry in my journal, written in 2009.
What Is My Favorite Time Of Day?
The period just before and just after dawn is my favorite time of day. It is almost as if time is standing still. The quietness and stillness of the world at those times of the day are so amazing to me. You can almost feel the expectation and promise in the air of a new beginning.
Gone is the mad rush of people from one place to another, the chaos and confusion, the noise, the pollution, the crushing heat in the summer, even if only for just a little while.
It is a time for relaxation, reflection, and to sit back and enjoy nature. It is a time to listen to the morning birds and think of, and appreciate all the beautiful things that has been placed upon this earth for our enjoyment. It is a time to give thanks for those things in our lives that bring us pleasure and make us happy. It is a time of promise, a promise that this day will be better than the last, that with this new dawn we have a second chance, a new beginning.
Too soon will the noise come, the chaos and confusion, the unbearable heat, and people rushing to and fro without seeing or acknowledging you.
When you start feeling anxious and lost in the never ending sea of humanity, it is then that you can think back on that dawn and remember the tranquility you felt, and find that peace within yourself again to sustain you until the next dawn.
What Is My Favorite Time Of Day?
The period just before and just after dawn is my favorite time of day. It is almost as if time is standing still. The quietness and stillness of the world at those times of the day are so amazing to me. You can almost feel the expectation and promise in the air of a new beginning.
Gone is the mad rush of people from one place to another, the chaos and confusion, the noise, the pollution, the crushing heat in the summer, even if only for just a little while.
It is a time for relaxation, reflection, and to sit back and enjoy nature. It is a time to listen to the morning birds and think of, and appreciate all the beautiful things that has been placed upon this earth for our enjoyment. It is a time to give thanks for those things in our lives that bring us pleasure and make us happy. It is a time of promise, a promise that this day will be better than the last, that with this new dawn we have a second chance, a new beginning.
Too soon will the noise come, the chaos and confusion, the unbearable heat, and people rushing to and fro without seeing or acknowledging you.
When you start feeling anxious and lost in the never ending sea of humanity, it is then that you can think back on that dawn and remember the tranquility you felt, and find that peace within yourself again to sustain you until the next dawn.
Friday, October 6, 2017
Bad Day Today
Having a bad day today. Cried most of the way to work this morning. Was thinking about Rodney, I always think about him, but this time I was thinking about all the questions I had about what happened. Answers I want to know. Answers I will never know. I know it's crazy, but I wonder if he knew when it happened. It he is aware now that he passed. Does he know how much I miss him? How much I love him. Does he know anything? This is were faith comes into play. Your beliefs. My beliefs are shaken right now. I don't know what to believe. I am mad. Mad at God. Mad at the universe. Mad at the powers that be. I'm really hurting right now.
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