Ba-Dump, Ba-Dump, Ba-Dump

It’s been another long day. BOB’s still having night terrors. It makes everything more difficult, health wise and emotionally, when I don’t sleep well. I kept thinking that once I had a good “bank account” of decent sleep I could work off of it if I had a rough night here or there. NOPE.

Today is leaving me a bit downhearted yet hopeful, just in different areas of my life.

I have another 7 day heart monitor on and, yep, still allergic to whatever adhesive they use. I was really nervous about it all morning but a swift kick in the ass from my amazing stepmom, which was exactly why I contacted her, helped put me at ease by getting me out of my own head. I’m starting to recognize that downward-spiral starting more and more. Whether it’s the seizure medication or the heart medication or what, who knows at this point, but something is helping. Hopefully, once all this “trouble-shooting” is over we’ll know what the root of the issue is. My biggest concern is if/how degenerative the issue may be and if it might be genetic/given to my children.

Another difficult part of the last day and a half, specifically, was the “typical” physical and emotional detoxing ChaosMonkey does when he gets home from his dad’s. Today, it was a bad attitude, negative comment, or straight up mean/overly physical response to everything. After stepping way out of bounds when we got home we had a swift and serious discussion about what his issue was and how, given when and how often it has been occurring, what he, myself, or we needed to do to help him. He is hesitant to do anything progressive… given the range of emotions that went over his face, however, he knows what he doesn’t want to discuss and/or face and, obviously, doesn’t want to discuss and/or face. *Sigh* It’s that “you can lead a horse to water” thing all over again.

On the upside, after speaking with the Hubby, it sounds like the guys he’s under have no idea what they’re doing in relation to time off for Christmas. He might have the opportunity to come home for Christmas! Yay! His mom might even be willing to help fly him home so we could actually spend it with him.


Today is One of Those Some Days

Singing Through The Rain Picture Courtesy of WWW.SingingThroughTheRain.Net


Some days are hard. Then some are harder.

Today is a hard day; a cry yourself to sleep smelling his pillow, feed the kids fruit and goldfish for dinner, and eat chocolates in front of the television day. Not that I’d let myself do… all… of those things… at once…

I married a military man. To put it simply, I am the contracted mistress and breed mare to a man first and foremost married to his country. I do not mean to minimize the importance of this role. It is, in fact, my honor to hold such a title as Military Spouse.

When he is gone, one of the best parts of our family is missing. There’s something about the way our family works that holds with the idea of a family tree. The underlying strength he supplies us all with, the nourishment and shielding I add to that strength, our children who blossom and grow into fruits that will sooner or later fall away from us to either thrive or whither on their own.

There is something about the good memories that bring my heart, trembling, to it’s shattering point only to pour molten tears down onto it, welding it back together stronger than it was before. I may not feel that strength, and it takes time to heal, but with proper care and loving intentions, I’ll come to see it for what it was and is.

My family is broken, but it is those broken pieces that are spread over land, air, and sea protecting this nation.

Please, keep that in mind. Please, do not dishonor the sacrifice my family, my children, are making for you to be free. Please, strive to behave in a way that says “thank you” instead of “fuck you” this holiday season, or any other season.

Literary Lion Writing Prompt: Ice

Trying to get caught up with some writing prompts from the fantastic Literary Lion. The writing prompt I’ll be addressing here in 400 words or less is Ice.

Sally Hanreck Photography

The Shattered Iris

Gardens are so mercurial, temperamental; even in the winters… and it was always winter here. It was a blessed sort of hell for the research my team and I were trying to accomplish.

We were supposed to create a flower that could survive the cold, the snow, the ice.We were failing. Had failed. The garden I kept was my only comfort in this desolation.

I had kept it in my room, at first, an Iris. She was a beautiful sort of flower. Delicate in her beauty and resilient in her strength. She had been my inspiration through all the frustrations.a

When worse came to worse I converted the hydroponics works into a sort of open air greenhouse. Safe from the wind but frozen like outside.

No one understood. One by one, they left us. I was so close, I knew it. I had to keep trying, keep testing. My beauties weren’t ready for the winds yet… but… they were withstanding the cold without shattering.

I only had one chance left before I was out of test subjects.

I walked slowly back to my room. There is a price for science and I cried while I paid it; bagging my beautiful Iris, filling the bag with a warmed gas to keep her petals supple while I wheeled her down to the test area.

An eternity later I gazed at my specimen’s test results. All readings looked hopeful. I had done it. We had done it. My beautiful Iris lay living, not dormant, beneath the layers of ice. Nothing had cracked, nothing had shattered. She lived and could move, could bend when the winds caught her.

My Iris swayed on the table as I touched her, my gloved hands trembling. Beauty, finally frozen in time, alive.




Standing at my door
Throwing pebbles at my window
There and gone
Come back
Stay away
Remind me
Make me forget

Only in the dark
Peak at me from the past
Whisper to me you’re still here
Tell me you’re not gone
Things I wonder or know
That I feel kisses in the breeze
During nights I’m alone
In my own company

You are my lights
My beautiful night sky
The patterns of chaos
Panning out into order
As understanding dawns
Upon the small and blind
We are immeasurably alone
Yet, somehow, connected
As we shine upon each other.

A crinkle for you, and a crinkle for you…

I fell like my entire existence has shifted ever so slightly from the reality I thought I lived in. Since “the episode” that I was told was probably a seizure I have had a handful or two of tests and referrals for other tests. Turns out, I have probably been having small seizures for quite a while… since I was a kid if not my whole life kind of while.

It seems my mother’s term “artistic personality” is slowly being transformed into “seizures” or “epileptic activity”. There is no familial history of seizures neither side… or so that is what I’ve been told when I asked. Other than my cousin, that is… but he’s kind of a special case, the kind that has spent more of his life in hospitals than out.

I’m experiencing a combination of out-of-boniness and life-passing-before-my-eyes these days. I’ll be in the present, then be reminded of something that happened years ago, something that was “artistic” or “just me being me”, and I wonder… was that another “episode”? The sudden loss of balance while standing still, the inability to walk in a straight line, my body’s sensory overload that allowed me to navigate so many situations while blinded by allergies, the times my body just quit on me and my muscles just ceased working and dropped me to the ground… the constant low grade dizziness that accompanies me while writing “in the zone” during stream of conscience pieces…

It just keeps going. That’s what my mind does, it takes a moment in time and spins out entire what-if universes baSed on how things could have gone.

The moment I keep coming back to is when I was late for school in second grade. There were stairs and stairs I was running up, all alone after the bells had rung, when all of a sudden my leg just went away… it was only for a second, but… my mind keeps going back to that moment that I didn’t give a second thought to at the time. It barely registered, actually, as if I could barely remember it at the time even, I just got up and kept going, like I did so many times after that. So many things I ignored or didn’t fully register… but I keep going back to that particular moment.

I feel like I’m slipping out of my mind just thinking about it all.

Is my creative just synapses misfiring? Are my insights and connections just the culmination of a short-circuited, malformed mass of a grey Tesla knock off?

And… do I care? While… it is unnerving to think that my mind could basically be the result of a lifetime of electrical mistakes, what is life if not an ongoing process of learning from one’s mistakes? Is any piece of art perfect or is it the completion of an idea grown with both structure and errors melded together melded together into something beyond the original conception?

My brain may very well be misfiring, and may have been my entire life. That doesn’t make me any less me. The person I might have been doesn’t matter, the original design was a springboard for who I would become with and without my individual choices. Who I am today is merely a springboard for who I am tomorrow.

And you know what? Tomorrow may be harder. Tomorrow may be better. I don’t know. I don’t have any idea. But! Even if my doctor(s) knew what was going on and we had a plan of attack to cope/treat whatever it may be, it wouldn’t matter.

Tomorrow may be harder. Tomorrow may be better. Not one knows. The allusion of control that “knowing” gives us is a frail thing to hold on to, it’s a mirage we grasp at today in hopes that we will have something solid tomorrow.

What will be will be but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to fight to make it the best I can. What will be is a bigger version of what I’m looking at in the mirror every day; a gran piece of art that is an enmeshing of what is within our control and what is without.

I will not relinquish my part of that construction. I will take my mistakes, I will take my talents, I will take my misfires, and my choices to struggle as strongly as I can towards a beautiful completion.