the great david letterman

in my childhood it was “M*A*S*H” (11 seasons) then it was “the cosby show” (8 seasons) “cheers,” (11 seasons) “frasier,” (11 seasons) “seinfeld” (9 seasons) and “friends” (10 seasons.)  because all of these live in syndication i’ve not missed them like i will miss david letterman. 

i remember at 9 or 10 years old, on those friday nights spent at my paternal grandparents’ house, getting up to watch while the rest of the house slept.  i’ve always been an insomniac and everyone slept too early for me so i would sneak out of bed at 11:30 with my brother and my cousins sleeping and turn the TV down real low, sit just inches from the screen and watch dave. 

 

i loved it:  larry bud melman and the man under the stairs, stupid pet tricks and paul shaffer, hello deli and biff henderson.  sometimes my brother got up to watch with me.  i loved that too.  i’ve watched dave for 33 years; i’m 41.  i’ve found myself crying every night as i watch his last season.  i cried with him after his heart surgery and i cried with him after 9/11.  i’ll cry with him tonight as he says goodbye.  i’m sentimental so my attachment to a person i’ve never met or seen in person isn’t that odd but because he's the man who made a scared, lonely little girl laugh every single night i desperately mourn his leaving. 

 

for an insomniac late night TV is a lifesaver.  when i was a teenager we didn’t have cable and we only got 4 channels, ABC, NBC, CBS and FOX.  FOX still went off the air at about midnight.  while dave was on NBC, and followed the tonight show, i had those 2 glorious hours to myself while everyone else was out or asleep.  he moved to CBS when i was in college.  i watched every night. 

 

i cannot imagine his absence.  i love stephen colbert and will watch his show but there will always be a part of me that mourns dave.

 

grace and peace and dave

 

 

5 years gone

imagine with me, if you will, something significant that happened to you in 2010:  a special birthday, an anniversary, a birth, death, a book you read, a movie you love; imagine all that's happened to you since then.  now imagine that every day of that time - since that one special day or one memorable event - you have had to relive not that special event but the worst thing that's ever happened to you.  for 5 years every day has been a constant reminder of the worst time in your life.

 

that's the only way i realistically know how to convey what PTSD feels like.  PTSD steals your life, it steals who you are and keeps your brain stuck in the most terrible of moments.  intellectually i know it's 2015 and not 2010 but you can't convince my heart or my gut of that. 

 

may 2 is the hardest day of the year for me in that the calendar is in line with my memory and my emotions.  it's about SO much more that one, long ago, may 2.  the date conjures the aftermath as well as the events of the actual flood.  it's not just the driving through water in my neighborhood and accepting that i would die or sitting on the side of briley parkway waiting to die after my car quit.  it's the shock, the visual of all my soaked belongings piled in my front yard, the cuts, bruises, scrapes, sore muscles, tears, rages, standing in line for 5 hours for a building permit, having to take daddy with me for a tetanus shot, the aches, pains, fears, the begging for money, the paperwork, the 16 hour days rebuilding, the many hours at lowes, the decisions, the  aloneness, the helplessness, the bills, bills and more bills.  

 

i didn't just lose 36 years of things - i lost the things that really matter:  peace, security, comfort, HOME.  i lost returning home at the end of the day to the one place that brings respite.  i don't have that anymore.  5 years later it's still missing.  

 

today i acknowledge and mourn the lives that were lost.  i made it out with my pets and for that i am eternally grateful.  11 lives were lost.  i'm glad i don't know the number of animals lost.

 

i am grateful i had a job to go to today (though i cried for a good deal of the day), i am grateful daddy came to check on me, i am grateful yesterday was payday so i could go to the bookstore after work (today is independent bookstore day - I won't tell how much i spent), i am grateful the pets are safe and happy.  i am grateful that the day is almost over, i am grateful tomorrow i celebrate the birthday of one of my dearest, i am grateful for all i have.  i pray that i never take one single article for granted.

 

don't get PTSD.  it's not worth it.  it hurts.

 

grace and peace.    

overload

today is an emotional day for me all-around.

 

first:  it's Good Friday and as a Christian this is always an emotional day as i remember the sacrifice Jesus made for a sinner like me!

 

 

second:  it's the beginning of Passover when Jews (and Christians) remember God's deliverance from slavery;

 

third:  it's april 3, my best friend's mother's birthday.  i love her very much and rejoice that she is alive.  i am the first to say that i envy, very much, their relationship as i deal with the broken relationship with my own mother.

 

fourth:  as it's april 3, it's the anniversary of MLK's last speech on the night before he was brutally assassinated.  he's been a hero of mine for as long as i remember.  this speech makes me weep and rejoice at once.  "mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!"

 

on this Good Friday we Christians continuously say, "sunday is coming!"

 

AMEN to that!

grace and peace and glory

10 years and counting

10 years ago today i closed on this house.  i never thought i'd be here 10 years and i certainly never thought i'd be here 10 years with no way out.  almost 5 years after the flood the value is about half what it was beforehand.  it's still, though the saying hurts, "under water" about $25,000, meaning it's worth $25,000 less than i owe.

 

the bad part of it is that because of my anxiety i am relegated to spending nearly every waking minute here unless i'm at work.  my world has become so small as i cannot go but a handful of places.  i only have a couple of friends for which i am willing to venture out.  i can't go to the movies, i can't go to a restaurant, i can't go to church, i can't go anywhere and feel safe - though the worst part is that this is the place i feel the LEAST safe.

 

i wish i were a person who didn't remember anniversaries and wasn't so sentimental but that's not me.  i can't remember what i ate for lunch but i know every phone number i've ever had.  i can't remember how to get home a lot of days but i know every one of my ex-boyfriend's birthdays.

 

today was a busy day at work.  i'm tired and a bit congested.  i'm gonna pile up on the couch with winston the pug and try my best to look forward to tomorrow.

 

grace and peace

 

 

 

 

 

 



chip on my shoulder

can't get something i heard today out of my head.  this is likely to be a diatribe many of you won't want to hear but it's just something i have to work out.  what she said while speaking of her childhood/early adulthood:

 

"i didn't know people had bad lives."  

 

what i heard: 

 

"i have no idea what the real world is like and your experience is foreign and the exception to the rule."

 

i just can't believe it when i hear something like this!  really?  no idea that people hurt, that kids are neglected and hungry and abused?  no idea that not everyone has the same life you have?  no idea that not everyone is loved and adored?  wow.  that must be nice.

 

i realize, because of my experience, and probably because of my innate personality, that i am a pessimist.  i don't believe the world is basically good; i don't believe that people are basically good.  i believe THAT is the exception to the rule.  i believe we are born into a fallen, sinful world and being good is a choice and not everyone chooses it.  not everyone who has children wants them.  not everyone who has works hard gets blessed with a big, comfortable house in the suburbs.

 

some of us are born in to families with mental illness and neglect and poverty and anger and grief and fear and all those hard, bad things.  i try really hard not to let the way i grew up dictate the way i live and for the most part i think i do a pretty good job.  however, there is no denying the fact that what i experienced, not just in my house as a child, but the trauma of the flood, affect who i am.  i most likely will always be distrustful of people and be afraid of losing the few important things in my life. 

 

for whatever reason when i hear people say the things like i heard today it hits me all over again that we are all so different.  we absolutely do not have the same experiences, the same advantages, the same backgrounds, etc.  for all my troubled childhood it was so much better than a lot of people and so much worse than others.  i just wish we could all, for the love of pete, take into account that some, if not all, of us are damaged in some way.  each of us fights a battle, big or small.  let's all be kind to each other.  

 

remember, not everyone came from where you came from.

 

grace and peace and understanding        

832-1266

ME!

 

i'm exhausted.  i had a severe panic attack tonight when i learned that daddy decided to let go to of his landline.  he lives in the house he grew up in, the house he moved into at age 8 or 9 in 1956, my grandparents' house.  the only house in which i've ever truly felt safe,  the first phone number i learned, and dialed, is no more.  

 

he still lives there and that's more important but something about knowing that number will belong to someone else makes me feel awfully empty inside.  i have such an attachment to the house and that bloody number!  i was surprised when he told me because he is the sentimental type and i didn't think he would never give up that number.  i didn't panic on the phone with him but hung up and burst into tears.  i will call him tomorrow and talk more about it but tonight i'm just worn out.  

 

would this always be hard?  i'm sure, but with this much anxiety and the constant feeling of being an open wound it's sure hurting a bunch tonight.

 

grace and peace and nostalgia     



in like a lion...

haven't felt like writing much lately but here i am.

 

i've started working full-time so i'm adjusting to that while also trying to cope with the end of winter.  we've finally had some 70 degree days but winter has hung on much longer than i had hoped.

 

living with insomnia and PTSD is tiring enough without the gray skies and cold weather.  i'm looking forward to the days i can get to the track after work and breathe in the fresh air.  i'm so out of shape but i do look forward to the exercise, no matter how slow and laborious it may be.

 

i'm sure there was a time when things weren't so hard in my life but i honestly don't remember those days.  as i approach the 5 year mark (may 2) of the flood i can't help but think of all the days, weeks, months, years that i have all but lost.  if feels a lot like my childhood - lost years that aren't worth remembering.  ugh!

 

as a Christian i believe that hard times are a part of life and that we will all face them but there is a part of me that continues to cry out with the question, "how much?"  i would love to have something be easy for once.  for days not to just be survived but actually lived.  not sure i would know how to react to such ease.

 

grace and peace.