It Must Be Nice To Be “Normal”

Is it just me?, life

It would be nice to be normal from time to time. To have a brain that sees more than black and white. To never have thoughts overtake the mind at night. To always have eyes that see the light.

Rejected for abnormalities buried deep in the inner wiring of a complex central nervous system. It’s biological, psychological, sociological, and environmental. The perfect storm brewed to create the madness swirling in this tired soul. 

So many opportunities forced down the river of hope for admitting to a dysfunctional way of thinking about life. 

Pills, on and off. No one wants a person on pills. Pills are shameful. Pills have side effects. Pills are for the weakest hearts. Too bad the pills helped…over and over…because a brain that heals with pills never wants to stop taking them. It needs them. With them…it gets a taste of “normal.” But if it needs pills to be normal, it’s not really normal at all, is it?

Normal…far from normal. Normal chances available to all those NORMAL people who don’t take pills and would never openly show their scars. Normal. It must be nice. 

Often, I wish I were normal. I wish I’d never done or said all the things that led me down a path of abnormality. Because now, I’m far down that road. Too far to ever return. I’m tainted and ruined. A recipe for rejection from becoming anything worth reading about. From birth, I wasn’t normal. It was never a choice I made or a path I knowingly chose – so why am I made to feel so…wrong by everyone out there “qualified” to judge what it means to be “normal”?

“Hey kid, you’re not normal. You’re messed up. You need medicine to survive. You can’t do the following with your life: Career A, Job B, Degree plan C, Options D through F, etc…”

It must be nice to be normal. I’ll never know.


Reading “The Martian”

Books, Is it just me?, life

“The Martian,” written by Andy Weir is an intelligently written novel about an astronaut stranded on Mars. 

The most astounding aspect of this book is the main character – Mark Watney – and his incredible persistence and positive attitude. His actions are admirable and brave in a time when no one would blame him for giving up and panicking. 

Mark is the definition of how to act in an emergency situation. Instead of losing his motivation and giving into the harsh climate and near impossible circumstances, he continually skips right past all ideas of panic and self-pity and immediately moves forward with ideas and problem solving techniques. He’s resourceful and clever, extremely intelligent, and level headed to the point of making jokes in his unfortunate situation. 

How often in life do we waste time and energy on feeling sorry for ourselves? How much time could be saved by skipping past all the mourning and pity parties and instead, immediately getting to work on how to improve the scenario? We could accomplish so much more if we pushed back the natural impulse to panic and used that energy to focus on brainstorming a solution.

Mark Watney exhibits textbook courage and resourcefulness. He’s a perfect example of how we should all act in emergency events. Lost in the woods, car wrecks, losing a job, missing an important occasion, getting rejected from anything – these are things that happen everyday and require a calm, clever mind in order to push forward successfully. Panic, worry, pity – all of these are the opposite of helpfulness and won’t help anyone move forward with life and healing.

If Mark had, for any moment, lost faith and decided to stop trying, he would have easily died and perished in the Martian climate. He was forced to stay calm and keep his composure in order to survive.

“The Martian” is a great read. We should all follow Mark Watney’s example and skip the urges to panic and feel sorry for ourselves.

gray and white robot

Photo by Pixabay on

Unplugging for Awhile (No Social Media for One Year)

Is it just me?, life, This is Why I Don't Have Friends

Social Media has upsides, but it also has consequences that aren’t so positive. I think the negative hits some people harder than others. I’m one of those that needs a break from the constant checking and wasted time looking at the fabricated lives of others. Okay for some people, not okay for me.

Back in December I decided I’d take a break from social media for the entire year of 2019. Honestly, it hasn’t been difficult. It’s actually pretty nice. Nearing the end of April, I’ve almost had four months free of social media.

I take pictures for my own enjoyment versus taking them with intention to post for others to see. Have you ever heard the saying, “Enjoy it, don’t record it”? I’ve found I live by that saying much more now that I’m not planning to upload photos online after the event.

I hear less about the terrible things going on in the world. A lack of news updates can be good and bad. Sometimes we all need to know what’s happening across the globe. But for the most part, the news channels and media only care about how many viewers they have, versus actually telling a story. And most of whatever is posted on Facebook is made up/false news anyway.

I don’t see anything about celebrities and the daily updates on their lives. Most of the people talked about, I don’t know who they are. So this might not be great for clubs discussing E!News, but it has been awesome for me.

I’ve spent more time reading and writing. It’s insane how much time can be wasted scrolling through social media updates. It’s eye opening. Now I spend more time reading material that is good for my mind. I have more time to write and express myself.

I’m glad I decided to take an extended break from the social media platforms. I think a break would do most people some good.

Try it out.


Wildcat Bridge – Richland Chambers

If I Go Back, I Might Lose What’s Most Important

Is it just me?, life

The thought of going back…it scares the hell out of me. I’d be losing time…with everything and everyone. But the worst part would be losing moments with you. 

I’ve come to love and look forward to watching you grow each week, making the sweetest attempts to speak, and learning to use those tiny feet. You are everything that is right about this universe. Innocence, freedom, the desire to explore anything you can get within reach of – you are perfection. Simple, pure, beautiful perfection.

When I have to go back…my priority will be to keep having high time with you. Nothing else will come before you – not my needs or wants, not my own goals and dreams – you come first. Always. I promise, you will be first on my list.

Giving up many things to go back to a regular routine is easy. Most of that stuff never really mattered to me in the first place. The thought of missing any moment of your expanding life is what’s killing me.

And so with the time we have left…I’ll cherish it so much. I’ll hold every gaze and repeat every noise you make. I’ll jump on every opportunity to spend any number of seconds within your presence. You are the reason this entire universe exists.

I can’t lose time with you. I won’t give up my time with you. Time with you is more important than going back, more important than money, and more important than life itself.

Time with you is priceless. Every moment is precious and brings a smile to my wretched, broken soul.

I’ll never give up my time with you. Let the world crumble and fade around me – no one is going to take our time away. Nothing will ever take you from me.


Returning to Reality – Losing the Power of Choice

Is it just me?, life

I fear that going back to a normality is near. So now I must prepare to say goodbye to endless free time.

But my animosity and fear are not about free time, are they? God knows I have far too much of that free time. Too much time to sit and think about the end of times and the purpose of all life in the universe.

A routine would do me some good, no one will deny that truth. A regular schedule to keep me accountable and productive, while making money at the same time – what could be the downside?

The thoughts that scare me involve choice. Normality will take my choices away. No more freedom. No more waking up and deciding what to do today based on feelings and desire. 

If I want to stay in bed today or drive four hours to the coast, I can. I could even do a little bit of both. I don’t necessarily want to travel to see a wonder of the world today, but I could if the urge overtook me. I could, and that’s the point. I wouldn’t have to ask for time off, wait for approval from a boss, or hold onto my urges until the weekend comes. That’s what it means to be free, right? Waking up to whatever horizon I decide, in the moment?

Though freedom comes with free time. Time to…consider all things, all possibilities, all theories of the universe and the bubbles of other universes potentially surrounding it. I enjoyed it at first, but now…I think way too much about how I’ll never amount to anything worth writing about.

Knowing the benefits of working and having a set schedule again don’t make returning any easier. I’ll miss having a choice. Whether I take advantage of having a choice is my business, and it doesn’t matter. I want it, and I can’t stand the thought of letting it go.

Reality is soon to return, and my freedom of choice will be a concept of the past.


Scar in the Field

Every Dream Is A Nightmare

Is it just me?, life

Dreams…a fascinating concept yet to be fully explained or deconstructed by science. They’re something we all experience but never understand. Dreams can be entertaining, confusing, nonsensical, forgotten, or completely horrifying. 

The good dreams…those are the ones I never want to wake up from. Those are the ones where I look down and see messages on my phone from that one person, the one I’ll miss until I die. The good dreams are when I’m practicing my fantasy career, on a perfect planet far from this earth, and flying through clouds of cotton beyond the surface of the sky.

I enjoy the good dreams. But because they’re only dreams, giving me a false taste of what I’ll never have in reality, I’d prefer for them to…stop. Stop messing with me. Stop teasing about amazing fictional lives and making me want to sleep forever. 

Nightmares…those are scary. Terrifying. And when you wake up, you’re relieved. Not sad about this boring reality. Not wishing and wanting more. But relieved. It’s an amazing feeling to go from being chased by a malicious demon to waking up to a cuddly kitten, in the matter of a few seconds. 

Give me nightmares. Let me run for my life with sweaty palms and a racing heart. Let me battle zombies and horrendous creatures so that I can wake up feeling accomplished and safe within my real, mundane world.

I’m done with the false dream perfection that I feel when I have wonderful night fantasies.

Dreams…What do they mean? Do they mean anything worth analyzing? Are they memories of previous lives like my Grandma claims? Or, premonitions? Are dreams messages and feelings from the mysterious unconscious brain? 

Whatever or whoever you are, dream world, whatever you’re trying to accomplish – please quit screwing with my brain. It’s already insane enough. 


Vultures over Cedar Creek Lake

Fading Faces

Is it just me?, life, Poems, stories

It’s the most important face in your life for quite a long time. It finds its way into every passing thought and daydream. It makes you happy, then it makes you sad, it breaks your heart then heals it. There is a god and a devil mixed into that one single human face. So all encompassing, an obsession. Addiction. Dependency develops quickly and the thought of living without that face is the scariest possible future outcome.

And one day…that face leaves. Never to return. All that’s left are the memories, both good and bad. Your heart is broken. That face…it remains in the brain and haunts you night and day. You begin to think you might die without it. Part of you even wants to die rather than never see that face again. Pain.

Suffering. Deep, dark, sadistic suffering that endures through even the most glorious of moments.

The day eventually comes when you’re forced to either end it all or get the hell out of bed and back into the world. So you choose to live and let go. The process of healing begins. 

One day at a time.

After awhile, something truly magical happens – that face begins to fade. You begin to complete entire days without seeing that face pop into your present mind. Before you know it, you see it in a passing thought and think, “Wow, I haven’t thought of you in some time.”

The heart mends itself as long as you give it the chance to recover.

Years later you go through old photos on a USB you found in the closet. You see that face pop up and barely even remember it – the way it sounded, the way it walked – it was such a long time ago.

That face – that one face you thought would never leave your heart and soul, the one you thought you could never live without, the one that haunted you for endless sleepless nights – that face has faded into the old memories of forgotten days.

With time, like magic, a face will fade.

Version 2

The only cow that would look my way.