Withered, wrinkly and holding a stick

It’s been a while since my last blog entry. What can I say…… I’ve been busy.However now that I have time to write again I’ve ran into a problem, I’m not sure what to write about. It isn’t that I don’t have things to write about, it’s that I have a few different ideas of what I want to write about but at the time none of them are sticking their hand up in the back of my mind and yelling, “Me, me……Oh please choose me!!”  They are all just hanging out, sort of half-baked stored up in my head saying, “It’s nice here, let’s stay for a while. Anyone got some munchies?”

Not only do I have a back-log of half-baked ideas but part of my brain doesn’t want to cooperate.Lately the part of my brain that stores and deals with all the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder stuff just wants to curl up into the fetal position and poke at me with a big stick any time I come there looking for inspiration of what to write about. It is tired and worn out and doesn’t always like to be exposed. I mean you can’t blame it can you? All wrinkled and withered and curled up in the fetal position. You wouldn’t want an audience in that condition either, would you?

Oh ya, it is also April. April has a strange effect on me. I love April. It’s Spring, the daylight hours get longer, I can go jogging in the sunlight, it’s the birth month of some fabulous people I know including my son and myself. The thing about April is no matter how many positives it has there is always this one big looming negative, it’s the anniversary of the shooting.  April has a heaviness, a dread.  I’m not even always conscientiously aware of it but it seems like every April it’s there. It isn’t always present but I’ll be out for a walk and start to feel uneasy and stressed and not know why or I’ll be cleaning my house and feel on edge and agitated or I’ll feel a lack of motivation and stop and wonder why. Then I realize, “Oh it’s April, there’s that thing.”  It’s almost like that feeling you get when someone continually strokes the same patch of skin on your arm over and over. At first it’s nothing, then it get’s a little annoying and then it get’s so you just want to scream, “Would you stop it already. That is driving me crazy!!!!!!!”  April does that to me. It makes me go back to the scar in my brain, left behind by the trauma of the shooting, over and over again and I want to yell, “Ya I know it’s there. I’ve been living with it for years. Now would you just leave me alone already!!!!!!”

……..Anyway…….. all this contention between my brain and the month of April leaves me a little bit tired a little less motivated and a little less focused. So forgive me for the blog posts that may appear in the wonderful spring month of April. They may be half-baked, lack direction, be grumpy, withered, wrinkly and holding a stick for which to poke intruders with. Don’t blame me, blame April.

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