My world and writing

I wish i knew what to write here tonight. I don't know exactly where I should start. Writing for me is the same as someone else taking a Prozac or wellebutrin. It is a therapy that is matched by very little else, if anything, in this world. It has taken me from Low to high and probably saved my life a few times. It is my aphrodisiac and my problem solver. It is also the place I go when something is so over whelming, I don't have any other avenue to release the incredible sorrows or smiles that sometimes take me away from "Life." Weeks that are filled with fears and thoughts and losses and being lost are often made into a story so that I can finish in a story what I could not finish in life.
Welcome once again to the world of Bipolar. A place so abstract and yet so straight forward that you know what to expect but you never know how it is coming or what side it will hit you from. A mix of wild emotions and frightening thoughts. A world where one is certain the world hates him/her, but you feel you Must save the world anyways. Ahh, yes, and did I mention that you are sure you CAN save the world? A place where anything is possible and nothing is finished. Somewhere that reality and fiction meld into one so perfectly that it is often hard to determine which is which. A whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that spin so fast that it actually causes your own body to shake and spin. That is where I am today.
I have battled abscesses in my teeth for 2 weeks now. The pain at times so bad that I was sure passing out for a long time would surely be a better place to be. Meds that helped but leave me feeling disconnected... and Lord knows I am there most of the time without the help from Medication. I am on Coumadine, a blood thinner because i have had 3 Pulmonary Embolisms, two that almost took me from this world. I have taken it for 12 years now. In order to have my teeth worked on, I have had to go off of it for 6 days. My protime going from a safe 3.1 to a very unsafe 1.2 in a matter of 5 days has left me scared and praying that no clots come along right now. Tomorrow, the teeth will be taken care of and back on the Coumadine I will go. My mind races to hope it is all good and safe and that the terrible pain will be gone when this is over.
Life... life delivering things that keep my mind also turning and spinning. Someone so very dear to my heart has not been heard from in over a week. IS she safe? IS she being watched over? Has this become the way that she and I will cease speaking to one another after 7 years of sharing everything we could with one another, though we never met face to face?!? Another fear, another change that my mind must somehow try and process without allowing it to dominate my thoughts and my heart. Where will this all finish? Where will i be when the next few days are over?
Friends that i have lost connection with that have been so deep in my heart and my soul and I wonder if we will ever touch hearts again. Life changing for me so fast that I am not sure I will keep up.
Does this all sound a bit "crazy" to you? Well, for me, it is simply life. This is the little world I live in and as insane as it may seem at times, it is the sanest place I could be. Writing... ahhhhhhhhhh. A place to go when I need to breathe. A world to absorb my everyday and somewhere to hide when i just don't want the world to see me as I am. This is where I live and this is where I will stay. Come and see me if you wish, but don't stay to long because that also causes anxiety for me. What a world huh??? I guess we will see tomorrow. Always, Darrel

Bipolar and Happiness... can you have both?

An interesting thought was brought up last night while I was twittering away. We were discussing different issues associated with being Bipolar. The subject of happiness and being Bipolar came up. Most of what people here about being bipolar is negative. I will never deny that there are a huge number of issues that come with being Bipolar. Top it off with carrying Tourettes around with you and well... You do the math.
But, are there positives to being bipolar? Can you be happy and lead a somewhat "normal" life? A darling lady once said to me, "So you aren't normal, So what! Normal is just average and you sweet man are far from average!" So let's talk about the pluses to being bipolar. It does seem to increase or perhaps open the imagination world to us. We see the world in a different light than most people. We see harmony and giving as a better way of life. We see love and even love-making with a totally different idea. Happiness?
2. Enjoying, showing, or marked by pleasure, satisfaction, or joy.
3. Being especially well-adapted; felicitous: a happy turn of phrase.
4. Cheerful; willing: happy to help.
Looking at the definition, I am going to say yes! Though my life may in fact have moments or days of being "Bipolar", I do enjoy life. I live a good life and I may even have a few things over the common person. When I feel the happiness inside of me, I act on it. I use those feelings to reach out to others and to bless their lives anywhere I can. My times of pure Euphoric feelings are not always a bad thing. They give to me the feeling that I can save the world. Whether I truly can or not isn't relevant to this write. It is the fact that most people go through life in a somewhat set or routine mode of living. They work, they play, they go to bed and they start over again. Sure there is happiness for them but it never reaches the peaks that it does with someone that is bipolar. I see the world as friends and reach out to those in need, sometimes a bit recklessly but I still REACH OUT. I am filled with happiness and contentment when I know that I have made someone smile or feel good about themselves.
Joy, happiness and loving are feelings that mean so much to me because I know that they can be stolen from me in a blink of an eye. I cherish them and nurture them as much as I can while they last for me. I live my life in a world that takes in the most precious gift of smiles and love and breathe it in like the fresh smell of a chimney, puffing out it's pine smell or the smell of leaves burning in a yard in the Fall. I relate my joys to songs and memories and do my best to hold them as long as my mind will allow.
My children understand and they know without question that they are so very loved. I accentuate the love I feel for them so that they always know that no matter where this disorder takes me, they are loved. My family, those that choose to try and understand, know how much i love them. And the woman I am with when making love? She too knows that my mind can do no less than give 1000% because that is how it works inside my head. The fears of failure don't allow me to do anything less than the best. Why? Because my disorder fears rejection horribly and my mind is scared beyond words that I won't make someone smile, no matter what it is I do.
So then, can you have both bipolar and happiness? Oh yes, absolutely. You still have the power to make it your own. You still can smile and laugh and feel loved. Though a Low is always waiting to happen, if you surround yourself with loved ones that do their best to understand, you can share in their happiness and their love. It is really about who you take into or allow, even if just for a glimpse, into your little world that says if you can be happy or not. I am Bipolar and I have Tourettes. I accept it and stay as near to those that love me and accept it, whether understood or not... And I smile!

One Little Rock...

Today was a beautiful day filled with sunshine and the smell of Spring all wrapped around the warmth. I took advantage of the sunshine and went fishing. I live less than a mile from a beautiful Park and 2 huge lakes. I had not been fishing since late last Fall. I did not do any Ice Fishing this year as it simply gets harder to drag my warm Butt out in the cold and on to the ice every year. Needless to say... I was READY! The weather was perfect and the water looked ready to be fished.
I tried different places and the fishing definitely was not anything to write home about. As I stood at the shore, watching my bobber float, untouched, I glanced down at where my foot was resting. A slow, gentle rush, if in fact a rush can be slow, came over me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked out over the water, it's white caps dancing to the beat of the wind skirting across the water. The rock where I rested my foot was all too familiar. It was a place, a thing that I will remember all of my life.
The last three years of My Sheila's life, she spent in a wheelchair. Her legs were good for a very tiny support when I would lift Sheila from chair to bed or chair to toilet or where-ever it was I was lifting her precious body to. The wheelchair was not a newly added article to our lives. Sheila had been in one off and on through out or 24 years together. Many reasons for her being in one, the last, a simple medical procedure gone wrong that left her unable to walk ever again. This "inconvenience" as she called it did not ever hamper nor stop our living. We simply found other ways to do things. There was always a way.
Fishing had always been one of the many passions we shared as one. Sheila normally out-fished the rest of us and loved to fish anytime we could go. She had her favorite spot, reason one, because the fishing was awesome in that spot. Reason two, and the reason I cried today, was because there was a rock that stuck out of the ground right at the shores edge. I would push her there and then she would rest her legs against the rock. For hours she would sit there and look out over the water... that was of course when she wasn't catching a fish. I would watch her and Marvel at the endurance she displayed and the way she never let her "inconvenience" slow her down. She refused to allow anything to come between her life and our love. Her foot would stayed propped up on the rock I was now standing on. My heart ached for her and my soul poured out it's tears for the knowing that I was NOT going to see her again until I looked at her, face to face in heaven.
But the tears I cried today were not so strongly for all the years we lived with the wheelchair. They were not for just the memory of her. They were for a more specific time. These tears I cried at the Lake today were for the last hours we had together. They were for the time that followed the Doctor telling me words I never spend another day with her at this lake. That he could not save her and that she had hours to live. I cried for words unspoken that I have wanted just one hour of that time back so I could say them to her. I was so scared and tried so hard not to let her know she was going to heaven. I talked of stupid things like the snow outside and told her she needed to just rest and go to sleep.
Why didn't I tell her the things in my heart that night? Why didn't I tell her I had loved her with all of my heart and soul forever and that I would until the day I died? Why didn't I tell her how the years we loved one another were the best years i would ever know. That she was my world and that no man could have ever been more blessed with a love than I was. The tears that stream down my face now as I write, causing me to be so glad You, the reader, will only see the finished product here, and not all the erases and corrections that typing through tear filled eyes makes happen, burn into my cheek. So much I wanted to say! So many things I should have said to her as she laid there looking up at me. I wanted to crawl in next to her and hold her one more time. Why didn't I?
I stared down at that rock and then out at the water. I cried her name and told her how much i loved her. I said the things that I wished I had said to her that last few hours we were given together. I apologized for the pain i caused her when I hurt her heart and told her how sorry I was for not being a stronger, a better man. And I whispered to the wind that I missed her more than I ever knew a person could be missed. I sang her favorite song to her and cried when I sang "and Honey, I miss you, and I am being good... and I would love to be with you, if only I could."
One little rock, sticking out of the ground. One spot out of 10,000 acres of land that surround a Lake. One million memories sit in that rock. The very best times of my life. The memories of my daughters and I, captured in a single rock, on the shore of a lake. Do you think she heard me today? Do you think that she always Knew???? I hope she did. She is my happiest memories and my hardest cries. And I love her forever. That little rock gave her back to me for just a little while today and I was blessed all over again...

Into the Flames... The final chapter.........

Sylvia sat at her desk typing as fast as her mind could transfer her thoughts to paper. She knew that it was the only way to defeat Jeffrey. She needed to write the ending to the story. She also needed to make sure that she wrote it in the right way. Abby and Dale had burned through to the bones now and their hair was beginning to be consumes by the flames. Sylvia knew this meant that they were truly dieing. She had only a short while before it would all be over for them and she knew that she would be the next to die.
Her fingers moved across the keyboard like a concert pianist playing at Carnegie Hall. {{The flames were intensifying as the two girls struggle to extinguish the flames on each others body. Their screams could be heard for blocks. But, their were no neighbors to hear their pleas for help. Suddenly the door to their room flew open. The girls knew by the sound of the footsteps that their father, Jeffrey had come in. Jeffrey saw his daughters laying on the floor, the flames consuming their tiny bodies like a hungry Tiger tearing at it's fresh kill. Jeffrey grabbed the blanket from the bed closest to him. He wrapped it around them and scooped them up together in his arms. The flames began to eat at the blanket. Jeffrey laid them on the ground and covered them with his body.}}
Sylvia looked up from her writing just as Jeffrey disappeared. She knew he was back in the story she was writing. She needed to keep him there if she were to save Abby and Dale. The flames in the house had died down to almost nothing. Dale and Abby had stopped burning now and seemed to be slowly recovering.
"Don't stop writing Sylvia. You are doing exactly what needs to be done."
Sylvia stared at Abby and wrote nothing. She was torn inside and didn't know what to do.
"What are you waiting for!?!? You must right before he comes back. We do not have the strength to stop him if he does return."
"He killed my Ian, Dale. I want to kill him! I want him to suffer the way that Ian did! I have the power to do that to him!"
"Sylvia, listen to me. If you do that, then you are no different then he is. You will become the same monster that Jeffrey has become. Please, only you can stop this insanity!! Please, just write!"
Sylvia sat down and began to write again. {The flames slowly died out as Jeffrey held his daughters to his chest. Tears ran down his face as he kissed each one of them. Their eyes opened and they looked into their fathers face. Together, in voices almost to soft to hear, they whispered "Thank you" to their father. Jeffrey took the girls outside the house and took them to the nearest hospital. Their burns were miraculously minor and they would recover fully from the trauma.}}
Dale and Abby read her last entry and smiled. As Abby hugged Sylvia, she felt the tears on her own face. "I know it was hard, but you did the right thing. To kill Jeffrey would have solved nothing nor would it have changed anything. Things are as they should be now."
"No! No they are not! My Ian is still dead and the bastard that killed him is now going to live happily ever after! That is not right, not even a little bit!"
Her tears burned her cheek as she sobbed while sitting beside all that remained of the only man she had ever loved. His absence would leave a hole inside of her that could never be filled again. She stayed for a week at this house. She saw Jeffrey and his daughters playing outside, laughing and running... doing things that her Ian would never do again. She hated that man and finally, no longer able to look at him or his girls, she packed her things and left.
********************************************************************************
One year later, Sylvia sat writing the last part of her newest novel. She had taken some time off before writing again to reflect on all that had happened. She missed Ian daily and loved him as she always had.
The ending of her newest novel...{{ The flames had died away and she could see her friends clearly now. Both had recovered shortly after the flames had gone away. Sylvia looked at where her Love had been laying. She realized that his body was no longer there. Had the ending of her story caused his body to disappear? Had her not writing him into the story made him non existent? She did not know the answer to any of these questions. Suddenly, she heard a knock at her door. Sylvia stood and went to the door. She opened it and looked into the face of her Ian. His smiled was perfect and his arms reached out to embrace her. She held him tight, never to let him do again. He was hers forever. The End...}}
Sylvia clicked "save" and closed her laptop. She walked towards the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Suddenly, she heard a knock at her door. Sylvia stood and went to the door. She opened it and looked into the face of her Ian. His smiled was perfect and his arms reached out to embrace her. She held him tight, never to let him do again. He was hers forever. She had brought him back from where ever he had gone too. Ian had no memory of what had happened and Sylvia would keep it that way.
That evening, as they sat outside, holding hands and laughing, a car drove by. It slowed in front of them. She looked at Abby and Dale and smiled. They nodded at her and smiled back. As the car drove away Ian looked at Sylvia.
"Who are they, sweetheart?"
"They bought the house at the end of the block. I think they will make great neighbors."
Ian kissed her and smiled.
"I am sure they will, Love."

Into the Flames part 5...

Jeffrey began to move towards Ian. Sylvia laid over him and tried to use her own body as a shield. Abby had uttered some words in an unknown language and had caused her body to stop burning. She reached out and touched Jeffrey on his shoulder just as he was touching Ian's leg. Ian screamed out in horrible pain. His body was going from no skin to skin over and over again. Each time caused him more pain.
"Stop it!!!! Stop hurting him! He didn't do anything to you! I am the one that fell in love... I am the one that tossed you and your daughters aside! I forgot you in the closet! But he didn't do anything to you! If you are going to hurt someone then hurt me, you monster!"
Abby pulled on Jeffrey, knowing that their combined powers were inflicting more pain on Ian. She really had no other choice. She had to calm Jeffrey down before she could do anything more. She finally managed to pull Jeffrey away from Ian. As he turned around to face Abby, Jeffrey blinked his eyes and flames began to swallow Abby again. She merely waved her hand and the flames were gone as fast as they had begun.
"No more Jeffrey! We have to stay calm if we are to fix this! You need to step back and let me do my work here."
"No, I am going to do what I came here to do! He is going to feel the pain I have felt for so long." Jeffrey pushed Sylvia away from Ian. He then grabbed Ian and wrapped his body around Ian and began to squeeze him. "This is for all you have caused me! I hate you and the longer I hold onto you, the more you will burn. Eventually your body will be absorbed by the flames and you will spend eternity with me mas your torturer. I think I might just enjoy that, very much!"
As Ian screamed in pain, Sylvia looked up at Abby. The terror in her eyes and the sadness could not be missed. "Is that true!?!?!?!?!? Is what he just said going to happen to Ian???!!!"
"It will if we can not stop him. I don't know exactly how to stop him now. He is angry and that anger feeds him and makes him stronger than any I have ever encountered. I need more strength!"
Abby ran out the door and headed towards her house. Sylvia watched her go and then looked over at Ian. His body seemed to be staying as a skeleton longer with each passing moment. Even his screams were getting weaker.
"Well I am not going to sit here while the man I love is condemned to an eternity of burning in God knows where!"
She stood up and went to her writing desk. She took out the old manuscript, wiped the dust from the pages and then began to write. She re-read each word and typed the words new. She typed as fast as she could, knowing that Ian's time was running out.
(The flames reached out of the lantern as Dora Lee and Miranda laughed. "You found me but you haven't tagged me yet, Dora. It doesn't count unless you touch me."
"I will tagged you as soon as I move this lantern."
The lantern fell forward and it's flames spit out of the top. Dora's dress was suddenly covered in flames. She began to scream as the flames engulfed her body. Miranda tried to pat the flames out on her sister. Instead, the flames began to crawl up sleeve and cover her tiny body. She too screamed out in pain as the flames nearly hid her body from sight.}
Sylvia read the words back to herself. As she did, suddenly she looked up and saw Jeffrey standing beside her. Ian was laying on the floor, his skeletal body motionless now.
"And that is where you left us! My daughters burning and screaming. You didn't even look back!"
Without looking up Sylvia began typing again. She typed as she had never typed before. Jeffrey glanced at her and then walked back towards Ian. He grabbed Ian's leg and began to burn him again. This time, Ian did not cry out. He did not fight to pull away. His eyes were glassed over and fixed in a stare. Jeffrey smiled and dropped his leg.
"It would appear that your Love is no longer with us."
Sylvia stopped typing and looked at Ian. She knew by his look that he was gone. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
"You killed him. You killed the only man I have ever loved. A good man that didn't deserve to die that way. Come and take me too. I have no need nor desire to live with out him."
"Then I won't mind so much taking your life. You might even see your Love, reliving his last moments over and over again. How special that will be!"
As he reached for Sylvia, she closed her eyes and whispered "I will be with you soon, My Love. We will have our eternity together. Wait for me."
His hands, inches from her face, suddenly he was tossed backwards across the room. His body crumbled into the wall with an echoing thud.
"You will NOT take an others life! It ends here Jeffrey!"
Sylvia looked up at hearing the man's strong voice. Dale stood in the doorway, holding Abby's hand in his. "Together, we will beat you back and imprison you in your old house for all times. You can not fight us both."
Jeffrey stood and was immediately knocked off his feet again. His fury now multiplied at this new attack, he focus all of it on Dale and Abby. Suddenly their hair began to smoke. The heat from the flames was searing the skin off their bones. As the heat intensified, Dale and Abby continued to burn, for the first time feeling the pain.
"You can not win! Give it up and make this easier for all of us!"
"We will Not give up until we are both dead!"
"How noble of you Abby. Too bad the story has to end this way."
The Story... that was the answer to it all. Jeffrey had brought on his own ending without even knowing. "Sylvia, write! Write the ending to the story! You never finished it. Think fast and write faster!"
Sylvia knew exactly what she needed to write. She sat down and began to type, all the while watching Dale and Abby burn more. Their time was almost over too...

Into the Flames part 4

Abby waved her hand and the flames suddenly were gone. Ian and Sylvia looked around the room. The furniture was as it had been before the flames. They stared at each other for a moment and then hugged each other. Ian drew away from her and rubbed his chest. His now unbuttoned shirt revealed a large red mark on his chest. Abby looked at it and then frowned.
"I am sorry, Ian. That is one thing I can not remove. Where Jeffrey touched you will remain forever, I am afraid. A touch from the other side, if you will. The pain however will eventually pass."
"You wouldn't want to explain what just happened to us would you? And while you are at it, answer my first question!"
"Ian, Jeffrey blames you for what happened to his daughters because you came to Sylvia while she was writing the novel she put away. Let me explain this first. No one truly knows what all happens when we leave this world. Some I suppose go directly to their home in the after-life and some... well, some wander for various reasons. Maybe they were bad and are trying to atone for their wrong doings. Maybe they had unfinished business that was so strong when they left that they were allowed to stay for awhile. The "air-waves" that spirits move through is mostly unknown but we do know they exist and we know that spirits have been seen walking the earth since time began."
"All of this matters to me, why?"
"Patience Ian. Let her finish, please."
Ian placed his arm around Sylvia and turned back towards Abby.
"I am known as a Seer. Some call us psychic, others call us fortune tellers... some even refer to us as prophets of the modern day. We are gifted in the way of seeing things ahead of time and a few of us can even speak to spirits after they have left this world."
"Me!!! I am one of those! I swear I have always had that ability and to feel others and their pain."
Abby looked at Sylvia. Her eyes focused on her as if she were trying to see inside of her. She took Sylvia's hand in hers.
"Dear one, you are far more than that. Much more than you ever knew or could have imagined. You are one of maybe 1000 known people that can draw spirits into this world. Summon them up and give them a type of re-birth. When you write, the characters in your novels take on life. we, a group of people, watch for these things and follow writers that do this. Your success is because of just that gift. Your readers feel the reality of your characters because, simply put, they are real. You didn't know that but we did. These people from your books seek out people like myself to try and find their way back to where ever it is you took them from."
"Dear God, I never knew. I would never have written a single book if I had known." Tears flowed from her eyes as she spoke.
"Of course you didn't know, dear. None of you ever do. Once you do discover this, most cease writing. Some use it to try and create their own little world. Those people are in "Happy Hollow Home for the Mentally Deranged." As I said, we follow leads or requests and we track down the writers. Then we try to right the wrong as best we can. IT doesn't always work and so we are left with "ghosts" that wander houses and buildings, some not so friendly and not too happy to be still here."
"Can't you send them back to where they were?"
"If our method fails, Ian, we turned them over to those gifted in exorcisms and such. At" that point, they are no longer our concern."
"And me??? Where do I fit into all of this!?!? That "ghost isn't happy and he wants to kill me!"
"Oh, I wish he did, Ian. You came along and Sylvia fell in love with you. She quit writing for a year and when she came back, Jeffrey and his daughters were placed on a shelf. How long time is for the wanderers we don't know. To him it has been 79 years because of the date you used in the novel, Sylvia. Only 5 years for us, but eternity for poor Jeffrey. That is why he is after you, Ian. You caused Sylvia to stop his life. He watches those little girls die over and over. So understand, He does NOT want to kill you... he wants you to suffer for eternity."
"Great! So now what? How do we talk Mr.Nasty-Flame into not burning a whole in my chest for an eternity!?"
"He is terribly angry and is fighting us. He won't listen to reasoning. We have to find a way to calm him long enough to fix this."
"What do I need to do, Abby? Do I rewrite the book, finish it... tell me how I make this right?"
"First off, you need to sit down and wr..."
Suddenly, the house was filled with flames again. Sylvia and Ian began screaming as if they were burning. Ian's chest burned and he fell to the ground again. Sylvia fell to the floor and held him again. With a loud roar, Jeffrey came through the door again. The anger in his face seemed even fiercer than before. He turned and pointed at Abby, who was burning this time also.
"Do not try send me away again, Abby, or you will suffer the same way as the other two! I will have my revenge and these two and HE will Rue the day he met this woman! Just try and stop me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Into the Flames... Part 3

Sylvia and Ian watched as the flames began to consume the house. She screamed as the flesh from her body ignited. She turned her hand to look at it and screamed louder as the bones were revealed. Ian stood motionless, not two feet from her. She felt a hand touch her shoulder and jumped. She turned to look into the face of Abby. Her eyebrows crinkled in question.
"Why are you not burning!?!?!! What the hell is going on here!???"
"In time dear one, in time. For now stop and realize what you are feeling. Do you feel the flames burning you?"
"Of course I..." Sylvia stopped and stared at her hands and arms. For the first time she realized that though there was almost no flesh left on her body, she felt... Nothing. There was no burning sensation, no smell of flesh burning and there was one more thing. Her head and hair did not burn at all. She looked at Ian and saw the same phenomenon was happening to him.
"Ian, look at yourself! You are burning everywhere but your face and there is no pain!"
Ian moved for the first time since the flames had begun. He looked at his hands, now little more than bone, and shook his head.
"Sylvia, what the hell is going on here!?"
Sylvia turned back to face Abby. "It is time you started talking. We need to know what is going on and we need to know NOW!"
"Yes, you do deserve to know. Listen carefully because I will not tell this story again. eighty years ago, the man you saw walking through the flames was as real as you and I. His name was Jeffrey Thomas. He lived in that house with his wife and 2 baby daughters. They were Emily and Leona and they were 5 years old. There was no electricity in the house then, only kerosene lanterns. The two girls were playing hide and seek one day. One of them hid under a bed. The other, looking for her sister took the kerosene lantern and slid it under the bed. The flames reached out of the top of the glass and set the bed afire."
"Stop! Just stop this, Abby! That is not a story from eighty years ago! That is a novel I started many years ago and abandoned it. I couldn't come up with a ending and so I just shoved it into a drawer somewhere."
Suddenly the flames grew more intense. The furniture was being reduced to ashes all through the house. She heard a door slam shut on her porch and the sound of someone walking towards the dining room where they sat. As Sylvia and Ian stared at the opening between the living room and the dining room, Jeffrey came through the open doorway. He did not look as friendly as he had when Sylvia last saw him. His face was contorted with anger. Abby stood up and positioned herself between Jeffrey and Sylvia.
"No Jeffrey, this is not the way." Abby placed her hand on his chest and the flames turned to a bright blue and yellow. Intense heat came from them and Ian and Sylvia both could feel the heat. "She had no way of knowing that this was going to happen. You must realize that now. We have to stay focused so we can save your daughters."
He pushed her hand away from his chest and now stood in front of Sylvia and Ian. "You," he said while pointing at Ian. "You are the one that caused my daughters to be burned alive! I want you to feel everything they did!" Jeffrey reached out and touched Ian's chest. The flames turned blue and yellow again. Ian screamed out in pain. For the first time since the fire had started, he felt the searing pain of the flames that licked at his body. "I want you to feel this so you know how they felt!"
Abby rushed between them and shoved Jeffrey away from Ian. Jeffrey fell to the ground and held the place that Ian had touched.
"How? Why did he feel the pain from that man!? And what the hell did Ian ever do to this man!?" She went to Ian and held him. She could see the pain in his eyes. Her tears came out but were dried up buy the flames as soon as they touched her cheek.
"Do you really not remember what he did!? I have hated you for so many years. I wanted to kill you with my bare hands! I had to wait and that waiting has forced me to watch my little girls burn every time the anniversary of their death came around. Seventy-nine years of torture that you could not even imagine!"
"I still don't understand what I had to do with their deaths!? I wasn't even alive eighty years ago!"
"Neither was I, until she created me!" Jeffrey pointed at Sylvia again, the hatred in his eyes so horribly vivid. "She created me and my wife and my daughters and then she left us to relive this nightmare for all of eternity. But she is merely a writer. YOU!!!! You caused this horror to be eternal! And I am going to make you suffer as much!"
"How!?!? I want to know How I am responsible!!!!!"

Into the Flames part 2

Sylvia only half heard Abby talking to her. She was numb from the experience she just had. Certain she had seen the fire, no doubts that she had seen the young man, she knew she had to find out what had happened. She went into her house and sat down with a cup of coffee. The smell of burnt flesh was still fresh in her nostrils. Sher sniffed at her clothing. The pungent odor was still there also. She wondered if anyone but her would smell it. As she ponder this the doorbell rang. She walked towards the door, half afraid to answer it. She opened the door slowly and more peeked out than really looked.
"Oh Ian, it is just you."
"Well that's a nice way to greet the man you are going to marry some day."
Sylvia smiled a bit at his comment. She opened the door and let him in. "I am so sorry, sweetheart." She kissed him and then led him to the kitchen table. "Ian, I need to tell you something but you have to promise not to laugh."
"Well, if you tell a joke, I may indeed laugh."
"What?"
"Nothing dear... tell me what is on your mind. And I promise you that I will not laugh."
Sylvia told him everything that had happened to her. She told of the man that had invited her into the flames. Ian listened intently and he did NOT laugh.
"Maybe you have been working to hard. Is any of this in your book? Maybe you wrote this and then dreamed it."
"Ian, I did not write this nor make it up. I am writing a "who done it" mystery right now and there are no flames in the book! You need to believe me. I am telling you wha..."
In the middle of her sentence, Ian had stood up and walked into her den. She stopped talking and watched him go directly to her computer. He stood in front of it, his eyes moving back and forth in a way that told her he was reading whatever she had on the screen.
"Darling, you need to come look at this."
Sylvia stood up and went to his side. Her eyes welled up with tears and she found herself needing to sit down.
"Are you ok sweetheart!?" Ian's question was filled with sounds of stress.
She turned and looked up at him, his baby blue eyes staring back at her through the tuft of hair that fell over his eyes. "Ian, I didn't write that! I never put those words down. It isn't even part of the story-line, for God's sake!" Her voice was beginning to crack as she fought back tears.
"Darling, if you scroll back, it is exactly the story line. A man gets trapped in a burning house. He had gone back in to rescue his wife and children. He gets trapped and doesn't want his wife to..."
"I can read, Damn-it! I know what it says!" Sylvia read the last words typed. {One day you too will walk in the flames and it wont hurt a bit.} Her tears flowed now as she laid her head on the computer desk. Ian rubbed her shoulders and kissed her hair. "It does not make any sense at all. Why would I write a story like this? My stories about two lovers trapped in relationships they can not get out of."
Suddenly, as Sylvia and Ian watched the screen, flames began to lick at her computer. They scorched the table and chairs in the room, leaving only the computer un-touched by the searing flames. Ian reached for the plug to shut it down and screamed out in pain.
"Damn, what the hell is going on here, Sylvia!? I just burned the hell out of my hand." He held his palm out for her to see. The burns were deep and she was certain he needed to see a doctor.
"Ian, I told you there was something not right going on!" As she spoke, the keys began to move on her keyboard. They watched as words formed and sentences were typed. "Only by the cleansing of fire can you be saved. Please come into the flames and save us both."
"I don't know what it wants me to do, Ian." She placed her hand to the screen. It was cold to the touch. She crinkled her nose and pressed a bit harder. Her hand passed through the screen as if it were liquid. She felt a tug from the other side on her hand. "Something is trying to pull me into the screen, Ian. I am trying to get free. Hold me tight and do not let me go inside, please!!!!"
Ian took hold of her at the waist and held her tight. He could feel the pull on her body. The keys moved up and down faster and faster as Ian read them while holding on to Sylvia as tight as her could.
{It is only by the flames she can be cured. I will have her Ian. In the end, it is the Only way. Let her go now!}
"No, I will not let her go until we know why she is being pulled into the flames! We deserve an explanation!"
Suddenly the door opened. Abby walked inside and closed the door. She walked to the computer and touched it. The flames suddenly died out and the charred remains of furniture were all that was left to show a fire had happened. She took Sylvia's hand and took her to the table.
"I know you have a lot of questions, dear... and they Will all be answered,in time. But one thing at a time, Dear."
Abby raised her hands and suddenly, the entire house was engulfed in flames.

Into the Fire!

Spring went directly into Autumn. The Summer was simply hot and Sylvia didn't do "hot." What she also did not do was work, at least not in the traditional get up, get dressed and go to work type work. Sylvia was a writer. She traveled around the world, looking for places that set the mood for her next novel. The surroundings were everything to her when she wrote. "You can't write a novel about the ocean while you are staring at the Mohave desert," she would say. Perhaps she was right. Who was to say differently.
She stepped outside of her lakeside cottage and breathed in the air. The smell of a fireplace made it's way from her nostrils to her heart. Pine filled the air and it had the feeling that the entire world was at a bonfire. Leaves were making their seasonal change of colors. The once vibrant green leaves on the sky high Maples, had in the blink of an eye, become multi-colored. Light reds and oranges accompanied by yellow and auburn were neatly spread across the leaves, some sharing their colors all on one single leaf. She had come to this little "retirement" community to write the middle of her newest, sure to be best seller. Where the next segment of her novel would take her was any ones guess. She only took her gaze away from the beauty that surrounded her when she heard her neighbor call out to her.
"Is this place beautiful or what Sylvia? I don't know why Dale and I didn't move out here years ago."
Dale was Abby's sort of husband. He did as he was told and stayed in the house most of the time. Abby was a lady of good blood. Her family had come to America during World War II, as many families from England had. They brought their riches with them and settle into America very well to do. Her father invested in American real-estate and their money never stopped growing. Abby never missed the chance to tell anyone she met that she was "extremely" well off. Dale's father had been her families accountant for 25 years. From playing house with Dale as a child to real life house, they had been together for the better part of 45 years.
"How is the book coming along, Sylvia? Need any help with it?"
Sylvia smiled kindly at Abby. "It is going well, thank you. I think I am still alright on my own for now. I do thank you for the offer though."
"Well, I am a bit of a writer myself, you know."
"Yes, so you have told me in the past. I promise to keep you in mind should I have need of an assistant."
Abby smiled at her and turned away.
Sylvia turned towards the smell of the chimney smoke and breathed it again. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the comforting fragrance as she thought about her novel. Where would it take her to next? Suddenly her nose crinkled and her eyes opened. The fresh clean smell of cherry wood and pine was now replaced with a new smell. She looked up at the smoke, now more puffing it's way out then flowing. The smokey grey color of smoke was now a darker, heavier hue. Suddenly, the unmistakable smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils. She sneezed and held her nostrils closed with two fingers. Abby apparently smelled the odor too as she turned to Sylvia with a look of panic on her face.
"Go call 911, Abby! Do it fast! I am going down to see if I can help anyone! Tell them that someone is trapped inside the house. Hurry!!!!!"
Abby went into her house and did as she was told. Sylvia ran as fast as she could to the house. When she reached the front door, she could feel the heat coming through the door. She knew not to touch the door handle but there was no other way to see if someone needed her help. As she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob she let out a cry. She pulled her hand away as quickly as she could but she knew it was already too late. Some of the skin from her fingers stayed with the brass knob, leaving her with exposed skin on four of her five fingers. Tears streamed down her face as she looked at her hand. Blackened and bleeding, she held it with her other hand. She needed to get that door open somehow. She tossed her body into the door and it opened with a loud crack! Flames licked out at her and singed her hair and eyebrows. She could hear the sirens and knew the fire department was nearly there.
Inside the house, she could see the furniture burning. The dining table suddenly collapsed as the bright orange red flames devoured the rest of the furniture, piece by piece. She saw a movement behind the flames. She rubbed her eyes and thought the smoke in her eyes was causing her eyes to play tricks on her. As she looked inside again, she was certain this time she saw something. She was looking directly at the image of a young man. Though the flames engulfed every part of the house now, the boy appeared to be untouched by them. As if he had suddenly realized he was being watched, he stopped walking and looked directly at Sylvia. He smiled at her and nodded.
"Can I help you with something?" He walked through the flames towards her. Sylvia retreated to the safety of the front lawn. "Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you. Soon you too will be inside the flames and you will see it isn't so bad."
Sylvia shook her head and closed her eyes.When she opened them again, she stood staring at the house. There were no flames now. There was no young man standing in the doorway, no furniture burning. There was only an abandoned house, empty of everything except a player piano. The smell of cherry wood filled her senses, now. She looked towards her House and saw Abby still standing right where she had been standing.
"Are you hearing a word I am saying, Sylvia?"
Confused, Sylvia simply stood, staring at Abby. What had just happened to her??????

Just feeling the Love...

How do you know you are loved? Is it by a word spoken to you from someone you are close with? What causes you to stop for a moment and smile a bit, perhaps even cry just a tiny bit and feel loved?
Yesterday I had a little episode. Well let me go back a week or so. I have gained weight over the winter. Weight that I don't need at 50 years old. hell, I didn't need it at 30 to be honest, but back in the day... I could shave off 20 lbs with little effort at all. Today, not so much! I decided to follow my youngest daughters lead and diet. She chose a diet I was familiar with. It is a cabbage diet and all you eat is cabbage soup for days and weeks. So determined am I too lose this weight, I went for it all. Now I am on several medications daily. The list contains pills such as Coumadine {I have had 3 Pulmonary Embolisms i.e. Blood Clots on my lungs, one that nearly took me out of this world.} I take Lisinopril for my blood pressure and omeprazole for my tummy. I also take Nuerotin for my Restless Leg Syndrome and Pottasium, and a few others. Wowwwwwwwwwwwwww!!
Apparently, a cabbage diet doesn't set well with so many meds, etc... I ended up in the ER last night, sure I might not survive. We had been at a gas station and went in to get a coffee.Before i was able to finish paying, I became terribly dizzy. A dizziness i had never in my life felt. I hated the feeling!!!! I was without any control and just wanted to get outside to some air. The air helped a little but not enough. My family took me to the ER and I did not fight it at all. To make this not quite so long, I was checked out and given an EKG. Blood tests were ran also.It turned out to be that I was starving myself so it left me malnutritioned. It also effected my blood sugars, my INR{a measure of how thin my blood is.} My INR was climbing and my blood thinning because of the lack of good food going into me. My Potassium was way out of whack along with a few other issues. After 4 hours of taking in liquids and all the tests I was feeling better and was sent home. I was warned this could have messed me up very badly. Worse than it had!,
I tell you all of this because many times, it is when we Need to know we are loved, when we need to feel we are worthy of someones love that we find it. I watched from my bed in ER as a man, a huge man that had been and still remains not only my Father, but also a best friend for as long as I can remember, sat crying from worry. The love shared between my Father and I may go unspoken sometimes but it is never unfelt. Looking at his face, seeing the worry and the love, I KNEW I was loved. Seeing my loved ones rally around me screamed out so much Love to me and to my heart.
My youngest sister called me today just to see how I was. I felt so very loved by that act of caring and again, I felt loved, so very much loved. Then, at 10 o'clock tonight, the phone rings. It is my niece, Becca... She called to see that I was ok and to let me know she was thinking about me. That is what this write is about. It is about the knowing in my heart just how loved I am. Her call touched me and brought teares to my eyes. The act of care and concern was exactly what I needed just when I did needed it.
Each act of love and kindness only serves to make one feel so very loved. I always say be kind to ANYONE you may meet. You never know what battle they are fighting inside. Your one act of caring could be the very thing that caused a person to decide to stay or go, smile or frown, live or not live. I guess i am just saying THANK YOU to those that have touched my heart and my soul simply by caring and loving me. Sometimes God sends us Angels and we embrace the gift that is from Our Father God In Heaven... Always, Darrel...

To be Bipolar or Not to Be??? Is that a question?

Hmmmm??? One hell of a question really.I often wonder what or whom i would have been if not for the Bipolar. Would I have done certain things if I had not been? Would I even know the difference? And truly, do people really go their entire lives and never know a moment of wishing they simply weren't here? I can not fathom a world where I would never have to get up every morning and talk myself into staying. A world where my realities and my ummmm not so realities did not clash. One question at a time please...
Who would i have been if I had not been Bipolar. And let's just think for a moment that not all of this set in later in life. I always felt different from others. I always wanted to do things that were maybe not so right in other peoples world but fit perfectly into mine. So many people wanted to "rise above" the underdog or not in status. I was extremely comfortable there and perhaps more popular. I was multi-functional if I may use that phrase. I mingled well with both sides and only a few felt I was below their worth. I was smart, nice looking and had a huge heart. Those were elements that laid a path for success. But I was also a little neurotic, somewhat unbalanced and loud and forward because I was shy and scared. What a mess huh???
I could have been a Doctor or Lawyer or anything I wanted to be. I had the mind, I had the personality. What was it I didn't have??? I had the same opportunities as anyone else. I never felt nor feel slighted. Something inside of me simply kept me from pursuing those things.I don't know if you start out Bipolar and mature in it or if you start out a little tilted and then graduate up. I only know that I always felt that I could rule a kingdom one day and was born to be a slave the next day. Never an even keel.So what would i have been if not bipolar? A different me maybe but still where I am today. Who would I have been? A more serious maybe, less sensitive and caring person. Faithful and straight. Wowwwww, I don't know that I would have liked that. Possibly less of this vast imagination that has gifted me in the way of writing. Unpublished maybe, and unrealized... I wonder???
To be or not to be Bipolar, that was the question. Though there are many facets of this disorder I would like to not experience, i.e. the Highs that tell me I can conquer the world and the Lows that take me to places no one wants to go and some don't return from. The inability to make decisions at times and the fears that someone is always trying to take me down. But!!!!! I like who i am and what I do. I love to care for many and give of myself and my heart. I love to laugh and smile and make the world smile with me. I like having fun and watching my loved ones, my family smile.
Ahhhhhhhhhh, and in pops the Bipolar I have been talking about. My mind swirls in a mini-tornado. My eyes well up with tears as my mind wanders and wonders what my family really thinks of me. No one talks about it. No one asks about it because well, I guess they like to think it perhaps doesn't exist. I don't know the reason. Maybe to some, it isn't something that is real. "All in my head??" Ummmmm, yea!!! That is a truer statement than they will ever know. Do I wish they would ask??? YES! DO I think they will? No... Ahhhhhh, my mind really kicks my butt sometimes. I wonder... What do they really think!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
To be or not to be Bipolar? Please don't try to change me... I am fine. Always, Darrel

Spring Cleaning the Heart

Sunday morning, and as i look out the window from my computer, I watch the snow falling down slowly but surely. It is April and the first day of Spring has come on gone. I wonder if sometimes Winter doesn't get the message. Or perhaps it is like life. Winter wants to remind us of it's power to sap the desire to be anywhere but right where we are right out of us. It brings with it the cold our bodies have already begun to faze out. We are seasoning ourselves for the warmer weather we have been teased with for a few weeks now. I look it with disappointment and shake my head. I just said last week to my daughter that we still had one more big one coming. I hate it when I am right!
Now my thoughts drift to another season that passed 3 years ago. I think about the promise made that new life would come back to me. I say new life because my life changed totally and suddenly the day that Sheila went to heaven. Nothing would ever be the same for me. Today, my heart is a little like the Robins I see skirting around the bare tree branches, trying to find shelter from the cold and snow. I look forward and think of the warmth that everyone says is mine to embrace. I search through the cold of emptiness that was left for me when she went away. i know that there is a Spring coming that will bring forth new life and a new path to walk. But unlike the snow, the knowing that it will melt away again, I wonder if I will ever truly know a Springtime in my soul again.
With the new season, we find our selves opening windows and "airing" out the house. Out with the old air and in with the new. We clean the windows, floors, cubbies we have stored things in through the winter. We invite in new smells and new sites as the Springtime gives forth it's array of colors. We remember from years gone by that there will be warmth and there will be sunshine galore. There will be flowers to plant and gardens to grow. And in my heart????
Will I too need to open windows from my heart? Will I need to reach into the "cubbies" of my soul and move some things around or let them go? Flowers are to me the memories of our past. They are beautiful and they reach out and warm our souls. I will plant new flowers and watch them grow? Fears well up inside me as I think about it all. Change is nearly an impossibility for me. The bipolar does it's part in making it a huge task simply to accept change. Doesn't change, isn't airing life out, letting go? Doesn't letting go translate into forgetting?
Like the winter that has returned today, my heart, ready for Spring, has filled with snow. I see the Spring that can be and want to capture it and make it mine. But, I think about the "airing out" of the house and heart. I know that habits I have will creep back into the house and each time the windows close, those same habits will fill the house until next the windows are open. The smoke from my cigarettes is likened to the memory in my heart. It's smells and it's calming of my heart will be there. But so too will be the fear that if I open the windows too far... if I clean out too much, that I will forget. My heart can not ever do that. She is my forever love and though one may come to me and be my partner until I too go to heaven, Sheila is always in my thoughts and my memory. She is still the reason I do some things the way that I do them. She is still my tears in the night and my heart in the day.
Ahhhh, the snow... it does not appear to be anywhere near stopping today. I look out at what is already 6 inches and 3 to 6 more to go. I have shoveled and clear off the sidewalk once already and yet you can not see where I cleared it. The same is my heart. I don't know that it will stop anytime soon. Like the snow,it will find sunshine and I have seen glimpses of that springtime and it is bitter/sweet. I want it and see it but I fear it just as much. Funny how a "Spring" blizzard, and that is what we are having today, can take ones mind to places that had HOPED that Spring would keep away. Do I make any sense at all here or is this simply the ramblings of a man that wants new life and new love to take root and grow strong???
Perhaps the heart is like a perennial flower that inside, buried under the cold and snow, lies life that will return every year with the warmth of Spring. Is it so bad to want to love deeply again? Am I forgetting if I go forward and leave winter behind? My heart is so heavy and my mind so full. Sometimes I just want to go away!!!!!!