Posted in adventure, Blogging, escape, fun, Holidays, kids, Life, living, parenting, travel

Vacation Recap, Day One: Pismo

pismo

I am writing this from a hotel room in Pismo at 5:15 in the morning, and I have this to say- the number one time that my bizarre sleeping habits get on my nerves is when I am away from home. It doesn’t matter what time I go to sleep (although, in the spirit of full disclosure, I will admit that I was asleep by probably 8 last night) I always wake up between 4:30 and 5. This is fine when I am at home, but when I am not, it can be a little…limiting. It’s not like I can take off and go exploring. I have a seven year old who is a bit of a night owl, and I know she was up late because I finally threatened her life at 11 last night if she didn’t put the Kindle away and try to sleep. Also, I am writing this to the smooth sounds of Larry King and some other guy, pedaling some type of credit repair scheme on an infomercial. I can’t find the TV remote, and I don’t know how to turn it off.

On the plus side, I had the presence of mind to bring my Starbucks Via Instant Vanilla Latte packets with me, so I don’t have to go without coffee or drink the awful crap they give you in these bargain hotels! I have heard horror stories about using the little coffee pots anyway, and even though they might not be true, I don’t generally want to gamble on that. Another good thing is that my trusty little laptop seems to be working okay so far, so I get to write this while I let Cammy sleep. Hey! I just found the off switch for the TV! I am so happy! I have a hard time writing with background noise. Ah, that really is better.

Okay, so here’s the recap for day one: I had a chiropractor appointment at 9:30 yesterday, and I had to go, so I went to that real quick, hoping that whatever he did to me didn’t make my lower back hurt even worse than it already did. As an aside, I will tell you that my back was REALLY hurting yesterday morning, after my first night in my brand new bed which was a terrible bummer, but…the doctor told me to give my back a few weeks to adjust. Anyway, naturally, whatever he did to me made everything a thousand times worse, and then he put some long strips of black tape on my back, which I have to leave there for several days. I was determined to let none of the deter me, though, so on I went. I got my car washed and vacuumed, and got my oil changed like a responsible adult, went home, grabbed our stuff, and off we went, stopping for gas real quick on our way out of town.

Literally, within 30 minutes, Camryn was asking “How many more hours til we get there?” Which confirmed for me that I had made the right call in deciding to stick closer to home on this trip. But all in all she was a good sport, eventually just covering her head with my sweater and taking a light snooze. I just enjoyed the drive through farmland and rolling hills, feeling a little bit thrilled with the scenery and the Spanish names of all the little towns I passed by, like Santa Margarita and others I already forgot. Anyway, we rolled into town about 3 o’clock, and had no trouble at all finding the hotel.

The hotel. Oh, God, this is so funny. There’s this thing that happens in my brain whenever I am at a hotel that is somewhat sub-par. I imagine my mother there with me, being outraged about whatever thing is just not right. So, anyway, I booked the room online, and of course, they showed pictures of the sparkling blue pool, and the neat, cozy rooms. What they didn’t show, however, was the back row of rooms (where I am staying) that have an expansive view of…wait for it…a GIANT mud pit, with a rather quaint, meandering mud river flowing through it. There are tractors, also, placed artfully around in the mud, and in the distance, there is just a peek of a lovely RV village. The version of my mother that I carry around with me is disgusted by this. Luckily, if anything, I find it amusing, so no biggy.

quality inn pool

We dumped our stuff in our room, and headed out to find food. I don’t know where anything is in this town, so I picked a place out of the little book they leave in hotel rooms, and we headed there. Unfortunately, I missed my turn, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise as I found myself right in the little downtown area quite by mistake, and I rolled right into a public parking lot, where we decided to just walk around and see the sights. There were the usual salt water taffy places, and surf shops, and kitschy little souvenir stores- all stuff I could see any day of the week at home, but of course, it was all much more interesting because it was somewhere new. As we searched for a place to eat, I saw a young couple eating what looked like fresh potato chips, and since the original place we were going to eat at was called “Chipwrecked”, specializing in homemade chips, I asked where they’d gotten them. Sure enough, the place I had been shooting for was right there across the street! Lucky again!

The restaurant is tiny, and there was only one person working behind the counter, but we waited, placed our order (I got the bella bella, a Portobello sandwich, Cam got a grilled cheese) and then proceeded to wait some more. The poor lady working hadn’t planned on it being so busy, and we weren’t in a hurry at all, so I just hung out in the sun outside. The food was really good, the chips were good, but the best part was that there were tons of dipping sauces for the chips that you could try. I got the loaded baked potato, which I realized a bit too late had bacon in it (Meatless March, remember?) and the beer cheddar ( one dip and it had so much beer in it that I almost called my sponsor…another oops.) but they were both really good. I didn’t keep going with the beer one, but I’m not going to lie, I finished the one with bacon. Cam tried the brownie batter dip- it was really good with the salty chips, but she just ate it plain. I mean…we’re on vacation, right? Live it up, kid. By the time we finished eating, the place had cleared out, and I got to chat with the woman behind the counter- turns out, her name is Sarah, she’s the owner, and I’m pretty sure we are best friends now. Totally unflappable woman, with big dimples when she smiles, and from the looks of it, lots of loyal local customers who were more than happy to wait for their food. That tells you everything you need to know, in my opinion. Solid place.

chipwrecked

Oh my gosh, these Latte’s are clearly working their magic on me. This is a long ass post. Anyway, after that we came back to the room, put on our suits, and hit the heated pool and massive hot tub for about two hours. It was awesome. Cam found some kids to play with while I just soaked, and I didn’t even have to worry because the pool was only 4.5 feet deep. When we were done, I ran Cam to McDonalds for more food (I was still stuffed) and I told her “I’m so tired…I’m just exhausted…but in a good way.” And then the light bulb went off over my head. “I’m relaxed!! That’s the word I was looking for!” To be honest with you, that’s not a word I use very often in relation to myself. I guess that is what vacations are for, right?

Well, if you made it this far, congrats! I left out the part where we went to the beach, but now it’s in here, so…yeah. I’ll be checking in again soon for part two!

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Posted in Addiction, friendship, fun, Goals, Holidays, inner peace, Learning, Life, living, mindfulness, Musings, People, recovery, relationships, twelve step

Surfacing

surfacing by chuck aves
art credit: Chuck Aves

I decided I better write this out before I do my usual blog reading session this morning, because I know there will be a million stories from my fellow writers about the year behind and the year ahead. I want my words to at least feel original on their way out! So here we go:

2017

This year has been one of the best years of my entire life, and I am not exaggerating. It has been a year of incredible self examination and change on a deep level. I am not the person I was 365 days ago, and I like this version of myself so much more. I put another year between me and the worst of my past, and so much of the fear and doubt and self loathing that I didn’t even know I was lugging around with me for so long, it has diminished. I am ending this year so much lighter than I started out- both lighter, as in carrying so much less, and lighter, less covered in darkness.  This year has been HARD, but it was work I needed to do, and I’m glad that I did. There is a calm place inside of me that I can almost always reach now, and there is a brake to slow me down where there never was before. I don’t have to escalate. I can hear myself. I am learning to mind my responses, that I don’t always have to react.

I lost someone that I love this year. It has been four months and four days since he died, and I think about him every single day. I thought about him every single day when he was alive, too. I don’t know what else I can say about this that I haven’t already written about here or here . A little bit of my heart, the only one who shared a lot of my favorite memories, and a really valued friend left the physical world, and I miss him. But I survived it, I stayed clean, and I learned how to grieve deeply, and that you can grow that way, too.

I feel like in 2017, I dived into the depths, and did some much needed exploration and learning. I brought light to places that had been dark for so, so long. I found places that had been forgotten, and brought them back into order. I have seen parts of myself I didn’t know existed, and know myself so much better now. I can look at myself from a different and kinder perspective, and it’s such a relief. But you can only stay under for so long.

2018

Surfacing. Open. Curiosity. Interest. Joy. Inspiration. yes.

These words are the theme I have chosen for the year ahead. Of course, these words are MY choice, which means, if I get a vote, this is what mine will be. We don’t always get to choose.

If I do get to choose, however, I will have a year that is mostly lighthearted, and filled with love. I will have a year filled with appreciation of all that I have already, and all of the new things that will come into my world. There will be road trips, and plane flights, friendship and laughter. I am open to the possibility of love (you guys don’t even know how embarrassing that was for me to write. Definitely need to do some work in that area!) if it is easy and it fits- and if it is not easy, then it has to be worthy of working for.

My choice will be a year of connection, and togetherness, and bonding. I feel like I did so much solitary work this past year- it was good, and it SO needed to happen. But I am ready to venture out into the light of the great big beautiful world, and learn how to play with others. I want to go hiking, and to the flea market, and on day trips and weekend trips, play board games, get dressed up for dinner, and sit around in living rooms that aren’t my own, maybe, laughing until my sides ache. That is the kind of year I see for myself.

Now, don’t get me wrong- I have all of the usual resolutions, and maybe I will write more about them tomorrow. But today, I needed to state my intentions for the year to the Universe.

Last year was amazing. This year will be the best one yet. Happy New Year’s Eve, everybody.

Posted in Addiction, alcoholism, family, health, Holidays, inner peace, Life, living, Musings, People, recovery, relationships, spirit, twelve step

The Best Christmas Yet.

the best christmas yet

 

In the 42 years I have been on this planet, I have had all kinds of Christmases. I have had magical ones- lots of those, thanks to my mom, who REALLY pulled out all the stops every year to make it special for us kids. I have had terrible ones- I remember a year, when Aisley must have been about seven, when I had stayed up partying all night, and all of her presents were from the dollar store. Also, a guy I didn’t know was passed out on my living room floor, left there by his friend the night before when we couldn’t wake him up. We just stepped over him. That’s the kind of life I have lived.  I have had angry Christmases, and lonely ones, Christmas days filled with too much driving, too much fighting, and too much wishing I was somewhere else.

But I have never, ever, had a Christmas day when I was so overcome with gratitude as I listened to the sound of my family- all the people I love most in the world- chattering away and laughing in the living room behind me, that I broke down in tears. Not just a pretty little drop or two as I brushed garlic butter onto bread, but full on, “Oh shit, Courtney, this is not the time for a breakdown” kinda tears. Sobs, you might even say. I don’t know how to describe it to you, the way I was feeling, except for that worn out word, grateful. So, so, so full of gratitude that it hurt a little bit.

Because that, that feeling that I had, that sent tears pouring out of my eyes, and my mother rushing to hug me- that, my friend, is what recovery is. All the meetings that I make and the stepwork that I do, all the self reflection and correction and digging deep and starting over, forgiving myself, forgiving others, all the TRYING. All of the never taking anything, no matter what- THAT is what I have been searching for, and striving for, and wanting in my life and heart all along. That feeling of peace. That feeling of love, and belonging, and contentment and family. I have been really working a 12 step program for two and half years straight, but I have been trying to be where I was yesterday my entire adult life. My whole life.

If you are reading this, and you are new in recovery, I want to encourage you to stay the course. Don’t give up. There were times in the beginning when I was more miserable than I had been when I was using. I had zero coping skills, nothing left to take the edge off, and my brain was fucked up, even if I couldn’t come to terms with that at the time. My temper was as short fused as ever, and goddammit, I got clean so that I could stop being so hateful, but it didn’t seem to be working. If this sounds familiar, just wait. Just find whatever small improvements you do see, and hold onto them. Know that it will change.

When I had about a year clean, I got really mad at my mom, for a good long while. She didn’t do anything wrong, and I didn’t understand it- I hated it, actually. I was afraid that I was going to stay mad forever, and it scared me. But I had faith that I was working through old shit, feeling feelings that I should have felt a long time ago, and I held on. I kept pushing forward, inch by inch. One day, I looked for the anger that I had almost gotten used to lugging around with me, and I found that it had faded. Day after day, it lessened, leaving me surprised by what took its place- love, warmth, affection, acceptance. Yesterday, I can tell you, I did not have one single weird feeling where my mom is concerned. I never felt judged or criticized, picked on or even remotely insulted. The reason I am telling you this is because relationships change in recovery. You will change, and they will change.

Every single person in my house yesterday has been hurt by me in my addiction. Every. Single. One. I just now realized that. Wow. How blessed am I, that I get to make a living amends to these people? That they have forgiven me? That they still love me, that they are so proud of me? I literally would not have ANY of it if I wasn’t clean. I wouldn’t have it, and I wouldn’t even know that I wanted it. I would still be trying to fill that hole in my spirit with all the wrong things, wondering why everything hurt so much.

Listen, I want everyone to be able to feel the way I felt yesterday. If you have reached the end of your rope, and you need some help figuring out what to do next, shoot me an email. I will try to help you figure out a solution. Clduncan1@outlook.com, or just message me here.  And again, if you are new in recovery, I promise you- the pain will be worth the gain. It will be worth every second.

Posted in Addiction, faith, family, Holidays, inner peace, Learning, Life, love, mindfulness, People, recovery, relationships, twelve step

This Christmas…

 

Christmas

I am sitting here, at 5:24 a.m. on Christmas Eve, full of excitement and nerves. In just a little while, my oldest daughter and her boyfriend, who may as well be my third child, are going to be here to spend the night and wake up on Christmas morning with our little family (EXCITED!). Tomorrow, my mom, stepdad, and uncle are coming here, to MY house, to spend the day and have Christmas dinner…HERE. With ME! (NERVOUS!)

I am going to have a house full of the most important people in my life, and I could just cry over how happy it makes me. Every single year before this, I either had to drive three hours to spend a hurried Christmas at my late Grandparent’s home, or I opted out, and stayed home, missing everyone. I know that not every year will be this way- sometimes I am going to have to go to them. But this year, I made my mind up to stay home, and I wasn’t going to budge. And I am so happy that everyone is coming here. My uncle never goes ANYWHERE, so this is a really big deal!

I want to make it as special and warm and happy as I can for everyone, and lets be real- I am not exactly the hostess of the year. I’ve been known to run and hide in the bathroom when someone unexpectedly shows up at my door. Or stay very, very still until they go away. So I keep finding myself getting bunched up with anxiety, worried about the state of my home (i’ll be cleaning like crazy for most of today) or how small my house is, or how shoddy and fur covered my couch is, or…but you know what?

None of that stuff matters. If it matters to certain other people (cough-my mom-cough) then I need to remember that that is her shit, not mine. My job is to do the best I can, but more than that, to enjoy my family. So that is what I am going to do. I have managed, for the first time in my life, to make it through this hectic season with love in my heart and a smile on my face. I have been as generous and thoughtful and kind as I know how to be- even when no one was around to witness it. I have kept my program of recovery in mind, and tried to behave accordingly because I want to be a good example- this one fell flat many times, but the point is, I am trying. REALLY trying. Because I want so much to have a happy life, not just a happy Christmas.

But really, what it comes down to is this: I have decided I WILL have a wonderful Christmas, so that is what I have set about creating. I can’t absolutely control the outcome- first of all, no one ever can do that, and secondly, control is the very thing I am working on relinquishing- but I have done all the things I can, both inside of me and out, to invite the best outcome. And I have made up my mind to enjoy whatever comes.

One thing I know for sure is that my family has given me the best gift of all just by agreeing to show up. I feel pretty freaking loved.  Which makes it SO much easier to get into the Christmas Spirit, you know? It stopped being about what was under the tree for me a LONG time ago. Sometimes, it wasn’t about anything, and I couldn’t feel much besides stress and irritation, relief when it was all over. But this year- this year is very different. I think for the first time ever, my head is clear enough, my heart healed enough, that I can access the things that matter most of all during the holidays- Love, Family, Peace, Hope.  It’s been such a long road for me, but I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s so nice to be right where I am.

I hope all of you get to have something like this feeling I have today. If not today, then very soon. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays.

Posted in Addiction, Depression, health, Holidays, humor, inner peace, Learning, Life, living, Mental Health, mindfulness, Musings, People, random, twelve step

Over November

november rain

 

I am here, finally, to report that I made it through fucking November. You probably don’t even know why this is such a big deal, and quite frankly, neither do I- all I know is, for whatever reason, November is a HARD month for me. I seem to backslide a lot in November, and if you follow my blog at all, you know what I mean. If you don’t…sigh…I’ll just say it for you, but you really should go back and read some of my other stuff. It’s pretty entertaining. Anyway, I have a tendency to suffer terribly with addiction in the month of November. Actively, if you catch my drift.

Anyway, that didn’t happen this particular month. I think, this time, I was prepared for the weird onslaught of less desirable feelings I am beset by when the days get short, and it gets cold, and everything seems so hard to deal with. I basically gave myself permission to slack off in every other area, as long as I could just get through the month okay. That was my mantra- “Just Get Through This Month”. So, knowing what to expect, and cutting myself some slack, it seemed to do the trick.

It didn’t really hurt that I spent a week of that dreaded month in beautiful Maui, where November, apparently, does not hang out. They just double up on June over there. So I had an extra week of summer, which may have sustained me. I have been trying to figure out how to get back there ever since I have been home. I am not even kidding.

But now, sitting here, safely ensconced in December, I realize that, hard as November may be for me, it has also been a learning month for me. I have finally learned that this month is hard for me, and if I don’t want to be in big trouble, I need to formulate a plan to avoid it. Not the month, the big trouble. I have learned that I need to talk about it to the people I talk to these things about, and recognize the thought processes within me that lead me to dangerous ground.

November is a teacher, and this time I aced my exams. But still, I am glad it is over.

I know it has been a long time since my last post, and I feel really bad about it- especially since writing is, like, the best thing I know how to do. But sometimes, it’s just necessary to do what you have to do for yourself. That is what I have been doing. Hopefully, I am back for a while. 🙂

Posted in fun, Holidays, humor, Learning, Life, Musings, People

5 Good Reasons to Go to the Party

christmas party

If you are like me, (and I hate to be the one to break it to you, but, no matter what you are telling yourself, you ARE) then something funny happens to you when you are invited to a party. I am not talking about a kids birthday party, either, because no one who has reached puberty ever wants to go to those, including the parents of the child whose birthday it is. We just go because it is the right thing to do, and also because if we don’t, they can opt out of OUR children’s future parties, and that, my friend, is where society starts to break down. We go to kids parties to fill seats at our own kids parties, essentially. Not pretty, but generally true. But, shockingly, I digress. What I AM talking about is an invitation to a grown-up party, say, perhaps, a Christmas party, for example. The kind that clearly, in writing, states “No Children”.

Sort of like the one I was given, about a month ago, by, ironically, the woman who runs my daycare. I know, I know- you are thinking “Your daycare lady invited you to an adults only Christmas party? Like, she’s a DAYCARE provider…so…I mean…how does she know about adult PARTIES?”, and I totally get where you are coming from. But, I assure you, this woman is not your typical mini-van, soccer mom, daycare lady. She is actually really cool. Way cooler than me, if I’m being real. She has ten, yes TEN, children of her own, most of whom are grown and out on their own. She is chill, in a “I raised ten kids, so there is pretty much nothing that can faze me” kind of way. She has cool hair, she works out in one of those cross-fit type gyms where it is pretty normal to throw up in the course of your morning, and she has a ton of friends. This lady knows how to throw a party. So, when I got my invitation, I felt like Charlie when he got the golden ticket.

I was fine, and super excited, until about Monday of last week. That’s when that weird thing that I have been trying to write about since the first paragraph started happening. And I am pretty sure you already know what I am going to say, since pretty much every single person I have brought it up to says they feel exactly the same. So, I am all set to go to the party. I have a sitter, I know what I am bringing (everyone was told to bring appetizers instead of kids) (that was not really how it was said, of course) and I am pretty clear on what I am wearing. Except…all of the sudden, I don’t really want to go. I am tired. I won’t even know anyone there. She only invited me to be polite…she doesn’t really want me to actually show up. These are actual thoughts I had leading up to the day of the party. The day of the party, yesterday, they only intensified, and it was like there was an actual battle going on inside of me- there was the me that was going to the goddamned party, if for no other reason than I said that I would, and there was the crazy me, who was like ” But I am TIRED!” “Why are you doing this to me? This is going to SUCK!” “You are going to feel so stupid walking in there all alone!” “You are definitely going to embarrass yourself.” And on and on and on…

But you know what? Fuck that crazy voiced me! I was going to the party. And I did. And you know what? It was way, super, fun. So, here are five reasons why you should squash that asshole part of you that wants you to stay home for the rest of your life, and go to the party, even when you are nervous:

1) Go because you don’t even remember the last time you wore high heels- I mean, yes, you may be wearing them with jeans, but they are tight, moderately uncomfortable jeans, and that counts for something, right? I mean, seriously, there is more to life than yoga pants (and scrubs, if you are me, which you clearly are not, but you know what I mean), Ugg boots or tennis shoes, and bra-optional environments (If you are over 30 and an A cup, home is really the only bra optional environment, just to be clear.). Suck it up for one night, and suck it in- it won’t kill you. If you aren’t sure how to doll yourself up for an evening event, just do what I did, and put on MORE make-up- wing your eyeliner, re-apply your mascara, pick the next darkest shade of eye shadow, wear red lipstick. Curl your hair. So what if it’s raining, you will still think you look like you did when you left your house, and besides…there may just be one 29 year old girl at the party who nearly dies of shock when she learns you are ten full years older than her. I loved that girl, bless her little heart.

2) Go because you will know at least a couple of people there, even if it’s just the person who invited you, and one or two of her friends. If you live in a smaller town, like I do, you will know at least two people well, and be familiar with others, and it will be good to talk again without kids interrupting- even if all you talk about are the kids that you are finally getting a break from.

3) Go because you have probably forgotten how awesome you are! Seriously, all that stuff you were thinking, about how socially awkward and inappropriate you are? Hogwash! The vision you had in your head of sitting, alone, in a corner chair, trying not to see the pity in everyone’s eyes as they avoided you? Uh…that is not going to happen. Chances are, if you have a night like I had, you will remember how good you are at talking to people, about anything at all, and you will realize that all the mean things your teenage daughter said about your awful personality were total LIES. People love you.

4) Go because you are almost certainly going to find yourself laughing out loud, with other people, not the “LOL” we use as a response on Facebook. It feels really good to actually laugh, out loud, with other grown ups.

5) Go, because all of these things, above, will make you feel really, really, good about yourself, and we could all use a little of that, am I right? You need to break from your stifling routine sometimes, painful as the process may be, simply because you have almost certainly forgotten how much fun you can have…And more importantly, how much fun you can BE.

I am so glad I did not allow the paranoid, reclusive, side of me to talk me out of what turned out to be a really great night. I hope you take my advice and go. There may be a million lame excuses you are making to stay home, but now you have five solid reasons you should go- have fun, and happy holidays!

Posted in Blogging, friendship, fun, Holidays, Learning, Life, Musings, People, psychic abilities, random, spirit, story telling, the occult

Do You Believe in Ghosts?

ghosts

So, the seasons are changing, the nights are getting colder, perhaps fires are being lit in your living room (or if you are super lucky, your bedroom) hearths. Your front step may show evidence of the fast approaching Halloween, little pumpkins waiting to be carved into smiles and grimaces. I even have a scarecrow this year! What better time, then, to bring up a subject that almost everyone loves to chime in on- GHOSTS! If you don’t have a story of your own, you definitely have heard plenty over the years, right?

My question to you is, do you believe in ghosts? Like, REALLY believe in them? My sincere hope is that everyone reading this will share their stories in the comments below, or on my Facebook page, because, on top of the fact that I LOVE to tell my own personal ghost story, I SO love hearing other people’s personal encounters with the paranormal. Now, I am going to tell you mine, and it is 100% true! If you don’t believe me, you can totally ask my mother, as she was there and lived through it, too. Some of her memories will be different than mine- this all started when I was eight years old- but I can promise you that it was an experience neither of us will ever forget.
So, when I was 8, my mother was pregnant with my brother, and we moved into a bigger house, a pretty nondescript, standard, home at 530 W. Dayton, in Fresno. It was a hideous mustard color, at least when we got there, but it had a huge backyard. Anyway, within our first few days there, the first thing happened, and it is the one that I am the most confident of all of. I was laying on my twin bed in my little room, and my mom and grandma had just walked out a few moments before. I was reading (of course), when suddenly, the top drawer of my dresser, right next to the bed, just slid open, all the way. Quickly, as if someone had yanked it, hard. I remember being SO terrified that I couldn’t scream- I opened my mouth to yell for my mom, and nothing came out. By the time I could make a sound, I felt quite wild and deranged. The women came running back in, and I told them what had happened, but I could tell they didn’t believe me.
Pretty soon, though, my mom and my step dad, and eventually, even my little brother, were quite aware that we were not living in that house alone. There was tons of regular poltergeist activity, ranging from footsteps in the hall, to glasses and dishes rattling in the cupboard, to entire boxes of cereal flying across the room. No Shit. The rocking chair would rock with no one in it, and no breeze to explain it, things would disappear and then show up in impossible places.
If that had been all of it, I think it would have been bearable. But it seemed to escalate, and the atmosphere in that house became truly unbearable. I don’t know how to explain it to you- if you have ever lived in a house with an unhappy spirit, you will know exactly what I mean…I was eleven, and I couldn’t be alone in that house. I would walk home from school, unlock the front door, and try to sit on the couch to watch TV. Most of the time, the feeling in that place was so oppressive, so terrifying, that I would wind up sitting on the front step until my parents got home. I couldn’t even be in there. You were never alone, and whatever lived there, unseen, did not want me there.
My mother was up late one night, and she heard my brother walking ( he was a toddler, then) down the hall towards her room. She was reading, and she didn’t look up until the footsteps stopped at the foot of her bed, and a strange voice said “Mama!”. Then, her head snapped up, and no one was there. My brother was asleep in his bed. Eventually, he refused to go into his room at night, screaming in terror, and pointing into the corners, hysterical. I will let my mom finish that story, though, because I don’t really remember it well.
We later learned, from our amazing neighbors, Jack and Hazel, who had lived there since the beginning of time, that a small child had died of Leukemia or something in our very house. So that explains the little footsteps we heard often, and the voice in my mom’s room. But I have always felt like there was something much older and more negative in that place than any lost little child’s soul could ever be. I will probably never know the whole story, since we moved many years ago…but I have always wondered if the people who lived there after us had any similar experiences.
I have had other things happen in my life, but that one was definitely the longest…and for sure, the scariest. So, How about you? Do you believe in Ghosts? And if so, why? Tell me your story! I am so excited, I can’t wait!
Happy Almost Halloween!