There are many anxieties... but this one is mine.

Stress, anxiety... whatever the fuck you want to call it - SUCKS.

I have catastrophobia... which I'm not even sure is a real word. But it is pretty bad at times. I can't say exactly when it started, but I do know it has gotten progressively worse as I've aged.

This isn't the "Oh, I think the world will end" type of fear - well, not always at any rate... This is the fear that if I go, relax, let my guard down, and do something - the worst case scenario will occur. No matter what it is... ESPECIALLY if that thing is something for my own enjoyment or personal well-being. How fucked is that?

Mental Health Day...

Yesterday was the 2018 National Mental Health Day... and I took the day off of work for Mental Health Reasons.


Well, that, and to spend time with my wife and kids.

The irony being - calling in fake-sick to work... gave me a fucking panic attack. I suffer from PTSD. Sometimes horribly so. And yesterday, while having a good time out with my wife and kids - I had a little bit of a freak out.

When I do things like call in sick when I'm not, or give my kids off to my parents to go do something for myself, I get horrible guilt. This guilt compounds over time and causes anxiety. The anxiety builds up and then BAM! I get a full blown panic attack all because I wanted to take time for myself. And this is killing me...

So, as my day went on, we were having fun and I went into the local bookstore to look for some good books. This store is about as big as my living room and is floor-to-ceiling books. They have shelves everywhere and it's a narrow, confined space with no circulation, no sound, and it's hot. I... already starting to stress out from being home... started to get really uncomfortable in this place. My ears were ringing, I couldn't catch my breath, I felt like the books were going to collapse on me and kill me... it was a good time.*

When we got home I was drenched in panic-sweat and my heart felt like it was trying to beat out of my chest. So I went upstairs, turned the lights off, and curled up with the cat for 2 hours and tried to calm down. It helped a little, but not much.

Mental Health is no joke. And we all need to take care of ourselves. BUT... how can I do this when taking time to myself actually CAUSES me anxiety??  I can't stand my fucking job and it is, literally, killing me with its stress and bullshit.

What I'd like to do is sit back, smoke a shitload of weed, and try to relax... but I can't. I'm desperately trying to find a job closer to home and they all still test. I'd LIKE to find some sort of medication that helps, but the last one they put me of turned me into a fucking paranoid monster.  Seriously - that shit was awful. My wife and I both agreed it was better for me to be the way I am than the paranoid, weirdo that the pills caused... I would wake up in the middle of the night, wide awake, worried about the most ridiculous shit. I was suspicious of everyone and everything - including my wife which was a big red flag... I've been off of that shit for a few months now and things are MUCH better.

It sucks.

It all fucking sucks. 

I drink more now than I ever have in my life... which is saying something when you look at my
twenties. But it's sometimes the only way I can shut my brain off long enough to get some sleep. Then the problem arises that drinking causes dehydration and dehydration causes high blood pressure and high blood pressure helps to cause the anxiety. It's a vicious fucking circle of bullshit. But drinking seems to be the one and only option to my since our country has a hard-on for calling mental illness a weakness and shunning people... and then we destroy our healthcare in the name of political theater...

Then - to make it better - I try to explain to my boss that "sometimes I just need a minute to process some shit. I'll be fine, just let me calm down." And she - being one of those people who has done everything you've done, only better, and has advice about fucking EVERYTHING tries to belittle my PTSD with "Well, when my dad died I had some PTSD, but coming to work really helped get me back on track."

REALLY?

FUCKING REALLY???

You're DAD was sick for six years and his death was not sudden. While I, in no way, doubt that it was traumatic... It's not the same thing to be in your fifties and losing a parent as it is to have been in my twenties and watching people fucking burn to death in Iraq. Sorry. It's not a contest... but if it was, FUCK YOU.


AH - damnit. Now I'm all pissed off and forgot where I was going with this...

Take care of yourself, people. I mean - really TRY and take care of yourself. Take time for YOU. Take time for your loved ones... and Don't let all of the bullshit in the world weigh you down and pull you under.


*It was not, in fact, a good time at all...

Erotic Fiction Thursdays - By The Pool

Tom, formerly John, thinks he's dreaming. To prove he's very much awake - his new, mysterious rescuer shows him around the manor and introduces him to a new teammate in...

 Erotic Fiction Thursdays - By The Pool

    "You've died, Mr. McConnell." She smiled a perfect smile. "You are now Mr. Tom Redding. And you've been chosen for something special."
     That's what she had said to him three days ago. Since then - he hadn't been feeling apart of anything special. The drug she used to fake his death took some time work out of his system and he'd been on bed rest for two days. Today he was allowed to get up and walk around Hillcrest Manor. With Victoria as his guide. There was no way he could complain about that. Just looking at her almost made him ache with the fuzzy memories from the ordeal at the prison. He'd been given a pair of lightweight lenin pants and shirt to match. Apparently their location was warmer than his prison home of a few days ago.

   "Jesus." John, now Tom, said. "This place is huge."

   "Yes." Victoria responded with a smile. "Our benefactor has spent a great deal to see to it that we are well provisioned and well taken car of." Her loose, floral sundress flowed easily around her body and Tom tried to sneak a peak of what he was remembering of her from the prison. 

   "Our benefactor?" Tom said with a raised eyebrow. "And who might that be?"

   "All in good time, Mr. Redding." She pushed open another set of doors to brilliant sunlight and the warm, humid air hit them.

Let's Talk About SEX!

Sex...

Sex is the coolest thing ever. And I'm pretty well versed in cool shit. I've traveled all across the world, been in a war, got shot at, driven across the entire United States - like 5 times - and I was stabbed in the face by a pitchfork. What can I say? I like it rough?

Point is - I like sex.

It feels awesome to connect with someone else on such a personal level like that. But here's the strange bit - Out of all of our friends and family, my wife and I are seemingly the only ones who not only LIKE sex, but actively engage in the act on a fairly regular basis.

Erotic Fiction Thursdays - The Visitor

When John gets a visitor outside of normal prison visiting hours - he thought that was the strangest thing he'd see all day.

He was wrong.

The Visitor 

  "McConnell!" The guard's voice boomed into the cramped, 9x6 cell.
   "Yeah?"
   "Visitor." The guard looked in the door at him with a smirk. "Let's go, sunshine." He motioned towards the walkway with his baton.
   "Sure." John stood, not knowing who might be visiting him. More concerned that this was not a normal visitation hours for the prison. "Who is it?"
   "Do I look like your fuckin' secretary?" The guard said. "Fuckin' move it before I tell her I couldn't find you." His eyes raised and he cracked a smile. Not at John, but at the woman.
   "Cool." John said. So it was a woman... And apparently an attractive one by the guard's standards.
    Looks and catcalls from the cells as he walked by them and out the door. Instead of turning right and going to the visitor's room, the guard led him to the left. To the private council rooms.
   "Fuck." He whispered. "A fuckin' lawyer." It had to be a lawyer. But his lawyer was Franklin James... a fat fuck from Jersey. And, clearly, not a woman.
   "In." The guard said. He ushered John in and watched him sit and the guard reached out to cuff his hands to the table.

Erotic Fiction Thursdays - The Ghost of Titan

Commander Thomas "Archangel" Cain finds out that losing his wingman/lover is... hard.

The Ghost Of Titan

Thomas "Archangel" Cain entered the locker room and threw his helmet into the locker.

"Fuck." He said to the air.

Looking around, he noticed that he was alone for once and he collapsed onto the bench, placed his head in his hands and the tears fell from his eyes. A gods-damned patrol mission turned into a fucking ambush by the Titan colonials. They managed to kill the attackers but it was too late... and now she was dead. Tigg's fighter was fucking incinerated right before his eyes. He clenched his jaws together and swore in the silent room.

Erotic Fiction Thursdays - A Day At The Range

Two members of a covert government unit find each other on their day off… And it leads to an unexpected encounter.

A Day At The Range

Carrie jogged slowly down Range Road on the warm, August morning. This was part of her ‘long route’ when she needed to run and clear her head. Today was one of those days.
Being Labor Day weekend, the range would be empty and Range Road would, therefore, be without traffic and make her run even better. She jogged at a moderate pace, not wanting to push things too much, but not wanting to slack off either. She hated running, really, but sometimes it was the only way to get her head cleared out. She had been having a frustrating week to put it mildly and her pent up rage wasn't subsiding by sitting around the apartment so she decided to head out and see if she could sweat it out.
About a mile down range road she froze in mid stride and almost fell to the ditch. She pulled the earbud out of her ear and listened. "BOOM" came the noise again. It was clearly coming from the range and it was, by far, the loudest gun she had ever heard in her life.
"It has to be Tom." She said, shaking her head.

Suicide and Life...

I'm on my... 6th? Cup of coffee already.  Which isn't truly unusual... but today isn't the normal level of tired from general insomnia -  Last night stayed up late, talking my friend out of killing herself...

It was not fun. I did not enjoy it.

But I did it. And my friend is still alive this morning... And, for that, I am happy.

This is not the first time in 40 years I've done this... and that is a sad, sad thing.

The friend in question was not one of my former Army mates. She is someone I've known since kindergarten who has been sexually abused by a family member for most of her life and is now in an emotionally and physically abusive relationship... And nothing I can say will make her feel like the good person we all know her to be. The abusive assholes in her life have her believing THEIR bullshit.

It's times like this I wish we had a Purge Night... well, sort of. Not really... I mean, I'm not advocating violence... but I sure as shit would love to beat the ever loving shit out of her family member and dickhole of a so-called boyfriend... but, alas, that is not an option.

All I want to do is lift my friend up where she needs to be so she can take the time needed to look after her own happiness and not rely on the assholes she's known.

Why do people have to be assholes like that? Why must people degrade and humiliate others into thinking they're somehow LESS??  WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?

Look - if you're reading this and you know someone in a relationship that is toxic - talk to them. Don't wait until you see a last-ditch call for help on Facebook before reaching out. I've not been in close touch with my friend in a few years. I've moved away... but when I saw her reach out, then delete the post - I called her. And we talked.

Talk to someone if they need it. Be a friend. Take the time out of your day to make sure your friends, family and loved ones make it to tomorrow. It can get better. It will get better. But only if we all remember that we're in this together...

Now, here's a cat photo to help you through your day:

I thought about using one of those hairless cat photos - but they look like ballsacks. So... no. 

BE GOOD, PEOPLE!!!

Erotic Fiction Thursdays - Accidentally In Bed

Two friends find themselves in bed together when plans change and their paths cross unintentionally

Accidentally In Bed

Carrie glared at the text message on her phone in frustration.
“Stuck at work. Have to cancel dinner”
“Mother fucker.” She tossed the phone aside.
She was expecting a night out, complete with dinner and sex. Now she was looking at a night in... by herself. Fresh out of the shower with her hair and makeup perfect, wearing her “I’m going to be seen naked” panties she flopped onto the couch next to her phone. She was pissed off and turned on - and that was not a good combination. It had been weeks since she had seen Nick. And when they had seen each other, he’d been distant and cold.
“Looks like whiskey and Netflix tonight.” She said to the empty house. “Why is it so hard to just get laid?” She stopped talking to herself and shot up from the couch when she heard the sliding door open in her kitchen and got up from the couch to investigate. Maybe Nick was just playing with her? She stopped in her tracks when, to her complete surprise, it was Tom. Despite looking tired and worn out - she couldn't help but see his broad shoulders and admire him from the back. He was, in fact, a very desirable man… and Standing before him in nothing but her "going out" panties and a fuzzy bathrobe made her think inappropriate thoughts as she watched him rummage through his bag on her kitchen table.
"Hi." She said startling him.
"Shit!" He said. "I didn't think you were home, Carrie." He turned to acknowledge her and pulled a double-take when he saw he clothes… or lack thereof. He quickly turned away.
"I see... so this is just your standard, run of the mill, home invasion thing? You know I don't have anything good to steal."

The bliss that is being alone...

I love my wife and kids very much.

But there are times that, as a human being, I just need some time alone. And I don't mean I need to get in the car and go to the store - I mean home, in your house, with no other person.

Maybe it's just me, I don't know. But there is something internally balancing about being able to just spend some time each day at home, alone, not dealing with anyone else's shit. Before we moved, I had an hour every morning to myself when my wife went to work and the kids went to daycare. It was glorious. Some days I'd do laundry, somedays I'd do the dishes... it doesn't matter what I do during the time alone - the point was just to be able to do it without worrying about anyone else for like 60 minutes.

It was fucking glorious.

But... now I commute for two fucking hours every day and that's about the closest I get to alone time.