Chasing butterflies at night

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I was a very internal kid regarding emotions. My love of the hunt, survival, and outdoors encompassed my childhood. Appalachia is a special place full of magic. Nature is my therapy.

Sometimes it’s easy for me to forget the past but brief moments flash back. Those moments flood back, I’m catching lighting bugs as a child in a mason jar. Catching June bugs in summer. The humidity is in the air and a storm is brewing. Storms in the mountains shake the earth. Suddenly a lighting bolt strikes, I cried.  It knew something bad had happened and my salvation hurt. My oak tree was struck by lighting in my front yard and I felt it’s pain. I think I can remember feeling it dying that night. It lived, but suffered, struggled, and eventually it was cut down. The strike was the death sentence, but the final euthanizing came by chainsaw. I watched it come down with tears. It was the end of something I’d known my whole life. Like watching an animal euthanized.

Solitude today is torture and pleasure, my mind never stops. Solitude is necessary for my survival. A storm brings me peace and closure because of that single memory. I crave summer storms, because of the energy I feel for all living thing.  I wanted 10 kids, I’m sure my oak wanted a forest. I’d like to think that my oak has bloomed and reborn many times.

I still have a leaf from the tree, but wish I had a kept a seed, an acorn.

The oak and I have both ended our lineage with different stories. I just wasn’t struck by lighting, but touch by fire and fate.

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About Musings of a mad woman

“Mental labels don’t define who I am, time and aging only gets me closer to those I love, will love, and have loved” ~ S.L. Cato I’ve battle Bipolar disorder for at least 15+ years, toss in a couple more labels I’ve collected such as generalized anxiety disorder PTSD. This battle is pretty amazing and out of this world and at times a dark rollercoaster ride. The medication, the manic episodes, and mania can be pretty humorous. The hypersexuality, drugs, anxiety, depression, ghosts, and parenting. I’ve certainly felt the sting of the “crazy” stigma, but I’m here today. Bipolar is my superpower. I hope by sharing my musings it helps others understand the labels situation whispered behind closed doors. Please feel free to share my stories, rantings and musings. Read more about me in my post "Who is the Mad Woman"

13 responses »

  1. Your writing is amazing… I can relate to your tree… and it’s struggle to live…while dying a little more every day and crying sawdust tears… I had a favorite tree, too… at the house I grew up in… Just visited there last fall… the tree was gone… Looking forward to reading more of your writings!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thanks for stopping by my blog and liking my post on ways to be happy. I hope you find them useful. Thanks also for signing up to follow. I am looking forward to visiting around your little corner of the blogosphere. I was a big fan of Marilyn.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This was good to read. It reminded me of the trees that grew in the garden of the house I lived in while growing up. We had three fruit trees; pear, plum, and cooking apple. Any time I cook apples today, I’m remember the huge amounts of stewed apple in the freezer over the winter when I was young. On 15th October 1987 the UK had a hurricane (which was a big deal on our little islands) and we woke to find the tree uprooted. No more apple harvests or climbing that tree. The sense of loss is there.

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  4. My parents moved us from house to house, but I remember a place where two blocks away on the edge of a deep ravine, there was a tree like the one in the picture. I loved that tree. I would take a book and sit on a limb, feel the wind blowing, and watch seeds that looked like white fairies waft in the wind. I felt so safe there all alone.

    One time we lived in a house in a desert sort of place. There was one lone tree across the parking lot. My sister, brother and I made that our clubhouse. We played poker there because we weren’t allowed to play poker. Lol We didn’t even know the rules, but we copied the TV show, Maverick. We tacked pictures of our favorite movie stars on the trunk of that tree. It was a very small one, probably only five years old – but we were drawn to it.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I remember, when we were younger, Simon bawling because a small tree in our back yard had died… It had been too close to the road, and was getting too much water. He was depressed for weeks.
    It is sad, how you didn’t get a seed. But, you still have a part of the tree. In that leaf, in you too. The seed is in your memory.

    Liked by 2 people

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