Every time we drive over a railroad track, we lift our feet. I’ve even taught the kids to do this and they accommodate me with no questions asked. Why do we do this?
I have no idea. I know every single solitary time we do though. Much anxiety comes from forgetting. I tell myself to look up the mores later so we can understand the old wives tale. Then I promptly forget.
As luck would have it, I’m reading my April free book of the month “Cold Waters” by Debbie Herbert. A girl is picked up from the bus station and as she is driven through her hometown, they drive over the tracks and up go the feet. The hands touch the roof as well. The girl who’s name is still unknown says she knew the driver would too. Why? The book says:
You couldn’t be too careful. I mean, nobody wanted to die young when you could have prevented it by merely lifting your feet.
Who knew? Now we all do.
Do you have any superstitions? If so, what’s the origin?
I have ranted about the FB ban of my blog. Either the bots got me, someone ratted me out, or a combination of the two. I will never know but I have been attempting to crack the code and get back in. I did get a notification that the FB committee reconsidered one of my posts and that my post would be posted. Despite the notification, that did not happen. My new stuff is still being rejected.
Any hoo, I set up another account on FB using my middle name and an alternate associated email. I keep getting texts for the new middle name account – all the you may know so and so. Things of that nature. Just now my text says and I quote “Jill is FB, if you know her send her a friend request”. Uh ya, I guess I know me but will I send myself a friend request? Naw. I surrender. At least Twitter and Instagram accept me.
Folks it has been one of those days, weeks, months, or years <insert Friends theme song so they know you’re okay>. Some may know the signs. Good days, bad days, good days, bad days cycling around the hamster wheel of life. I know what to do to break the cycle but my pig headed stubbornness has got me back here. To this place I’d rather not be.
Two people in the last two days told me “Nobody Cares” in response to something I care irrationally but deeply about. Okay then. I admit it. I certainly COULD care less. I certainly SHOULD care less. I certainly want to eat a whole sleeve of effing Oreos.
Then I saw where a FB friend posted about the signs of Perfectly Hidden Depression (PHD). I thought hey, I resemble that remark. I looked further and found this article. In the article is a questionnaire that I took. I scored more than 12 y’all. Boo for me 😦
However I would say that my D is not PH. My D has reared its’ ugly head once or twice upon a time. My current status is power through. In attempts to be treated, I have admitted a few things to a few people and doing so has always backfired on me.
There is such stigma to needing help. I would not wish mental illness on my worst enemy but I do wish everyone could have a preview into that dark world to help garner understanding. “Snap out of it” “Get over it” Well duh? Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? I DID!!! I KNOW!!! But knowing and doing are two different things.
I will close with this. Don’t cry for me Argentina. I am one of the lucky ones. Counting those blessings (classic sign) through gritted teeth. I have a support system (I try very hard not to use said system) but I have one. They are worth more than gold. If you need someone to listen, I am here. We are not alone.
WP is sensitive to timing. For me to get credit for streak posting, I have to be conscious of the time. If less than 24 hours between posts, considered a same day post or no count. It is why E didn’t count. Who Knew?