WHAT STORY OUR HOUSE TELLS

I mentioned our neighbor, Paul, had died last week.  Paul however was Tom.  His neighbor who lives across the street, whom informed our neighbor, my husband and I that “Paul” had died was mistaken.  Today my neighbor, who lives across the street from us, came over and gave us more details about Tom.  He apparently died on Thursday while reaching for the phone – we presume to dial 911.  He died of a heart attack.  His dog, still nameless, was dehydrated having been alone until Saturday morning.  Dog is fine and living with one of Tom’s sister.  Tom was a little over weight, reflectively my husband and my neighbor feel they could lose a little weight.  I contributed Tom’s death as the best way to go, dying at home instead of dying in a hospital hooked up to tubes.  My husband said later he would like for us to die during sex.  I don’t know how we would fit in the coroners’ bag however it would be an interesting story during the eulogy.

We talked about the story our house tells about us and when we die, what people would think about us.  We questioned why we would care what people would think of us after we died, but couldn’t think of a logical answer.  Our divorced neighbor is our age, we have experienced many deaths and have I’m sure thought this over yet I pose the questions perhaps people don’t verbalize?  It goes without saying, the dirty underwear is the one fear after death experience most people have mentioned, contrary to popular belief that of an updated will.  Men are notorious for keeping their briefs until they are absolutely thread worn.  This discussion comes up during girl talk often while doing laundry while chatting on the phone.  I have bought my husband so many new pairs of briefs and I still find his old, old pairs in the laundry hamper.  He complains about the new ones like a child complains about new shoes being too tight or restrictive, yet it was the same complaint with the same briefs he is so unwilling to let go of now.  If this is his only complaint, and if he dies before me, I can accept this one flaw.

I still have to dispose of my last journal and file from the mental health office that gave me so many problems.  Everything else about my personal life I have put into order.  Organized clutter is acceptable to me and represents who I am at any given time.  When I’m in different moods, you’ll find my house telling different stories.  I don’t gravitate to any one music venue, however if pressed I lean towards rock and always a little louder to pick up the acoustics I dearly love.  My art preference would confuse those who do not know me.  The books I have would tell you that I study PSI and know someone or am D.I.D that I like mystery novels, and am hanging onto the past with a collection of children’s books from the age of early childhood to perhaps 12 years.  A lot of the children’s books are classics and the few twisted ones are by the author Chris Van Allsburg.  He wrote the book “Jumanji” “The Polar Express” among others that are for children, some with a darker side which I like.  I have shells and /or candles in most of the rooms which expresses freedom in my odd little mind.

My home office I share with my husband reveals the most accurate story of my personality on a good and normal day.  On one closet door you’ll find family and friends photos with pictures of birds from magazines cut and taped on and around the photos.  We have a clock with cats that meow every hour, especially when we are on a business call.  I have a 22×30 inch framed picture of a dog riding a tricycle while balancing a cat and two mice that I have taped a large picture from the newspaper years ago of King Kong with his mouth wide open, and inside of his mouth I at one time cut out a small picture of a Chihuahua wearing a Santa suit, which sits prominently in his mouth.  I have three calendars featuring different themes – appropriate for my inability to choose the perfect one.  Next to my monitor sits two old metal die-cast Volkswagen match box cars, Enemy’s business card turned upside down ( I don’t know why it’s still there), and a dog chewy.  Under the monitor there is nothing exciting.  I have a box of 48 count Crayola crayons, papers with incomplete notes written, song titles, and a ruler.  I love numbers and always have a ruler in my office.  We of course have book shelves with Computer books,New England Travel, classic DVD’s and cook books seldom used.  I almost forgot the cat perch at the window.

The story our house will tell when we are deceased.  I hope my home reflects a happy and content home with crazy loved pets and a husband whom I haven’t driven crazy!!

 

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About crystallball7

Creative,some say "eccentric", dark sense of humor,sensitive. Never the same for too long. Running from lost time. Longing to be on the beach, at the ocean, New England. Afraid of life, extremely afraid of life.
This entry was posted in bipolar disorder, D.I.D., Death, dissociative identity disorder, mental health, Mental Illness, MPD, multiple personality disorder, personality disorder, psychology, psychotherapy, "The Enemy",psychologist and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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