Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Just a Bit of Door Therapy

I haven't rambled for quite some time and so I'm feeling a rambling coming on! Reminds me of Crocodile Dundee feeling a walkabout coming on. I guess my rambling is just me going on a walkabout in my brain. Scary place to be, even for me, who owns it.

I'm finishing day 2 of a three day vacation. LOML is at IFA University. Since my work doesn't send me anywhere and Betty moved to Utah, this is the only way I get my vacations.

This time I even went so far as to spice up my little vacation by taking today off as a mental health day hoping to get a little something checked off my list that stretches from now to Christmas. Notice I didn't say Christmas of which year.

I still have to perform my rituals when I'm on one of these LOML-induced vacations. You know, blinds all shut, windows locked, doors at least double locked {if not triple locked} and chairs under all the doorknobs. While performing the rituals on the first night, I started thinking about all I wished I could realistically lock out of not only my home, but my life. Realistically, the locks will have to do. Spiritually and emotionally, I don't think the world makes locks or security systems that the adversary can't penetrate. I'm grateful I have the Gospel and it's principles that help me lock out all that other stuff that brings me down from the spirit and the heart. Need to learn that Gospel Security System better so I am as confident that those doors are locked up as I am the ones I'm sliding chairs up against.

I question my decisions, too, as far as what I'm locking out and what I'm locking in. The only difference is which side of the door I'm on. That's a multi-faceted concept, huh? Because of that, though, I go through the house, turning on all the lights, looking in all the closets and underneath all the beds before locking the fort up for the night. For now, I'm in. And I want everything else out.

Inside my house, I hate being behind shut doors. More specifically, I hate coming out after having been behind shut doors. Seriously, what may have happened "out there" while I've been "in here"?Or what {or who} is going to be waiting on the other side? Maybe I've been so absorbed in my little world on one side of the door that I haven't heard chaos ripping apart my life on the other side. So now I'm a little anxious because I know that if, when I open the door of this room to go out, and someone is on the other side, it won't be LOML trying to scare me or just being there doing his own thing. Every door I open for the rest of the night is done ever so quietly, ever so slowly as my imagination revs its high-powered engines. Crazy, I know, but it happens quite often in this brain of mine and then it's difficult to shut down {maybe my brain needs a better door to shut this type of stuff out}!

Between all the cupboard doors and the storage room door, trying to find something to snack on, I lost count of how many doors had slammed. The light in the fridge came open more times than the night light. Producing no satisfaction. By the time I was done in the storage room, however, I'd discarded at least three boxes of stale crackers, some old oatmeal and a couple of gritty granola bars. There's some stuff that still remains questionable so eat from the storage room at your own risk. The philosophy always is, if you're hungry enough...right?

I'm not sure if this was therapeutic or not. There was some motivation behind it and it's obvious I have my own personal relationship with doors. Not sure if that's very therapeutic, either! Still, the first outside door I unlock in the morning is the one I always use so if you know me well enough to know which door that is, enter at your own risk!

1 comment:

  1. I didn't know you were afraid of the dark, of being home alone, of being behind closed doors. You'll get over it--but me first. Love your blog. P.S. Why didn't you go with LOYL?