Randi henley
Bio
My name is Randi. I started writing in the 2nd grade. I love expressing myself through words. I have in recent years started to share my work, and want to do more of just that.
Stories (3/0)
The Breakthrough
Ptsd is complicated, and navigating life alone can feel heavy. Options are slim. The military offers medication and therapy. But when you can't speak about it, how can you address it? And let's face it, medication, although helpful, can seem like avoidance. What about a service dog? Basically a dog trained to walk with you through life. Help you with the symptoms and harsh realities of life living with PTSD or MST ( post traumatic stress disorder or military sexual trauma).
By Randi henley 3 years ago in Petlife
Aunt Flow
Here we go again, and it started at work. Now I'm a mess and hot, my stomach hurts and all I can think of is chocolate. Four hours left to go and I am not going to make it. Who invented cramps? I need to sit down and have a conversation with Ms. Cramp maker. At what point in my creation did you think ‘ hey lets rip out the inside lining of her organ and make it as painful as possible while causing excessive bleeding, hot flashes and bloating.’ Oh well back to my desk I go, with my paper towel sanitary napkin because my pads are in my purse. Which coincidentally is at my desk next to my wet wipes. Well now that I have taken care of that issue, Back to work. This computer is moving so slow, or maybe I'm just moving fast. I want some chocolate, I wonder if the vending machine has a candy bar. I'm going to go check, hope no one is paying attention to the fact that I have not done a damn thing since I went to the bathroom. I'm actually kinda tired, I want to go to sleep. My legs feel like jello, why am I so heavy with all this stomach. Wow and now I'm gassy, great hopefully I can hold it until I get near the vending machine. There is no one over there and this might not be a quiet one. Oh no I might not make it! OK let me walk a little faster. Finally! and not one candy bar, damnit and that was not a quiet fart. Someone had to have heard that somewhere in this office. I'm just gonna walk real fast and not make eye contact with anyone one. Back at my desk, breathing heavily, that little walk took everything out of me. After all that still no chocolate and I would kill for some chocolate right now. It's almost break time, maybe the cafeteria has a cookie or some cake. I'm going to sit here this whole time watching the clock thinking about possibly getting some chocolate at lunch. I still have yet to do any work. I don't want to be here right now. I'm tired and my feet hurt plus it feels like my stomach is about to explode. That was a quiet little fart great, but omg why does it smell like that. What did I eat for dinner last night, that smells absolutely awful. I cannot do that again I may pass out and then someones gonna have to come over here to relieve me and smell that and pass out themselves. I'm gonna have the whole office running from the funk. I gotta stop being so hard on myself its not me its the gas, from this stupid period. It's like mother nature has a personal vendetta or something. What did I do to deserve this pain. Well I did steal that ladies drink out the fridge last week and she was real thirsty at lunch. But she ain't mark it or nothing how was I supposed to know. It was good anyway, one of those new fruity drinks with the actual fruit in them, so good. I did also lie to my cousin about not wanted to go with her to that party next week. In my defense I know who gonna be there and I am not interested in being around any of those people. I did reject my mom's phone call today too, see she told me god don't like ugly so yeah maybe I deserve it. Why does it have to be this bad can't I just get a light period with some baby cramps and a headache. Now that I could handle, take a few Tylenol and some water and a nap. Be up in a few hours feeling fine. Not me though i'm going to be in the bed with a heating pad, some chips, chocolate and warm tea crying like “it ain't my time lord”. Wow I have really been talking to myself for 40 minutes and now it's lunch time. I better stand up real slow and not open my legs to wide. Last thing I need is to stand up and bleed out this pad. That would be the worst, can’t recover from that. I would need all new pants and undies maybe even socks, what if it got on my shoes. That would really be embarrassing I'm going to just move real slow and pray the whole way up. OK I didn't feel anything drastic happen so maybe I'm good. Now let's go get this chocolate, cuz I want chocolate and cake or cookies maybe both. I'm not that hungry, or am I? I could eat cookies and cake right now, I might even want to. This line is always so long, it's like everyone in the building is hungry for lunch. Don't any of you eat at home? I just want some chocolate. Oh my goodness I see it, they have chocolate cake they even have double fudge chocolate cookies. Now to wait in this line to get my chocolate, I wonder if they have any milk, I can't eat chocolate without milk. I know this women did not just buy the last cookie? Yes she did, OK no big deal there is still cake, I can still get cake. There's only two pieces left, why am I the fifth person in this line. I wonder if they will let me skip if I explain the situation in grave detail. Like I'm bleeding to death and my insides are falling out I just need chocolate to save my life! No too dramatic I have to be more tactful, present it like a business proposition. Like hey can I take your spot in line, I'll pay for your meal? No? Maybe? That is not gonna work, these people all look real hungry to, I think the guy in front of me just bit his pencil, that is gross. Yes I'm the next person in line, chocolate cake here I come. This guy is sure taking a long time to place his order. Like what standing here for an hour didn't give you enough time to decide what you wanted. Finally, yes, can I get a piece of chocolate cake and a glass of milk? " I'm sorry someone just bought the last piece" 'You have got to be kidding me, I just stood here all this time for a piece of cake and you sold every last piece? why would you do this to me can't you see I'm in need I'm having a female crisis over here and the world is closing in on me and I just needed some chocolate". " I'm so sorry ma'am" Wait I said that out loud Oh no. " I'm sorry I don't know what came over me, excuse me please ". Wow I have really done it now, I'm so getting fired. Yelling at the cafeteria staff in a violent menstrual cramp rage. I should take some time off and get my life together. This cannot be real. " Excuse me miss", " yes" ," I couldn't help but overhear what just happened over there" ,"Oh I am so sorry you had to hear that, I have no idea what came over me", " It’s ok I'm actually use to it my wife is on her period this week as well, Here I would like you to have this. I am on a diet anyway and standing in that line hungry allowed for some impulse purchasing", " Are you sure, I couldn't, it's yours", " No please I insist", " Thank you so much" What a nice man he really just gave me his cake, now I want to cry but I won't. I'm going to eat my cake first and then maybe I'll cry. I'm so happy finally chocolate, mmm. Wait.... Oh no, no no no no no, this isn't chocolate, this is coffee. Now I will cry, I quit and I'm going home good bye.
By Randi henley 3 years ago in Fiction
Todays my birthday
Today seems heavy to me, well heavier than I'm accustomed to. I woke up my chest aching, tears flowing from my eyes and an empty feeling inside. Birthdays are normally hard for me but this one hits harder than most. My dad called me as he always has since I left home. He sang my own personal happy birthday song that he made up. "Happy birthday my little angel, sure is nice that I am able to witness here another year of you growing my beautiful dear" on my voicemail. In the most beautiful soft voice that cracks slightly now from age. He asked me to call but he knows I won't. I don't want to talk about it today, not today. I was raised by my dad, he was an older dad, being 40 when I was born. He met my mom at his favorite restaurant. She was a waitress and a lot younger than he. He always tells me how beautiful she was. Soft red curls that perfectly matched her freckled face. She was short and petite but had large hands. He said the first time she took his order he stared without speaking and that made her smile and it opened what became their first conversation. My dad went back to that restaurant every day after that first meeting, that's why it's his favorite. He always stares and she always laughs. Their first date was on a Sunday, they went for ice cream. My dad got mint chocolate chip, his favorite and my mom had rocky road. They went out every Sunday, it was my mom's only day off. My dad fell in love quickly, but my mom was always distant, he says. I was born 2 years after the day they met. With the same red curls and the same perfectly matched freckles. My dad says it was the happiest day of his life. Two months later my mom turned 25 years old, that was the day she left us. My dad says he woke up and she was just gone. No note, no calls just gone. He spoke of her often, all of her pictures still hung on the walls. I looked just like her, same hair and face but I was heavier in weight. He set a place for her at the table that remained empty. He said a prayer for her at night when he tucked me in. And although he never said it I know the ring he gave me was hers. It was on my 14th birthday when I received a package in the mail that I knew she was alive. A box, square wrapped in brown paper like the bags from the grocery store. It was neat and taped well, addressed to me from " MOM". My dad placed it on the kitchen table one day after school. He had a smile on his gently wrinkled face and was waiting for me to react. I smiled at him, asked about work and went to my room. Every year since he has placed the same box in the same spot on the same table on my birthday. And every year since I've left home he has called and asked if I wanted him to mail the box to me. The first year or two I laughed it off and changed the subject. I would ask him about the weather back home or how the dog was doing. He would immediately answer my question and tell me he loves me. I no longer have the strength to pick up the phone for my birthday. Now I just wait to call the day after, I make up an excuse about being with friends from school or being in a class that ran late. He has never pressed the issue and due to his gentle nature I'm sure he never will. Today however is especially hard, today I turn the same age she was when she left. I know he means well and I know he misses her. He has not loved since, never a date or even a woman at the house. He keeps her picture by the bed and still has her toothbrush in his bathroom. Her perfume still sits in her spot on the dresser and what's left of her belongings still rest in the closet where they were hung. I don't know how to love someone I have never met. I don't feel what my dad feels and I'm not sad the way he is. I had an amazing childhood with a great dad. He was always there for me. At every dance recital and soccer game. When I scraped my knee falling off my bike. He even chased my first boyfriend home when he broke my heart. I wonder sometimes why she left,and maybe if I opened the box it would tell me. Maybe she was too young and couldn't handle being a mom. Maybe she just didn't love my dad. This day is filled with confusion and questions I don't want answered. I don't want to know why she left or what she has to say. If it was that important she would have been here to say it, right? I wish he would throw the box away, that would end the what ifs and take away the temptation. For him I think it's that last bit of hope that somewhere in this world she's thinking of us. I didn't grow up missing her and I don't want to start now. So there it sits, in the same spot right where he left it. As though touching it would burn me as though what it holds would plague my existence. The box sent to me, the box I have never touched, the unopened relationship with my mother.
By Randi henley 3 years ago in Fiction
