We have a bat in the basement. At least, I think we do. I’m the only one who has seen it. I’m fairly certain that it’s not a hallucination. You see, we’ve had bats in the house before. Even birds and bees (yes really). Confirmed and seen by other members of my family and friends, so my certainty is reality is rooted in other witness accounts.
I made a connection the other day with this bat and my recent barrage of depression. I’m tying to be humorous about it, and we’ll see if this works.
I’ve dealt with bats indoors several times. And each time, I can’t help but remember a certain scene from “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” where Raul Duke is crouched slightly, swatting at those “goddamn animals” with a flyswatter. This is exactly how I dealt with these bats and where the connection starts to take shape.
As mentioned in the previous Chronicle, this latest bout came out of nowhere. This is how the bats make their presence known. The latest bat swooped out of a dark chamber in my basement. It zipped right by my head. Instinctively, I hit the floor and looked for the nearest weapon; a metal ruler. I waited, crouched behind a table waiting for the infernal thing to swoop back into the room. It never did. I waddled, almost on hands and knees, back to the basement stairs, metal ruler clutched tightly in my fist. It never showed up, and I haven’t seen it since.
This is how I’ve been dealing with my depression. It swoops silently out of the darkness of my mind, scaring the living shit out of me. I crouch, waiting for it to swoop back. Normally, it isn’t seen for weeks or months, but lately, it seems to be circling slightly. Each time I stand upright and confident, it emerges from the dark once again to terrorize me.
I’m not sure why bats scare me so much. It may be the threat of rabies even at the slightest touch, or the fact that they flap around without making a noise. Once again, I come back to what I’m thinking is the source of all of this. Fear. And again, I have to ask, fear of what.
So, this is the ultimate quest on this journey. Fear is the mind-killer. I have to find this fear and destroy it. Beat it with a metal ruler. Beat it bloody and kill it dead.
One thing is for certain: I can’t stop here, this is bat country.
I made a connection the other day with this bat and my recent barrage of depression. I’m tying to be humorous about it, and we’ll see if this works.
I’ve dealt with bats indoors several times. And each time, I can’t help but remember a certain scene from “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” where Raul Duke is crouched slightly, swatting at those “goddamn animals” with a flyswatter. This is exactly how I dealt with these bats and where the connection starts to take shape.
As mentioned in the previous Chronicle, this latest bout came out of nowhere. This is how the bats make their presence known. The latest bat swooped out of a dark chamber in my basement. It zipped right by my head. Instinctively, I hit the floor and looked for the nearest weapon; a metal ruler. I waited, crouched behind a table waiting for the infernal thing to swoop back into the room. It never did. I waddled, almost on hands and knees, back to the basement stairs, metal ruler clutched tightly in my fist. It never showed up, and I haven’t seen it since.
This is how I’ve been dealing with my depression. It swoops silently out of the darkness of my mind, scaring the living shit out of me. I crouch, waiting for it to swoop back. Normally, it isn’t seen for weeks or months, but lately, it seems to be circling slightly. Each time I stand upright and confident, it emerges from the dark once again to terrorize me.
I’m not sure why bats scare me so much. It may be the threat of rabies even at the slightest touch, or the fact that they flap around without making a noise. Once again, I come back to what I’m thinking is the source of all of this. Fear. And again, I have to ask, fear of what.
So, this is the ultimate quest on this journey. Fear is the mind-killer. I have to find this fear and destroy it. Beat it with a metal ruler. Beat it bloody and kill it dead.
One thing is for certain: I can’t stop here, this is bat country.
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