As I was sitting here at the computer it started to rain and a very vivid memory has come back.

When I was a kid my grandparents lived across the street. They had a huge house with a 2 car garage. Every summer they went back up north--yes they were "Snow Birds". That's what we call the seasonal residents in Florida. Anyway, back to the memory.

I had a key to their garage, don't know why, but I did. I would go across to their garage and pull a cot? over by the door, lower the door so I could see out but it would be barely open. I would lay there and watch the rain. I would only go there when it was a rainy day. I think that is totally weird.

I would stay there for hours, alone, and watch the rain. I have no memory of anything else around this but there has to be more. I must have been reading, or something. I can't imagine me just laying there and doing nothing, but I guess it is possible.

I am getting a feeling that there is something wrong with what I was doing. Like I should not be there. I don't think my mom ever came over to check on me and I would be gone for hours and hours. I know I was not a "little" kid. My sense is I was a pre- teen. Junior high age. I know I was not of high school age.

I do know that I felt relaxed, calm, unstressed. Like when I got there and laid down I would take a big deep breath and feel fantastic. I would watch the rain til it was gone. This memory is a new one sorta! I have had this come to me but with no emotion or feelings involved. Today is the first time I've felt the feelings I had associated with it.

But there is still a big gapping hole surrounding this memory. I can feel it. All the facts are not in yet. I feel like I was hiding from somethng or someone. Like it was my very secret special hiding place.

I wonder? Was I hiding from my dad? He was only home on weekends. If I was able to hide there for hours and hours, it would have to be the weekend, otherwise I would have been in school. I have no memory of ever skipping school, so it must have been weekends that I spent so much time in the garage.

There is more to this story because my mind just said to me "what else was going on in that garage?"

I am not writing any more right now as I feel myself entering a state of panic and anxiety. I want to stop it before it gets a hold of me