Diagnosed with depression, Lexi Archer prefers to continue outpatient treatment. But someone else has other plans.
BlindSided tells the story of Lexi Archer, an eighteen-year-old woman who wakes up in a hospital bed, handcuffed to the rail, and realizes she doesn’t remember what happened the night before.
After being released from the hospital, Lexi’s transferred to the Milwaukee County Jail, where she’s informed about her pending charges for first-degree murder.
Intent on proving she’s innocent, Lexi places a phone call to her stepsister asking for her help. As Lexi gets closer to the truth, she unravels ugly secrets about her dead mother that will change her life forever.
No one has suffered through the life I’m living. Right?
Am I the only one out there who feels like she’s being strangled? I’ve been told that they’re severe panic attacks. But in some instances, it feels like it’s more than that. I’m not sure. Maybe no one knows what I’m feeling first-hand. The worst is when my heart races, pounding against my chest. The continued rapid heartbeat, and there’s nothing I can do to slow it down.
Suddenly, I feel like I can’t breathe. Then, when I try to talk during this moment, my words become stilted as I gasp for air. Heat consumes me. Panic takes over as sweat collects under my arms, soaking my shirt. Who can raise their hand and say that they’ve been forced to change a shirt more than once a day in order to look presentable?
Only me?
If there are others, I’ll be glad to know that I’m not alone. I’m not happy that others are suffering. Just that there may be other people my age who understand. Others won’t ridicule me for being different.
I can’t tell you how many times people have told me to stop stressing. “Or, if you truly have faith, you’ll be fine. Well, both are annoying to hear. Even back then, during biblical times, you can’t tell me that others didn’t suffer the same afflictions that I have. Otherwise, the passages in the bible about anxiety, money worries, and guilt wouldn’t be included.”
“Who’s to say that what I’ve endured won’t last me for years to come? It wasn’t long ago that my school counselor told me to find a way to learn to trust. To believe so that I can live a more normal life. No amount of lectures will move me to suddenly live or make an adjustment to turn my life around as if my past can be erased. Flashbacks are something I deal with every day.
Am I wrong for thinking this way? Will my thoughts place me in the category of being a narcissist? I’ve been told I’m more like my dead mother than I want to admit. Something I was reminded of by my maternal aunt last week.
“My sister,” said Aunt Tammy, closing the hood on her dream car. The Excalibur. It was a cherry red nineteen-eighty-one roadster. “She was always the unstable one. Mean spirited. She knew bible verses better than me. The difference was she never applied them to her way of living. That’s what made her dangerous. Envy, greed, and anger corrupted Shanta’s way of thinking. She couldn’t let go of what happened to us when we were kids.”
When Marguerite Ashton was in her twenties, she took up acting but realized she preferred to work behind the camera, writing crime fiction. A few years later, she married an IT Geek and settled down with her role as wife, mom, and writer!
Her blog, Criminal Lines: Settled Writer Past 40 is her outlet while building dollhouses and plotting out her next book.
Marguerite lives in Wisconsin and enjoys RVing.
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