Black and White

I’m feeling a little raw today. I keep going through the motions of putting dishes away and turning the steering wheel, but I could very well be sitting in an alien’s medical lab and not know the difference. It’s not like today is any different. It’s just I had a bad dream.

It was about a fractured family, social anxiety and a repetition of action that would have exhausted the pillowcase I was sleeping on. I woke up feeling like a toxin had been released in my body and found symbiosis with my nervous system.

Yesterday I went to church. For the first time in over a decade, I went back to that little building that I had gone to every Sunday since I was a little girl. It’s changed a lot since I’ve been there. Upgraded. There’s proper wheelchair access now. Covid19 has altered a few things but the atmosphere was ultimately the same.

I walked towards the door with the same anxiety I had when I was a child- worried about the way I look and anxious about not knowing what religion means to me.

Thank you, Maddie. She was sitting in the foyer and I ended up having a nervously beautiful conversation with her while my sister entertained my little girl in the garden. I’m going to be cruel and say that she looked just as physically uncomfortable as I felt, and it made me feel more at ease with my own insecurities. There was a guy sitting opposite us with his eyes closed. I wasn’t intimidated by him at all, so he faded into the background.

Maddie reminded me of why people go to church. She personified that feminine safety net that allows other people to feel nurtured by her presence, by her experience, by her own assertion to live a life that humbly asks to focus on other people’s needs.

I’m too selfish. I have never known the boundaries of what I should give to someone else and what that person should be able to take. I’ve constantly messed up many a casual encounter by my seriousness. And then I notice the guy that I had a crush on when I was an adolescent.

I’m married. I’m actually in love with this annoying man who I see every day and who makes me laugh out loud. I’m not looking at this other guy for any other reason than addressing the anxiety of why he shakes me to the core.

And he does. I just stare at him and when he asks me a question I fumble like a fool. He has changed so much. I know through Facebook that he is married to a gorgeous girl and has two beautiful little boys.

Back in the day, he was this Puck of a guy that I associated with all the awe of an Obi- Wan Kenobi. At least, that’s what I endowed him with. No pressure.

The weird thing is he looked like a Jedi when I saw him. He had this worn look of someone who has been through hell but knows something that is yet to be known. He just looked fortified no matter what the day faced. All I could do was just stare at his head like a zombie. I was completely unprepared to feel so emotionally messy, especially when the background wall included a picture of Jesus Christ.

I look at my own child running up and down the hall. I watch her irregular adjustments to the objects around her. I watch her determine whether or not she is comfortable with what she sees and touches. She throws her chubby hands over her head and peals into a fit of laughter. It will be screaming 10 minutes later.

I’m feeling a little raw today. I don’t know why I thought mental breakdowns had a neatness to them, like the powers-that-be would place a little yellow brick road outside your farmhouse and take you a certain direction when the storm clouds recede. The world is sometimes black and white for a while. I guess.

The postman has arrived. I’ve ordered a new black sketchbook for my sister’s birthday. She’s an artist. I’m really messy at opening packaging. I pull, tear and shred and then finally give up and use scissors. A letter in the packaging falls out. It says congratulations. Have I won something?