Just like that!

I can’t do it.

I can’t even get up to throw the garbage away.

I don’t want to take a shower and feel better.

I don’t want to feel anything.

I don’t want to talk. Think. Dream.

I don’t want to die.

But, I just want...

What do I want?

I just want.

I want to want again.

Right?

Is that right? Is that how you get yourself out the funk? To say you want it bad enough?

I’m here lying on my well loved, brown couch, my legs falling on the floor, and I’m alone, with the shades half-drawn.

I still need sunlight. Even if it is a little.

I sigh, thinking about tonight. I don’t know how she did it, how she managed to convince me... but my mom found a way to set up a date, just for me.

Tonight. Probably by her inferring how lonely I am day in and day out in my apartment... never going out... never doing anything.

I’m wearing pajama pants that I’ve worn for the last two days. A top that is wrinkled, no bra.

I work from home, so I don’t need to worry about looking professional. I can’t even get up to make something to eat.

I’m in IT, and I don’t have much contact with people. And I basically have conditioned myself to live that way permanently.

I don’t live like a good, normal person.

I don’t care about stuff, and I don’t collect things. I just lay around with my unread books, and I just pretend to not exist for hours.

As obsessive and weird as it was, I’d listen to the same song over and over too.

Today, it was Here Comes a Thought. It gave me a semblance of control to keep listening to it, and Estelle’s voice soothed me like no other, so I replayed it again and again.

Life just feels like an endless show. You gotta show up, you gotta put on a show, and you gotta show everyone what you’re made up of.

What am I made up of?

A never ending anxiety attack going through a black tunnel that leads to no where. Not even a satisfying crash at the end to make it interesting.

Just endless nothingness.

But, anyway, I gotta get ready.

No... false alarm!

I only got up for a minute.

Living in this Covid-driven hell these last few months has been trying for me. I never liked to go out. I was always an introvert who sincerely liked being by myself. To read and just recharge.

But, this solitude is getting too much for even me.

Okay, I get up, and go to the bathroom. I skip the mirror—eww!—and decide to clean my bathroom for some reason.

I spend twenty minutes cleaning the toilet, twenty minutes cleaning the floor, another twenty on the shower, and then I scrub the toilet again for good measure.

Then, I look in the mirror.

I look forward in the mirror and try to find myself in the mirror, but I see an obsession driven weirdo who feels like they should go over the bathroom again, but instead, I strip and take a shower.

I love to count against my last times for finishing tasks.

Twenty minutes to clean something last time should now take ten minutes.

It’s almost as if I get into a manic state after long bouts of doing nothing, and I can’t stop.

But, I can’t do it, I say to myself in the shower.

I can’t see anyone tonight.

I can’t do anything tonight.

I can’t.

I feel my whole body freeze up in the shower, and start to feel an intense palpitation in my chest.

I breathe slowly, but I can’t seem to stop spinning.

Finally, ten minutes go by.

Okay, that’s ten minutes less than last time. I feel like that’s a victory, at least.

I stop the shower and dry myself off in my room.

But the time moves forward so quick that I don’t realize it’s time for my date.

She’s here! I realize, as I hear the door bell.

I’m still in my towel, so I slip on a quick bra and some underwear, and a simple pink dress.

“Hello, Audrey! I’m so happy to see you!” My mom says. I see she has two Starbucks frappes in a drink holder in one hand, and a bottle of Merlot in another.

She gives me a kiss on the cheek, and comes in.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, smiling a bit.

“I brought our favorite movie. The Birdcage. Also, lots of snacks! And of course, I’m paying for the sushi tonight!” She starts saying, her high heels clicking in the kitchen. She opens the Merlot, the loud pop of the cork getting my attention as I close my front door.

“I’m going to let this Merlot air out while we sip our frappes, dear, okay?” She says with a flamboyant flip of her bouncy brown hair. She reminded me of Lucille Bluth without all the smirking judgment. “You got the caramel. I got vanilla. Don’t mix straws! The germs will cross over!”

There it was. That spark!

Yes, this new installment my mom created just for me: The cheer up Audrey first date, featuring good old Mom. Like a cheesy sitcom. No drama, no worries, just self care, sushi, movies, red wine, and love.

It did cheer me up, and just like that, I was goofy old Audrey with my mom, and we laughed all night, watching Robin Williams and Nathan Lane have the most hilarious back and forth ever.

One day, I’ll have that, too. But maybe not as wacky!

But for now, and always in my heart, my first true date started with my mom, showing me how to laugh again, and care about myself—and to branch that love out to others.

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Dedicated to the late and great Jessica Walter—my son and I loved her on Arrested Development! She was a very talented and beautiful woman, who deserved far more accolades and acknowledgement than even what she received in life. Also, dedicated to my mom, who helped me out in my darkest times. We also love The Birdcage!