Head Case...

Head Case…
For the life of me, I cannot sit still. Yesterday, as far as my food situation goes, was one of the worst days since Rob died. Although I’m proud to say I didn’t go on a binge, I ate too many sugar filled items and felt gross all day. Today, getting back on track after that has been an immense challenge as it usually is after I get crazy with the sugar.
I try to write in my journal this morning but can’t seem to focus. I’m getting behind with that. I take a walk then go to the gym for the first time in nearly eight weeks. Ouch. I should probably start going back a little more often.
After getting ready for work, I head to San Francisco coffee to read for a little while. When I read, although I’m comprehending the words, my mind somehow processes other things. I don’t quite understand it. It’s like being asleep and having a dream to process whatever happened that day, except I’m wide awake. I do this when I run as well but I’m able to actually daydream more and that sparks new ideas and things I may need to explore.
Today’s processing involves why I’m going crazy and what I’m going to do about it. I’ve had losses in my life before. People have broken up with me, and vice versa. Friendships have subsided, jobs have come and gone, but nothing is as profound as death.
I think about the last time someone I felt was quite significant left me, and how I ended up getting through it. It was about three years ago. I met Peter through Kat. He moved to Atlanta in July but hadn’t found a job yet in the city so he stayed in his apartment in Atlanta on the weekends and worked in Birmingham, living with his parents during the week.
That first night he moved he met me and Kat downtown for an outdoor concert. As our favorite band Stereophonics played my favorite song “Dakota”, rain began to pour down on us. I remember walking away from the crowd with him to wait for Kat who had left us to get closer to the stage. We were standing under an awning, completely drenched, when his thumbs met the skin under my eyes, wiping away the wet mascara that had made it’s way off my lashes.
Kat caught up with us and we all went back to our places to get changed into drier clothes. Peter and I were going to meet at a bar while Kat decided to stay in. I remember still being soaked, stumbling around my room with mom, on the phone telling her about Peter and our plans, trying to find something “cute” to wear while she reminded me to be careful and call her the next day.
Peter and I lost our minds. We met up an hour later at the N. Highland Pub and talked until the bar shut down. We got into a wrestling match outside near Freedom Park and then laid out on the concrete talking, while watching the sky lighten up. It was six in the morning when he decided we should sleep. He invited me back to his house in Candler Park where we passed out but only for a few hours. We talked and talked all morning, eventually ate lunch, talked some more, walked around, and then I went home for a shower only to return shortly after for dinner and a movie.
Each weekend was like that. Hours spent connected at the hip wherever we went, never sleeping because there was so much to be said and a feeling that everything was ok when I was with him. He called every day telling me how crazy he was about me and vice versa. He was so excited to have his place in Candler Park, learn about all the different neighborhoods and to spend time together. He told me one afternoon that he was falling in love with me.
Then without warning everything stopped. The phone calls, the trips to Atlanta, everything. Stopped. After several attempts at calling him with no return call, I found out through the grapevine that he moved back to Alabama, but no one knew why. He didn’t return Kat’s or Gordon’s calls either. Completely dropped off the face of the Earth.
I remember being so upset after that. Lots of tears and anger. Chances are good I’ll never see Peter again and I’m ok with that. I will never see Rob again and that’s not ok. Like Peter, my memories of Rob are finite. What’s going to happen to me when I’m done putting all my energy into writing about him? It’ll end at some point and I’m scared of that.
“I’m terrified you’re going to leave me.” I said to Rob while perched on the edge of a couch in a friend’s living room in Chicago. It’s the day of my second interview at Art and Science salon and I’m a nervous wreck.
“I’m not going to leave you, I’m just not optimistic about the long distance thing. We’ll talk about it more when you come back. I’m perfectly willing to go down the yellow brick road with you. Let’s just cross that bridge when we get there. Ok?”
Crossing bridges when I get to them is something I’ve never been able to do. I try to mentally cross them before reaching them to be able to somewhat anticipate what’s on the other side. In doing so I miss the journey to the bridge.
My brain feeds me memories like being spoon-fed ice cream. Of course, like ice cream, I devour them, wanting more, licking the bowl until there’s nothing left. I think about being a child and who I was then. Thoughts of middle and high school come next, then being employed, moving through relationships, traveling, accomplishments, the people I’ve met along the way that have helped shape who I am now. These thoughts and memories always end with Rob and how he opened me up and pulled out what I had been looking for all this time… me.
I have to go to work. I close my book and walk to my car. Once in and driving I change the radio stations looking for something, anything besides constant talking. Rob’s favorite song, “Addicted” by Saving Abel is playing on 96.1. I’ve never heard it on the radio. The music brings me back to the day after he died and I dissolve into tears yet again.
I don’t understand what all these feelings are. I don’t understand why I can’t stop moving, why I dream of taking long walks, and sleeping even longer. I can’t explain what it’s like to want to be completely alone and surrounded by people every minute of every day. I don’t know why some days like today, I long to touch my clients, to feel human skin and give them all my love because I don’t know where to direct it anymore. Then there are other days where the last thing I want is to deal with people. What is this and how do I fix it?