@%&$!!!

It was Friday when I started feeling a little more crazy than usual. The phone had beeped one too many times and I was still trying to get my head on straight after Wednesday night’s debauchery. I am still angry at myself for that evening. It’s the one thing that’s harder to shake than the guilt following a binge on food. I know it’s already done and over but the awful feeling is lingering.
On Saturday, the gates of hell opened. If I had known I was going to argue with a crazy, have a girl cry in my chair after electing to chop her hair off, and walk on egg shells around another client and her damn schedule I would have left after my first one. The nightmare didn’t stop there. It continued with a dead car battery, a nail in my tire, and a possessed car alarm. When I returned home from that, there were again, one too many requests sitting in my little cellular device that I turned that shit off and threw it on the couch.
In the shower I tried to calm down. I tried to remind myself that everything is ok. Everything will be taken care of, just not in the time frame I originally wanted. I have everything I need, right now. I had run into a friend at a coffee shop this morning. He sat with me when it was the last thing I wanted. He asked me how I was and I told him I was crazy. He asked why and I explained I was stressed about my car and not feeling like work today. He went on to say things like, “at least you have your friend’s car to borrow… at least you get to go to work…”
Blah. Blah. Blah.
THIS is why I didn’t want to talk. I KNOW that I am damn lucky to have the amazing friends that have blessed my life, a wonderful family, and a fabulous job. I feel horrible to even be complaining because I know I’ve got it good but it’s not NORMAL to be all happy happy joy joy all the fucking time so let me have my pissy, angry mood and leave me the fuck alone.
Of course I say none of this but sit and smile with my teeth clenched so hard they might break, until I’m alone again.
I’m noticing that people don’t know how to deal with an angry person just like they don’t know how to deal with a grieving one. I’m both so I guess that makes it extra complicated. I don’t need my problems solved for me, just an hear on occasion and not uninvited. I realize I sound like a complete asshole right now and I apologize but I don’t know how to even deal with myself and it’s very upsetting.
I get out of the shower and put Rob’s shirt on again for the millionth time. Even on the rare occasion I’m not wearing it, it’s always next to me in my bed. I turn off the lights and take off my glasses, placing them on the dresser next to me. I can’t see anything but I’m staring at the ceiling like I did so many nights when we were on the phone. I think about what Rob would say if he were still here after I got done losing my mind about my day. I imagine him reminding me that I worry too much and everything will be ok. I can almost hear his voice and it makes me cry until I can’t breathe. Who ripped off the band aid I so carefully placed on top of my open grieving wound?
Crying at night is the worst I’ve decided. He’s not there next to me. Nothing is. It’s too late to pick up the phone and even if I did, who would I call? There is nothing to say. No one can fix this. No one can bring him back. I’m stuck here drowning in my own fluid desperate to touch the body I’ll never touch again and it’s agonizing.
Sleep eventually happens and I eventually wake up to get ready for work yet again. It’s a short day. My phone is still off. My sweet therapist’s words are still floating in my head. “Melissa, if you don’t respect your time, no one else will.” The only thing I have to do this afternoon is meet my sponsor and I’m keeping it that way. Everything else can wait.
We’re in Little Five Points when she asks how everything has been. I give the short version, without looking her in the face and the abruptly stop talking when my story is over.
“You have a plan for your car right?” she asks.
I nod.
“Ok, so that’s good! Are you eating over it?”
“Nope.”
“Good!”
I nod and smile.
She tells me about her life and what’s been going on then tells me to pull out some paper and a pen. I do so, and look at her.
“Ok, we need to change our emails. I need you to…” she goes on.
I write down the instructions.
“I also need you to re-read Steps 11 and 12 and then…” she trails off and looks at me.
“Are you ok?”
I shake my head.
“Aw buddy! I knew something was up. You’re not on your game. What is it?”
“If I knew, I’d tell you. I just need to check out for a little bit.”
“I understand.”
We wrap our meeting up and I go home. “I should probably do these damn dishes”, I think to myself upon entering the kitchen, but I go to my room to change into my running clothes instead. It rained all morning and now looks clear.
I pound the pavement down N. Highland and through Freedom Park. Like a five year old I run through puddles, getting my shoes gross but I don’t care. The air is humid and I feel my straightened hair become curly. It feels unbelievable to do nothing but run. To feel like I don’t have to focus on anything but inhaling and exhaling.
At home, after getting cleaned up I watch a movie, randomly crying for whatever reason at the oddest times. When it ends I stay up way too late constructing a new necklace.
Monday morning arrives and I get my car taken care of. A huge weight is lifted off my chest. I run a few errands and finally make my way to Decatur to a cute little coffee shop I went to a lot shortly after Rob died. I don’t know anyone (yet) and can write alone in a little corner next to a window. So that’s where I’ll be until I’m ready to join society again…