CHAPTER ONE
It was 4:42am when I finally gave up. I decided to leave. I wiped the sleep out of my eyes, crusty and sore from crying. I thought about getting up, but continued to lay there. I was exhausted. My mind was over active all night. Sleep was hardly attainable. I kept waking up and looking at the clock. I had this thing about checking the time. I would check the time frequently and would make a mental note to keep tabs on what I was doing.
I had an irrational phobia of wasting time. For me productive activities could mean working, hanging out with friends, or partying. I just had to be doing something. You could say I feared my mortality, and it was coming sooner the more time I wasted. I never claimed to be sane. I was quite the opposite, understandably so.
Spending a whole night violently wrapping myself into a cocoon in my silky blankets didn't fall into the productive category. I spun around like a slow motion tornado in my blankets all night. By the time I woke up it was a tangled, twisted mass of bedding and body parts. It took me a few minutes to realize I had to free myself in order to get out of bed. I did so cursing and thrashing, I was terribly upset I had spent the night at the clutch of my own subconscious. Something had to be done.
I sat up slowly, I needed to get my bearings before standing up. I laid my hands on the bed on either side of me to brace myself for lift off. I sat there for a moment preparing for blast off. I looked down at my injured hand and flexed it. It looked as broken as i felt. It throbbed from the shattered sunglasses that impaled me yesterday. I could feel my heart. It was beating abnormally. It throbbed too.
With a yawn and a stretch I got out of bed. I fumbled around, tripping over things in the dark, walking like a zombie to get to my closet. I squinted in pain as the light flicked on. I searched for something to wear. I found nothing amidst the cluttered mess. Normally this closet was organized and neat, teaming with clothes. Normally i could find a pair of shoes. That morning was not normal. It was right then when things began to unravel.
Becoming increasingly irritated, I began to notice many things around my room were in an equal
state of dismay. it was the first time in awhile that I had a moment to look around my living space. this place was a mess! Not that I have anything against guys, but this looked like a frat boy's thrashed dorm. I think after my previous day's drama, my eyes were wide open to see things I hadn't paid attention to in a while.
"Maybe I'm thinking too much." I said talking to myself out loud, (another silly habit of mine) and shaking my head as I gave a slow, deliberate surveillance of my wrecked bedroom.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I left my room, and walked down the hall, hoping to find the rest of my house clean. That is not what awaited me. It was as fucked up as my bedroom was. Obviously I knew I made the mess since I lived alone, but I couldn't believe that I would let it get this way. Jackets were no longer in the coat closet, but balled up on the floor, draped over the couch, tossed on the dining room chairs, and table and in other places they didn't belong. The garbage can was over-crowded with refuse.
Hunger pangs instructed me to the kitchen. I opened my refrigerator in pursuit of breakfast and found it only contained beer and ketchup.
"Nope. I am not thinking enough apparently." I said to myself to acknowledge my reality as I dusted crumbs from the bottoms of my feet, paying close attention to the fact that I had only walked 15 inches into my kitchen and already had to get grit out from between my toes.
Traditionally I was a perfectionist. I kept my living space immaculate. I couldn't enjoy myself in filth. I wasn't obsessive compulsive or anything, but It bugged me! I wasn't comfortable enough to enjoy eating, showering or sleeping if I knew there was a huge mess somewhere in my house. The only reason something would be out of place is if my mind were preoccupied with something heavy, and at that point in my life things were extremely heavy.
It was 4:42am when I finally gave up. I decided to leave. I wiped the sleep out of my eyes, crusty and sore from crying. I thought about getting up, but continued to lay there. I was exhausted. My mind was over active all night. Sleep was hardly attainable. I kept waking up and looking at the clock. I had this thing about checking the time. I would check the time frequently and would make a mental note to keep tabs on what I was doing.
I had an irrational phobia of wasting time. For me productive activities could mean working, hanging out with friends, or partying. I just had to be doing something. You could say I feared my mortality, and it was coming sooner the more time I wasted. I never claimed to be sane. I was quite the opposite, understandably so.
Spending a whole night violently wrapping myself into a cocoon in my silky blankets didn't fall into the productive category. I spun around like a slow motion tornado in my blankets all night. By the time I woke up it was a tangled, twisted mass of bedding and body parts. It took me a few minutes to realize I had to free myself in order to get out of bed. I did so cursing and thrashing, I was terribly upset I had spent the night at the clutch of my own subconscious. Something had to be done.
I sat up slowly, I needed to get my bearings before standing up. I laid my hands on the bed on either side of me to brace myself for lift off. I sat there for a moment preparing for blast off. I looked down at my injured hand and flexed it. It looked as broken as i felt. It throbbed from the shattered sunglasses that impaled me yesterday. I could feel my heart. It was beating abnormally. It throbbed too.
With a yawn and a stretch I got out of bed. I fumbled around, tripping over things in the dark, walking like a zombie to get to my closet. I squinted in pain as the light flicked on. I searched for something to wear. I found nothing amidst the cluttered mess. Normally this closet was organized and neat, teaming with clothes. Normally i could find a pair of shoes. That morning was not normal. It was right then when things began to unravel.
Becoming increasingly irritated, I began to notice many things around my room were in an equal
state of dismay. it was the first time in awhile that I had a moment to look around my living space. this place was a mess! Not that I have anything against guys, but this looked like a frat boy's thrashed dorm. I think after my previous day's drama, my eyes were wide open to see things I hadn't paid attention to in a while.
"Maybe I'm thinking too much." I said talking to myself out loud, (another silly habit of mine) and shaking my head as I gave a slow, deliberate surveillance of my wrecked bedroom.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I left my room, and walked down the hall, hoping to find the rest of my house clean. That is not what awaited me. It was as fucked up as my bedroom was. Obviously I knew I made the mess since I lived alone, but I couldn't believe that I would let it get this way. Jackets were no longer in the coat closet, but balled up on the floor, draped over the couch, tossed on the dining room chairs, and table and in other places they didn't belong. The garbage can was over-crowded with refuse.
Hunger pangs instructed me to the kitchen. I opened my refrigerator in pursuit of breakfast and found it only contained beer and ketchup.
"Nope. I am not thinking enough apparently." I said to myself to acknowledge my reality as I dusted crumbs from the bottoms of my feet, paying close attention to the fact that I had only walked 15 inches into my kitchen and already had to get grit out from between my toes.
Traditionally I was a perfectionist. I kept my living space immaculate. I couldn't enjoy myself in filth. I wasn't obsessive compulsive or anything, but It bugged me! I wasn't comfortable enough to enjoy eating, showering or sleeping if I knew there was a huge mess somewhere in my house. The only reason something would be out of place is if my mind were preoccupied with something heavy, and at that point in my life things were extremely heavy.
I wasn't exactly the poster child for the emotionally stable. Especially now noticing more and more things amiss made something snap inside my head. I sat at the kitchen table, head in my hands. I wasn't crying, I probably should have been. I had only one thought in my head the entire night and that was "What if I see him.." I was frustrated! I was disoriented from a lack of sleep and being emotionally drained. Tears would have been a release, but I'm pretty sure I donated all my cleansing tears to yesterday's tear charity pot.
The condition of my apartment was like a slap in the face. I was blind. I knew then and there I had to leave! Then a light bulb appeared and I lifted my head up and blurted out, " I HAVE VACATION TIME!" while pointing my index finger to the ceiling.
The condition of my apartment was like a slap in the face. I was blind. I knew then and there I had to leave! Then a light bulb appeared and I lifted my head up and blurted out, " I HAVE VACATION TIME!" while pointing my index finger to the ceiling.
I had been putting it off because it seemed like a waste of my time to go somewhere and just do nothing. Although I was never so happy with myself for not taking it sooner. Right then I needed a moment to untangle all of the knots that had collected in the loose strings of my life. This was the first time in weeks I had stopped to notice what was happening. No more auto-pilot. I knew I couldn't live like this anymore. With a quick push off the floor, I stood up.
I leaned up against the bar, took the house phone from it's charging cradle and called my boss. The conversation was really short, since it was so early. I'm pretty sure I woke him up. I didn't think about that when I dialed. It seemed like he wasn't mad, and that was a good sign.
I meekly asked about the probability of me taking my vacation right away. I didn't even need to make up a story, or further elaborate at all. He yelled at me for not taking my vacation sooner. He also told me I was a workaholic! (The NERVE of calling out one of my flaws!) Apparently, I never smiled anymore, and I always looked deep in thought. He told me I needed to get away, recharge my batteries and come back with a sense of calm.
I was glad we were on the same page. I thanked him profusely, hung up the phone and crossed off all the days I was supposed to work on the calender. He gave me 15 days. My heart started beating and I could feel myself getting anxious. Not bad anxious though. The good kind of anxious, like when you are about to go to Disney Land or something.
I managed to climb over the many obstacles in the dark on the living room floor to turn on the main light. Once again I stopped to have a look at my home. I felt this pit in my stomach twist at the sight of my living room. Laundry baskets full of clean clothes were laid on the floor and couch with the intention of eventually getting to it.
No wonder my damn closet was housing moths instead of clothes!
My mail was unopened in a messy pile on the couch thrown there daily to help collect dust in the room. I found, and opened the newest bank statement. I wanted to drive somewhere, and to do that I would need money. Luckily, I had plenty of it. Aside from paying bills, buying my daily coffee, food and gas, I wasn't spending much. I made a fist and pulled it towards my torso in the universal "YES!" gesture.
I managed to climb over the many obstacles in the dark on the living room floor to turn on the main light. Once again I stopped to have a look at my home. I felt this pit in my stomach twist at the sight of my living room. Laundry baskets full of clean clothes were laid on the floor and couch with the intention of eventually getting to it.
No wonder my damn closet was housing moths instead of clothes!
My mail was unopened in a messy pile on the couch thrown there daily to help collect dust in the room. I found, and opened the newest bank statement. I wanted to drive somewhere, and to do that I would need money. Luckily, I had plenty of it. Aside from paying bills, buying my daily coffee, food and gas, I wasn't spending much. I made a fist and pulled it towards my torso in the universal "YES!" gesture.
I was going to leave, and I wasn't going to tell a soul until I was at least a few hours away from here. Nobody was going to invite themselves along, or try to talk me out of it! No fucking way! I wasn't even going to give them the chance to intervene.
I spotted a pair of shoes on the floor and put them on without realizing they were 2 different colored flip flops, if I had, I wouldn't have cared. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there. Still in my black p.j. shorts and a tight tank top, I just threw on the closest hoodie, and grabbed my keys and purse. I looked for my cell, but realized it was in the car. I stacked 2 laundry baskets on top of each other put my keys and purse on top and I left with haste. I had to stop abruptly at the top of the stairs because I almost left for 2 weeks without locking my door.
"Alright. Take two!" I said encouraging myself as I picked up the baskets and maneuvered myself down the stairs.
On my way down the stairs I stopped again to throw my hair into a quick pony tail, and to zip up my hoodie. I carefully meandered down the stairs looking to the left of the tower of laundry i was carrying so i wouldn't fall. By the time I hit the last step I was in a near sprint to my car, well as close a sprint one can get into carrying a load like I was.
I almost felt spooked by all I was noticing. It was all too much for me to handle on top of the crazy shit that was going on in my love life. It was the perfect storm to make a person go completely mad. I was in no way going to let that happen. I loaded up my trunk with the laundry baskets, and to my joy I realized that there was one place that was clean - my car.
Once in the car I immediately started the engine. Letting it warm up, I pulled down the visor and opened the mirror to see how terrible I looked. My eyes were normally a deep green but right then they were blood shot and red from crying all night. They looked almost brown due to the dark circles around my eyes. My makeup from the day before was smudged, and smeared as a tell tale sign that my day ended badly before I went to sleep.
I spotted a pair of shoes on the floor and put them on without realizing they were 2 different colored flip flops, if I had, I wouldn't have cared. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there. Still in my black p.j. shorts and a tight tank top, I just threw on the closest hoodie, and grabbed my keys and purse. I looked for my cell, but realized it was in the car. I stacked 2 laundry baskets on top of each other put my keys and purse on top and I left with haste. I had to stop abruptly at the top of the stairs because I almost left for 2 weeks without locking my door.
"Alright. Take two!" I said encouraging myself as I picked up the baskets and maneuvered myself down the stairs.
On my way down the stairs I stopped again to throw my hair into a quick pony tail, and to zip up my hoodie. I carefully meandered down the stairs looking to the left of the tower of laundry i was carrying so i wouldn't fall. By the time I hit the last step I was in a near sprint to my car, well as close a sprint one can get into carrying a load like I was.
I almost felt spooked by all I was noticing. It was all too much for me to handle on top of the crazy shit that was going on in my love life. It was the perfect storm to make a person go completely mad. I was in no way going to let that happen. I loaded up my trunk with the laundry baskets, and to my joy I realized that there was one place that was clean - my car.
Once in the car I immediately started the engine. Letting it warm up, I pulled down the visor and opened the mirror to see how terrible I looked. My eyes were normally a deep green but right then they were blood shot and red from crying all night. They looked almost brown due to the dark circles around my eyes. My makeup from the day before was smudged, and smeared as a tell tale sign that my day ended badly before I went to sleep.
I was thankful for this vacation. As I slammed the visor shut, I pulled out of my parking space, and was out of there in record time, it was only 5:09am.
I yawned while I drove to the closest drive through cafe. I went to this place almost everyday. I was always annoyed by the preppy, upbeat snob who worked there in the early morning. this particular girl always gave me funny looks, as if she were better than me. She had long blond hair, and beautiful eyes, but they were of course filled with hate. I think I recognized her from high school, but I never spoke to her then so I wasn't sure.
Luckily the only thought in my head today was getting caffeine to fuel my spirit journey of sorts.
I yawned while I drove to the closest drive through cafe. I went to this place almost everyday. I was always annoyed by the preppy, upbeat snob who worked there in the early morning. this particular girl always gave me funny looks, as if she were better than me. She had long blond hair, and beautiful eyes, but they were of course filled with hate. I think I recognized her from high school, but I never spoke to her then so I wasn't sure.
Luckily the only thought in my head today was getting caffeine to fuel my spirit journey of sorts.
My mouth watered in anticipation as I pulled up to the window. I ordered the largest coffee with extra shots of espresso. Always ahead of the game I also ordered energy drinks for later. As usual I didn't tip, because the coffee girl was a complete stuck up bitch.
I didn't want to have to stop again for awhile. I knew that just driving somewhere, with no set in stone destination was the best way to sort out my cluttered mind. This was an easy thing to accomplish. I had pizza in the car from the night before, and energy drinks. Aside from bathroom breaks, and gas stops I was set until well into the afternoon. I knew that I wouldn't get actually lost, but the feeling of being out there and not knowing where I was exactly excited me.
I didn't want to have to stop again for awhile. I knew that just driving somewhere, with no set in stone destination was the best way to sort out my cluttered mind. This was an easy thing to accomplish. I had pizza in the car from the night before, and energy drinks. Aside from bathroom breaks, and gas stops I was set until well into the afternoon. I knew that I wouldn't get actually lost, but the feeling of being out there and not knowing where I was exactly excited me.
"I swear I am going to figure this all out." I said to myself as I merged onto the freeway. I liked that. Free. way. The way to freedom. I started laughing at myself for thinking something so cheesy. It was true though. I hoped to leave on the freeway, and come home feeling freer than I had felt today when I woke up.
My hand was really hurting. I hoped I wasn't going to have to visit some random hospital on my vacation! I looked down at my throbbing hand again. I saw the huge gash on the bottom of my palm (that was now bluish purple and possibly infected) and I winced.
"I need to find my first aid kit." I said out loud. I knew it was my own damn fault! Often impetuous, I did things that were pretty daft. The events from the day before were party to blame too, but at the epicenter of all these issues, I am the reason this shit had happened. You make decisions in life, and you have to live by them.
That's when my mind began to wander. For the first time I was letting it wander to these places. I had been keeping myself on one small one way, one lane track for months now. I kept myself busy and pushed the unwanted thoughts away. It explained why I was making asinine decisions, and rationalizing them until I no longer felt the need to worry, or to listen to my conscience.
I was still paying attention to driving, making sure to stay within the speed limit, and not swerving off into the median, but my mind began to act like white blood cells attacking a foreign ailment inside of my head. The sun was rising to my left. I let myself bask in it and thoughts took over from there. I started working out what was poisoning me. I had to walk through every single detail from start to finish. Things had to change. Not end necessarily, just change.
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