Monday, December 8, 2014

Look What They've Done to My Brain

It occurred to me, it might not be water pressure - it could be the shower head. I, then, did what anyone would do. I took the shower head off. It was disastrous for a moment, a fleeting and soaking moment, I probably should've waited until I was OUT of the shower, but it didn't seem right.

I had this weird little minute in the shower - water was unpredictable and heavy on my head and hot on my skin. Clark vacated, so I was alone in the bathroom. I don't know how to tell you this without just telling you this: I was having fun. This brief, chance moment in time nothing *really* was happening. Nothing really except everything was happening.

And as I stepped out of the shower (with a clear plan in mind: after work stop by Meijer to pick up a new shower head, new vinyl linings, and maybe, a loaf of bread) I realized that probably (knock on wood) I am coming back around. I survived this summer. I survived last winter. I survived the fall of my humanity. I survived hurting everyone around me (they survived, too). While kicking and gasping and fighting for life, patient people presented themselves to gently hold my head out of the water or convince me, wildly, to not give up.

There were other people, too. People who would theorize about my undoing and let it be known they had their theories. One certain person came to mind this morning: she's just doing this for attention she told one of my friends. He, of course, told me. That's okay, I needed to know who and how and why people were fighting me when I was fighting me. It's a particularly cruel thing to say about someone who, on a good day, could only stand up to lie back down again. And cry.

She's still out there in my immediate surroundings, I haven't seen her and that's okay. I don't really want to. I can't shake the thought that while I was crying myself to sleep she was telling mutual friends caviler-like that I wasn't hurting. Like she knew. Like anyone knew. She's still out there and I'm still out here - needing a shower head.

I'm coming back around. I survived summer and the winter before.

1 comment:

  1. love you baby deer. this is beautiful & invigorating & fuck whoever that was.