I can feel the numbness ebbing.
Today was a mediocre day. Hardly the type of day-after one would imagine a girl having since hitting rock bottom the day before. Yesterday, the day in which rock bottom was hit, wasn't the type of day you imagine hitting rock bottom. None of this is how it should be, but this is how it is. Today, though, I woke up, didn't I? I watched an episode of Lost and drank a cup of coffee. I got out of bed and hugged the dog and had a chat with my mom. I pulled out the classifieds and started looking for a new job. After making a list of websites and phone numbers, I got in the shower and started getting ready for work. I did all of this without thinking, without feeling, without telling myself to move forward. I knew what I had to do and I did it, and I suppose that is similar to the way a day-after rock bottom should be. I didn't have the power to send out resumes and call non-stop every place I could. I had to go to work, I had to keep living like people do.
I can feel my heart beating, in my chest, so I know that I am alive. But all of these things I did in the morning were washed away when I got to work. I didn't feel like I was numb, not like I did yesterday, but I didn't feel like I was living. I felt like I was starting new, but like I wasn't moving. I wasn't excited for the day, and shouldn't I have been? It's so strange, because I found out I have four days off in a row this week, so I was happy to learn I could spend it finding a new job. I even set a goal that I would have one by the time I was back at work. And, I was working up stairs, closing with people that I liked. I was smiling at myself, at little jokes and memories of old ones, making myself happy. I was talking and behaving like normal, like nothing had happened, like I hadn't admitted I would end my life if I couldn't start it soon. I don't know, looking back, if the behavior was false; I don't think it was, I think I might have truly taken a step forward. But, my happiness was so fragile, from here seems like it might have been.
I was yelled at today. Yelled at in front of customers. It was mean, too, the way he did it, how he said it. And from someone who I thought would never do that. I don't know what was going on in his life at that moment, maybe he was taking something out on me--he was in a strange mood all day--but that isn't an excuse. He didn't know what was going on with me, and his outburst at something I had been told to do by my other manager shattered my little pantomime of normalcy. The numbness set in.
And then Amanda happened. Then Amanda gave me a hug that nearly stopped my heart, and all the physical and emotional pain I had evaporated. It came back later, but lighter, until it slowly ebbed away. She kept me smiling, and once the night started to settle into itself, I started to smile again on my own.
When we got off, we decided to go get cheap coffee and talk. I decided to tell her my life story, get it all out there, everything I was feeling, so she could start helping me live again--live for the first time. We spent thirty minutes hacking away at an inch of ice and shoving several inches of snow from her car. I took it upon myself to do it. I made a joke that I am the man; I like to do shit like that because it makes me feel useful, like the hero. So I did it. I got clever and found a way to make it work with a tiny, plastic ice scrapper and my un-gloved hands. I hacked away, laughing at the situation, and at us in it. I hacked away until I could only laugh. Laugh at how dull everything has been, how numb everything has been. I scraped and I shattered and I pulled away until all the numbness I had was in my red and bleeding fingers. Until Amanda's car was clear of its ice shell. Until mine started to break away. And I was laughing, not really caring about the numbness, or the cold, or the fact that I really didn't have to do it, but I needed to do something, so I did. At one point, I climbed on her hood to shove away snow and get my fingers underneath a sheet I couldn't reach by leaning from the side. I went out of my way, and I had fun, doing something we all see as a tedious chore. I had fun, and I kind of made life easier for a friend. Everything melted away. I let go and let it.
I told Amanda, for doing that, she owes me friendship for life. She has to come to my wedding.
She told me she'd send me cookies when I'm deployed.
I'm really glad I found her. I think that with her, this will be easier. Changing my life will be easier. Pulling myself up from rock bottom will be easier because of her.
On the way home, I sang in the car. I mean, I fucking belted it. I sang like you do when you know you can sing, when you have nothing to lose, when you open up to the song and just let it take over. I sang, and after chipping away at ice and telling my whole life story, eating pancakes and throwing around some jokes, I felt like I wasn't imitating life quite as much as I was before.
I told her thank you. I don't feel quite alive just yet, but the numbness is ebbing away. I can feel myself waking up. I told her, "let's keep this up."
How Eddie Izzard, Skeletons, and a Few Adventures Saved My Life
No comments:
Post a Comment