Out with the babe today again, boy was she in a bad mood this morning, even after our little stroll and breakfast. I wonder what upsets her.
We’re out shopping at the same old place, I quickly and luckily find a white Hello Kitty swivel chair and sit down to read my latest Bukowski acquisition. The darkness overcomes me again and I take a little trip to the head for a cinnamon “smoke” and some PMR –these are my medicine for the time being.
I hide at one of the stalls; I’m lucky again, there’s no one there. I stay for a bit and walk out to wash my hands, and I remember my old warehouse job, where the bathroom breaks were a respite for many of us who worked there. Some guys would watch whole TV series in the stalls — full episodes maybe, at full volume. I cared more, I had rent to pay and a woman counting on me, so I took a breath and got back to work.
Years before I didn’t understand how to control the darkness or understood what was happening; I still don’t, but it’s a little easier to catch. Docs, nurses, social workers, they don’t care if one jumps out of a moving vehicle going over 70/mph — maybe some do, but finding even one is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. The TV is full of talk concerning suicide prevention, but the reality is a joke –most people just don’t give a crap.
I walk back to the floor and remind myself that it is good to be around people, even strangers. Isolation is the enemy of movement. I find the babe; she’s got my pen and notebook. I find Hello Kitty again and I sit to write — writing is my medicine; writing is my job. And I don’t feel so useless again.