On a Clear Day
It’s nice out. I could sleep out here, but not really- only in the daytime, because of the bugs and spiders. I’m waiting to hear from Rick. Generous Rick. He goes out of his way, one hundred percent.
So I took a shower, let the hot water roll off my face, and whoosh, right down my back. Then we drove into Adrian for a few things. There’s a birthday coming up.
A first birthday.
I slept through the night, but I heard Jason packing his lunch for work. So I went to the bathroom and sat down on the couch, my makeshift desk. I hear the low hum of the water.
And.
I hear Diamond breathing.
Outside I go.
It’s cold out this morning, only sixty degrees. I’d fallen asleep last night in a T-shirt and shorts. This morning I put on long pajamas and a sweatshirt.
Socks too.
The windows around me are all open. I sat out for about thirty minutes, breathing, looking down at my phone. When the yard lights clicked off, I heard the switch and looked up to see Greg’s headlamp through the shade, just walking slow circles around his trailer. Odd, honestly.
Inside.
I go.
Outside I am, hours later. Gorgeous. Low eighties, the sky a beautiful shade of cornflower blue, the best blue. Clear as day. No clouds. No smoke.
No.
Nothing.
In between then and now, I played in my garden. Cut down dead flowers, raked rocks, shuffled mulch, trimmed up the herb garden. Not the lavender side.
Not yet, anyway.
I’m sipping a mixture of orange juice and 7-Up, trying to fight off a headache and some dizziness. I think I was out in the sun too long. No shade.
Direct sun.
Fifty-seven years old.
Not good, and not smart.
Stupid.
I’ll sit, drink water, breathe.
In the shade.
And wait for Jason to get home with the fan blowing in my face. He should be here soon, about half an hour.
The Weight of Wanting Nothing
Barre’s tonight at 5:30. Do I miss it? Not really. I haven’t been in so long. I’m sure it would do my body good, and my mind too. But it’s fine for now. What I actually need is the moving, the physical part of it. I’m always in my garden, and I’m looking at it right now.
That’s been my exercise.
I’m wondering if Jason will go out with me tomorrow to dig some holes. I’ve been thinking about moving some irises that have sat in the same spot forever, trading places with the lavender so it gets better sun. Only a high of eighty-one today, partly cloudy.
A little more sun.
I’m typing in bed. The most comfortable bed. I forget that. I’m never in here except when Jason isn’t. It’s the only time I can be in this room, the only time I can breathe in here.
I don’t want this anymore. I don’t know what I want. I do know what I don’t want. Maybe if I stop accepting the things I don’t want, it’ll make the things I do want easier to reach.
There is nothing I want.
So there is nothing to strive for.
Nothing to yearn for. Nothing to desire. Nothing left to desire. Just the thought of it makes me sick. This whole situation is awful. There’s nothing we can do.
We’re stuck.
So make the best of it.
No, forget that.
How do I do this?
Just breathe.
A Sleepless Night
Last night was just terrible. I barely slept. Diamond was all over me. There was a smell in the living room, which was a mess, and I had blankets wrapped around my feet when I tried to get up to pee.
Tried. Didn’t quite make it.
By the time I got changed and settled outside, I was furious, honestly, knowing Jason gets to sleep so comfortably on that bed.
Well.
Not tonight. Time to get up.
It ended with me asking him one question.
Jason.
What have you done to better yourself?
“I’ve done nothing but provide for this family.”
Wow.
Typical answer.
Yep.
I slept in the bedroom, on my own bed, alone. It felt great. I need that more often. I seriously don’t see that changing anytime soon. Maybe if I storm into the bedroom mad enough, it will. I said my piece, for whatever that’s worth.
Lies. All lies.
I woke up at 9:30, too late for church. I wasn’t too upset about it, honestly. I’d been wanting out of it since last night, tired, especially after the mess this morning. I walked straight outside with my computer and coffee in hand.
A little chilly.
Letting Go of Clutter
What to do, what to do.
What did I end up doing? Cleaned out the storage unit, the two of us. There’s so much I want to throw away. I’ve been carrying too much weight. Most of it will never see the inside of a real home again, just that unit. Some of it I let go without a second thought. Some I sat with for a few minutes before deciding to move forward anyway. I told Jason, “I don’t want to leave this for the kids.” They won’t want it.
Nope.
The world is already full enough of clutter.
We sat outside for a while, like we do most days now, then went in to start a new show with Harrison Ford and Jason Segel. A little bit of everything in it, happy, funny, sad, mad. A good one. We binged the whole first season.
I dozed on and off. Been up since eight, since Jason first went into the room. A bad smell had settled somewhere, so I started cleaning the kitchen, hoping that’s where it was coming from. Who knows, the dog, the cat, the carpet, the air itself, stale and unmanageable.
A pit stop, maybe.
A Clean Slate of My Choosing
I don’t know anymore. It’s all up in the air. I don’t want church. I don’t want the Y. I don’t want to socialize whatsoever.
I want to stay tucked into my invisible spot. Still.
Ever since that problem with my medicine, everything shifted at once, my body, my head, my soul, all of it.
Gone.
All the positive things I’d been building got wiped clean. An unwanted clean slate. However, I do want a clean slate, just one of my own choosing. What do I actually want clean? A lot. How?
I feel like a mess. He’s a mess. We’re all just a mess right now.
But.
I’m outside, looking toward the end of the porch. It’s faint, but I can see Nala’s shadow in the corner, and sprigs of peppermint growing up around the garden light. The yard lights in the back are on, and that’s it. Black, as black as it gets out there. A little creepy.
Do I want to go back in? Not yet.
Firepit, hot coffee, sweatshirt, socks, and a hat. And Nala, my little bodyguard. Diamond won’t dare come out here, too dark, too cold.
And Jason’s gone now. Time to go in.
3:32 AM.
Happy, happy.
All of a sudden it’s 8:49 in the morning.
The next day.
New Song
My, oh my, where does it go? I’m sitting out back, dressed warm, waiting for the sun to come out. It’s up front right now, but I don’t keep chairs up there anymore. Or tables.
Or flowers.
But I have the back.
I wasn’t looking, exactly. Well, I was, but I wasn’t waiting.
Bright blue and sunny again.
Wonderful.
A slight chill on my arms once I took off my sweatshirt, starting to feel a little choked in it anyway. My ears are stuffy too. Time for some allergy medicine, probably, from playing in the flowers all day. It’s been breezy, with things floating through the air. Better be allergies. Not something else again.
Shawn Williams called. I have an appointment at two today. He called just to double-check; wasn’t sure he’d make it on time, but he did.
When I walked into the church, I recognized faces. Not names. Faces. A learning process.
I’m not reading. I haven’t been reading. All I’ve been doing is searching. Shawn knows this. He’s helping.
I found something while I was there. And I did something while I was there too. I think he was a little sad that I had nobody with me, but this is how I want it. This is another part of me coming out, and I’m not ready to bring anyone else into it yet.
With a few witnesses I don’t know, I gave, and I’m giving, all of what I have except money. Broke, broke, broke.
After a little more discussion, Minister Shawn Williams submerged my head, body, and feet, fully dressed, into a horse trough full of water.
Water. Warm water.
I’m not especially, or notably, religious. But I needed to do this. I wanted to do this. And I wanted to do it alone, just me, myself, and I.
The Fate…
I want to meet new faces and forget everyone’s names. I want to make new friends and remember their names. I really want to have an independent thought.
Think, think, think.
Yay.
Jason was upset that I didn’t want him there. He doesn’t understand. He was heartbroken about it, and that made me sad in turn. I asked if he wanted to come with me on Sunday, just to see.
“It’s not my thing.”
Alrighty then.
Here, I go again. Time to stretch my legs.
Alone.