Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Recharging and the Condom Aisle

I think Bilbo Baggins said it best when he said, "I feel like butter that's been scraped over too much bread." Can you guys relate to that?

Like when you step off, and get swept away?

You have a job, you write, you read, you play with your dog, you make dinner, you sleep. Then you get an email from a company you're not familiar with and they say, "We just took $59.95 out of your bank account for your one year subscription" and you're like, "Excuse me, what????"

There gets to a point where your body and mind just can't handle it, and you pass out for 12 hours and then wonder why you're still tired when you get out of bed.

Well, I hit that point.

Thankfully, it ended up being my Half Birthday (6 months from my real birthday). For those of you unfamiliar with me, October 19th, 2011, I'd had every intention of killing myself. I'd set the date, set the means, started looking for a home for Baxter. So October 19th, 2012 was a pretty big deal, because a) it was my half birthday, and b) I am still alive. So I contacted some friends and asked if they wanted to celebrate with me.

They said yes.

Just as I hit Portland, Maine I saw this:
Always happens at the most inconvenient time

So I pulled off, got $5 in gas, donated a crap ton of clothes to the biggest GoodWill I'd ever seen, then continued along. Finally, I arrived in the lovely town of Biddeford where I went to college. It amazed me that you can spend YEARS away from home, and still remember each road, each way to avoid tolls.

Stepping out of my car, I inhaled. If you want to know how Biddeford smells, get a large cup of water. Add about two cups of salt to your water. Swirl, swirl again, put your nose inside the cup and inhale. You cannot escape this scent walking to or from class. This sticky smell reminds me that I am home, and acts like stitches to any emotional wounds I may have.

The Atlantic Ocean

I visited John, my college manager, who told me I looked good, which is always a compliment. This man saw me at my worst, when my weight slipped below 100 pounds, fully dressed, keys and a deck of cards in pocket, shoes on. When people would hug me, I could feel their arms go through me because there was nothing left of my body. I know he remembers this, and I know he worries I'll relapse or manage to hurt myself in another way.

It had been a few months since I'd seen him last, and I brought him up to date on my current living situation, my financial woes, and my hopes for the future. Then he told me about him, his kiddos, his wife, work. "Oh," I asked, "what do you guys want for Christmas?"

"Your presence," he said. My heart swelled. It was nice, and reminded me that I am loved, no matter where I am. He also threw some money my way, so I was able to get a full tank of gas and pay for my storage unit this month. (Which also helps me to breathe a little easier, so thanks for that!)

The beautiful sea
After parting from him, I made my way to the ocean, because though she and I have had our quarrels, I love her. The waves were crashing, hard. Even with the radio playing, I could hear the rumble as white foam broke away from the grey water. Growing up in Michigan, yea, we had lakes, and swimming pools, and ponds, but there is something hypnotic about the ocean. The sounds, the smell, the feel. I LOVE the ocean.

It had been raining all day, but I took off my shoes and socks and walked down the stairs and waited until the waves put my feet in the water.

Of course, when the wave finally came, it was a huge one that soaked through my jeans, and I sat for the next half hour wetter that I'd anticipated.

After that, I ran some errands and went to my storage unit. It was raining. Not a soft rain that somewhat makes it feel like you've been sweating mildly. Instead, it was a hard rain that made it feel like you've just jumped in the ocean. My boxes got wet. My helmet, my boarding boots, they all got soaked. Where I was going to try to dig out some books to take home, I just grabbed my snowboard (because Winter is just around the corner!) and threw it in my car and headed over to my friend, Liz's.

We went to our place (Olive Garden), and had a margarita. We talked about politics, gay marriage, my anger with what I believed when I was younger, and other various intense, and sometimes funny things. After, because she didn't believe me, we headed to a branch of the pharmacy I work at. Upon entrance, we were properly greeted (which I commended Chad, the very attractive cashier on), and I promptly asked, "Where are your condoms?" because the store's layout was much different from mine.

He led us in the direction, and I found the large purple box, and exclaimed, "I told you we sell these!" and she stood there, slack jawed, and partially in awe. "I feel like we should have placed a money bet. I did not believe you, at all."

And then we proceeded to laugh, loud enough that our voices bounced off the aisles.

When the adventure finished, we said our goodbyes, she wished me a happy half birthday, and I bought the Some Nights CD by Fun, and rocked it my entire drive home, feeling that feeling which always results in a visit to Biddeford, love.

For your listening pleasure, Some Nights, by Fun :)

It's like I'm a rechargeable battery. Life sucks all the energy out of me, makes me sleep, but doesn't exactly make me feel like I'll make it through the next few weeks with my head up. Time with John (my manager) and time with Liz is like being plugged into an electrical outlet (in a good way). I listen to them talk, smell the smells associated with a garage and a lovely house. I memorize my interactions with them in case I need to recall they way their presence makes me feel.

Then I hug, release, and it's like being unplugged, fully charged, ready to face the next few months/weeks/however long it will be before I need to recharge again.

I never thought I would need people in my life to help keep me afloat. I thrive on living by myself, and roommates freak me out. But there are people from past lives, who still call me by my first name, that I am incredibly grateful that they've been on this roller coaster with me.


  1. Happy Half Birthday!

    So what was the $59.95 taken out of your bank account for. Did I miss that? It was a long post. :)

    Happy Halloween.

  2. I think we have people like that in our lives who help us remember who we are. Sounds like you had a great half birthday. Happy Halloween!


Please know that if you comment and I don't respond, it's not because I don't love you. It's because I don't have wifi, but I do have a bad memory.

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