All I Want To Do Is Live

I write this missive after the ebbing away of an unusually hard crying spell. It was so hard in fact, that I became worried. I called my therapist and my psychiatrist’s office, making contact with neither, but I was able to secure a Zoom appointment with my psychiatrist tomorrow.

Eventually, the hard crying ended. But I felt it’s shadow lingering.

What’s the crying all about? My general practitioner would probably say I need to take a higher dose of anti-depressants. My therapist might say I am working through some grief. My psychiatrist is relatively new in my life. I don’t know what he’ll say but I’ll find out tomorrow.

Here’s what I know to say: for over a year, I stayed up way too late, talking for hours on the phone night after night after having reconnected with a friend who lives on the other side of the country. I was perpetually sleep deprived and emotionally stretched thin. But he made me laugh and complimented me often and as I felt lonely and all alone in my life, those were enough. He fed a hope that he might possibly become more than just a friend. He might move across the country to be a part of my life.

That possibility existed briefly but it is gone forever. Harsh words were spoken that broke my heart, dashing my hopes to the ground from a great height.

I realized the highly unstable emotional nature of this man much earlier than the huge irrational blowup that happened over the phone, the one that ended our friendship. But because I felt so lonely and alone in my life, I believed these were quirks that were unimportant. Or I believed he would heal. Either way, I was engaging in magical thinking.

I’m not entirely sure what this grief I am experiencing is all about. It’s not just about the loss of a friend. It’s about the loss of people I can trust. I am feeling grief from the hurt caused by self-righteous people who use sarcasm and snark. I was hit not only by my “friend” with self-righteous sarcasm and snark, but by family members who were being self-righteous and snarky about my “friend.” And in both instances, their self-righteousness snark was always more important than my feelings. I can accept this level of betrayal from the alleged friend much more easily than I can from my family. Additionally, standing in between two bodies of snark ripped me apart.

People who are so convinced they are right and others are wrong will say anything they care to say, intending to hurt rather than heal. I find myself doing this sometimes. And I don’t want to be this person. I want to be a person who cares enough about others to talk with them, to reason, to work through difficulties without sarcasm, without snark, and without becoming passive aggressive. Conversely, I want those sorts of people in my life.

I awoke this morning to two deer grazing on the sparse grass in the front of the house where I’m staying. Such gentle creatures fill my heart with such relief and hope. I yearn to find gentle humans among whom I can dwell. Just as I did with the vultures, I asked the deer if they had anything to tell me. A healer in the Cherokee tradition taught me to do this. As soon as I ask, a response immediately comes into my brain that I need to hear. This morning, the response was, “Be still and clear in your heart.”

I set out on the 35 mile drive to Kill Devil Hills where a capable mechanic would determine the cause of the battery and check engine lights coming on in my car. I was apprehensive about learning the cause, so it required a bit of an internal push to initiate this journey.

If you recall, I arrived in Rodanthe at night, so I hadn’t fully taken in the scenery along the route there. Besides, I was a bit distracted by the battery and check engine lights coming on and worried that there was no place around for me to stop. In the light of day, I discovered that I am indeed on a very thin strip of land in the middle of the water, that the sand wants to cover the roads and so lots of machines are constantly at work shoveling the sand up into the dunes by the road, that there is truly nothing between Rodanthe and Nags Head, and that humans are silly beings to build “permanent” structures on such places as this.

I got within a half mile of garage when my car stalled. The power was rapidly dying but I had enough left to pull into a parking lot. I called to let them know I wouldn’t be on time for my appointment and why. They recommended I call Bayside Towing, tell them Meineke sent me, and I’d get a deal. The tow truck was there in no time and got me to the garage safe and sound. The driver was most courteous and even had a decorated dashboard for Christmas. Despite the bad luck of breaking down en route, everything proceeded pretty painlessly.

I had a bad alternator. Having nowhere to go and no way to get anywhere, I sat in the Meineke waiting area while the bad alternator was replaced with a good one. News played on the television. Why is the news always playing in waiting areas? Why not the Cartoon Network or Comedy Central? You would think doctors and mechanics wouldn’t care to depress their clients further. I mean, they do hope to get paid after all.

I was rescued from the news by a Jersey girl named Susie. She’d lost her husband and her brother in September but she was a tough gal. She told me about her large family and what hilarious nuts they all were. She told me how much she laughed when they were all together. She showed me photos. And indeed, they appeared to be nuts. Susie was lovely and gave me her card as she was leaving. She told me that if I get lonely, give her a call and we’d go out for lunch. I thought for a moment that she must be an angel to have seen inside my heart so astutely.

After the car was repaired and I paid way more money than I’d expected to spend during this get away, I drove to the grocery store to pick up some supplies for my stay. Foodstuffs. But I couldn’t make myself get out of the car once I arrived. There I sat in the parking lot wondering if I really needed to secure foodstuffs for my stay. Or did I need to high tail it home, beat down by the outside world, back to KVegas, back to my parents house, back to a place where I would absolutely not allow myself the space to grieve?

I sat pondering these things for much too long but ultimately, I got out of the car and went grocery shopping.

Driving back towards Rodanthe, a little restaurant called Food Dudes Kitchen caught my eye in Nags Head. It looked like a good spot to acquire some comfort food. I was correct. They had a mac ’n’ cheese with Cheezits on top. Its savory warmth soothed my soul.

In the bathroom, there were funny little fish creatures made from beer bottle caps and wine corks. I found myself taking photos because I wanted to share them with someone. This is what happens when I’m alone. I want to share my sights with someone. Is that because I feel like the sights aren’t valid if only I see them? Just me alone and no one else? I may need to practice taking no pictures tomorrow. But for now, here are photos of fish creations.

I left the restaurant. The sun had come out for the first time in days. I took advantage of this and walked along the ocean in Nags Head. Then I drove back to Rodanthe and walked to the Rodanthe Pier. It appears to be closed due to its dilapidated state. But the structure fascinated me and I felt a kinship with it. It’s still useful, to a degree. Not as useful as it may have been in the past. And not much to look at. Still, the stories it could tell! Standing still and listening, I could almost hear them.

After my walk, I returned to the place I’m staying and as soon as I entered my room, I started to cry again. Deep, heavy sobs whose intensity would not cease.

This grief is a force of nature. A tempest. It is mystifying. In time I will figure it out. As the deer said, be still and clear in my heart. Only then will I know.

As hard as this is, I’m staying with myself, by myself, for the holiday. I’m the only one who knows my heart. And right now, that’s the sort of person I need to be around right now. I am exactly where I need to be. Because, “The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.” -Isak Dinesen

I dedicate this missive to dear friends: Meghan, Wesley, Lucy, Melissa, Chris, and Jen, who checked in on me yesterday and today. Thank-you. I love you.