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8:50 p.m. - Thursday, Nov. 15, 2012
Opening Doors
I feel it most in the breath before a door opens. I may have written this before. I can tell the depth of my regression by the length of the pause. Sometimes I feel the resistance, and push through it as if it was never there. The door swings open and I'm in motion. But there are still days when the door never opens. I'll show up wherever I had agreed to be, and never actually appear. The last time was about a month ago.

I was on my way home from work and I had stopped at a library that was offering a free vegan baking class. Pumpkin chocolate brownies. I pulled into the parking lot and sat . . .not touching the handle on the door. Just thinking. About whether I could really go in. I sat there for 15 minutes . . .staring at the building, the clock, the cars pulling in and out . . .I couldn't do it. I started the car and drove home.

It takes an incredible amount of energy to hide everything you feel. All the time. From everyone. Including yourself.

 

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