Saturday
I stood outside in my bare feet last night even though it’s way too soon for that. I tried to ignore the cold, but then the bite of it grounded me. An hour later, with my feet wrapped up in a blanket, I had that anxiety attack anyway. I wanted to skip forward in time, but that’s not in my control either.
And since I’ve clearly taken a turn for the dramatic… before the bare feet and the face-numbing anxiety, I actually spent ten minutes tearing a (not that) old towel into squares. Apparently I’ve already begun to call upon all the depression-era knowledge I ever gleaned from my grandmother. I’m ready. I’m already creating rags, People. RAGS! Who needs a fucking rag? Because I have oodles of them now. And who knew the destruction of linens would afford such an outlet? I should have started doing this last year when Gwen started middle school.
Like G, when I was 13, my anxiety was big and out of control. It was 1984 and my mom and I went to see a movie called Red Dawn. It has since been remade, but I’m talking about the original - that other moving starring Jennifer Gray and Patrick Swayze.
There’s a scene where the kids are sitting in their classrooms, enjoying a normal day at school in America, when parachutes begin to dot the sky outside. Before long, foreign soldiers are on the ground, shooting people. They were shooting us. Well, the characters that represent us, but you understand, right?
It was terrifying. Or least to me it was. Jesus, I hope I’m not the only fool that was so scared of the idea we might be invaded by Russia and our families put in cages. Anyone? I get the feeling I might be alone on this one.
Well, all that enormous, out of control terror I felt when I was 13 and scared of World War III is exactly how it felt last night when I went off the rails. I was 13 again and terrified because I don’t feel like I have any competent grown ups looking out for us.
We’re going to be okay. We are.
And since I’ve clearly taken a turn for the dramatic… before the bare feet and the face-numbing anxiety, I actually spent ten minutes tearing a (not that) old towel into squares. Apparently I’ve already begun to call upon all the depression-era knowledge I ever gleaned from my grandmother. I’m ready. I’m already creating rags, People. RAGS! Who needs a fucking rag? Because I have oodles of them now. And who knew the destruction of linens would afford such an outlet? I should have started doing this last year when Gwen started middle school.
Like G, when I was 13, my anxiety was big and out of control. It was 1984 and my mom and I went to see a movie called Red Dawn. It has since been remade, but I’m talking about the original - that other moving starring Jennifer Gray and Patrick Swayze.
There’s a scene where the kids are sitting in their classrooms, enjoying a normal day at school in America, when parachutes begin to dot the sky outside. Before long, foreign soldiers are on the ground, shooting people. They were shooting us. Well, the characters that represent us, but you understand, right?
It was terrifying. Or least to me it was. Jesus, I hope I’m not the only fool that was so scared of the idea we might be invaded by Russia and our families put in cages. Anyone? I get the feeling I might be alone on this one.
Well, all that enormous, out of control terror I felt when I was 13 and scared of World War III is exactly how it felt last night when I went off the rails. I was 13 again and terrified because I don’t feel like I have any competent grown ups looking out for us.
We’re going to be okay. We are.
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