Monday, September 19, 2011

Where Is The Happy Me?

The heavy patchwork quilt made of soft cotton lay against my numb body. The colors of bright pink, light olive green, dark evergreen, mauve, and clean crisp white that once stood out to me now seem drab and dull. Colorless. This covering that once brought comfort gives nothing now.

The chuncky chicken salad sandwich with mayo, salt and pepper on the night stand might have made me hungry once upon a time but now only a Big Mac with special sauce, a large order of greasy fries and a large creamy vanilla shake will do. But it will only do temporarily. It won’t be long and I’ll be searching for the Snickers and M & M’s picking out the brown ones, savoring the red, blue and yellow. Never giving the milk chocolate a chance to melt in my hand but only in my mouth.

I need a hot shower. It just takes too much energy for this task. My body feels like it weighs 1000 pounds. At the rate I’m eating I may just get there before long.  I can hardly hold this head full of rocks up off the pillow. My legs drag as I walk to the bathroom, the only place I can carry myself, and only because I have to.

Everything I see around me is lifeless and gray. HD television offers the same old stuff; that stack of books can’t hold my interest, people irritate me. Conversations consist of me shaking my head, as if I’m listening to the mindless chatter that creeps in one ear and out the other. I spend a lot of time pretending to be the happy me.
 The me with the clean smell of Dove soap from a fresh shower. The me that likes a green salad with tomatoes, oranges, red cranberries and candied pecans. The me that loves conversation with friends and a good cup of fresh brewed Maxwell House coffee.  The me that longs for the feel of the pages of a crisp new book in my hands. The me that laughs out loud at the Cosby Show and Andy Griffith. The me that snuggles under the quilt that belonged to my mother and is warmed by the love of it. Where is that me?

Then I utter the words.

Help. Me. God.

In time the thick dark covering that hides me from the world is lifted.

In time.

And I wonder why I didn't ask sooner.

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