I got really sad coming back from vacation. It was unexpected since I previously had experienced joy returning back to NY…until now. Coming back home this time really made me sad.
I dreaded coming back to a joyless apartment where everything is stark and bare. Shades of greys and blues lacking in warmth and happiness. I feel dampened in this pseudo-calmness mixed with sadness accentuated by the lackluster interior design in the form of a grey couch atop of dirty cloud patterned-stained blue carpet. I spot a long black snake (that is what Adam calls my long strands of black hair) on the bare hard wood floor and I quickly pick it up and bee line towards the trash to throw it away. Oh no, I spot another one. Looking around I am constantly haunted by the idea of Adam spotting more and being disapproving and bringing up how much I shed. There is nothing on the counters, nothing can be seen. Nothing can be exposed. Everything has to be hidden, pur away, away from view, as if the existence of objects left out can cause anxiety, disgust and stress. Open the cabinets to get the soap and do not forget to wipe the water drops off the hard cold marble that adorns the kitchen and the bathroom. Pickup, surveillance, open, close, wipe, rearrange, just to do it all again.
I dread the constant picking up, surveillance, opening and closing, the ritualistic wiping and endless rearranging. I would have known this about the new me if it were not pointed out by my dear friend Becky who stayed over last night. She pointed out the new me is always rearranging, cleaning, wiping, folding, picking up after everything. Where did this vivian come from. This one who is always on edge cleaning? Can you just be vivian? Funny thing is I have since forgotten how to be me. Forgotten how to just let things be as they are. Becky had to point out the obvious freakish observations that I have since been accustomed to. Lined up shoes that use to freak me out now seem commonplace. Bare counters and bare walls seem the norm. But all that just makes me sad.