I feel so disconnected. Almost like I am drowning and can’t breathe I feel like I want to flail around and grab onto something else to keep me afloat.
I spent a chunk of the day with a new acquaintance/friend showing him Colma and seeing Penelope. (I love that movie and wish that was the world I live in.) I was on my best behavior of interacting and drawing out the other person and introducing them to the world around them. I dropped him off after the movie and since he is near where I live, it was moments before I was parking outside my place. There was an old man leaning on a car waiting. I waved to him as I got out of my car and he waved back. I went to talk to him. He is 93 and lives in the house across the street from me. He was waiting for his ride to go see some dance company that has been around since the depression. He told me about making his way as a black man in the south and how he got to where he is now with a house he built in Berkeley and another house where his wife lives. We talked about the prices house are selling for today and what he does with his days. His ride showed up and I told him it was a pleasure meeting him and talking with him. It really was. I would love to talk to him more.
Lately I have been very interested in the different experiences between being black and being white and what the point of view of someone like me would be if it was from a different race. This man really reminded me of both of my grandfathers in how he approached life and he had to deal with core racism. They type of racism that was about blacks not being as good as whites, instead of what I think I see today where it is about assumptions based on privilege, background and culture. I felt I could relate his experiences to something I am familiar with and understood.
When I headed over to my apartment complex, a woman was trying to juggle the gate and her bicycle which is a real pain with our gate. I offered to hold it for her and she responded favorably enough I told her the history of the gate. It is really lightweight and an easy gate to handle. But some people would close it with a bang and a resident complained. So the landlord put a spring attachment on it. It closed softly and when you needed it help open you slide this little ring over. But some people wouldn’t move the ring back and would leave the gate propped wide open. Others would try to close it but didn’t know how so they would end up forcing it and breaking the spring attachment. It got replace and lather, rinse, repeat. So then the landlord got a security company in to give us an intercom/phone system that would allow visitors to contact the resident to be let in the gate and they also “fixed” a few of the security holes, including the lightweight spring attachment. Now we have this industrial spring that forces the gate closed. When you try to get through it when both hands are full, it is rather difficult. With a bike it is a real pain because it catches on pedals and such. The gate feels like a heavy iron gate when it is a really well balance, well hung light gate. The woman thanked me for my help and for the info.
Then I went into my apartment and closed the door and started struggling. I had no one to talk to. I had no one to connect to. I felt completely cut off from everything. I wanted something. To bury myself into TV or a book or numb myself with sugar. I couldn’t face trying to call someone and have them not be home or not be able to talk to me. I didn’t have the energy to form another connection, only enough to take advantage of one that would cross my path. And I couldn’t stand not having something.
It was an amazing feeling. Once I don’t think I have allowed myself to really feel and explore before. Yes I have changed verb tenses in this because now I am feeling a little better. I think that is because I am writing something that I intend on posting to the internet and in a way that is a form of connection. I found something that could help me float. Now the disconnect doesn’t feel as sharp and I can move onto something else without feeling so desperate. Oh, I hate that feeling of disconnect. It is probably why I avoid connecting if I can, so I don’t have to feel anything when it ends. As I work on myself and my innards, I am finding that connection is so very important to me. And I am terrified of it.
I am tired and it is only evening. This being aware of yourself is exhausting work and somewhat painful. I just was to fade away and lose myself for awhile.