Wednesday 20 September 2000 10:18 I came home last night to find my house full of cops. That was around one ayem. And the worst part was, this seemed to be the high point of the day... The day started in an ordinary way: a trip to the emeregency room. When I woke up, I discovered that during the night my lips and face had been transformed into a cartoon caricature of collagen injections gone awry— I looked like a 'Toon out of Roger Rabbit. Naturally, my mom's doctor couldn't see me, so I had to head for the ER... They were all very nice. I drew Dr. Quinn— Medicine Man— and he gave me some medicine for "contact dermatitis." None of us could figure out what had caused it, and as the doctor pointed out, we'd probably never find out— unless it happened again. Great. I took my medicine and went home wondering if I looked too ridiculous to go to work— or t'ai chi, for that matter... After I showered, the swelling had begun to subside, and I decided that I could pass for human instead of 'Toon, so I went to work. But I was having a hard time concentrating, and it seemed like my brain wasn't functioning. And Uncle Tom was in the hospital having a triple bypass and we hadn't heard anything except that it had been delayed, and every time the private line rang Sandra would go all tense because it might be about her dad... I knew there were things I ought to do, but I just couldn't think of what they were. I left work a little early for a Tuesday... I had supper at Ma's and filled her in on the ER visit, and then we went to t'ai chi... T'ai chi was awful. Something was wrong. Usually, there's a feeling of "plugging in." We pitch in to set up the room, move tables, chairs, open the shutters, while the instructor gets set up, and then we all warm up a bit, and those little rituals make the connection and we smile at each other and... it's real, that connection... But tonight I got there late, and I opened the shutters, as I always do as my part of the ritual, and everyone else was warming up, and I started to... No connection... My instructor was creaking— his joints cracked quite loudly at when we began and he wasn't smiling as if it reached his heart, and... Anyway, he seemed to have shut down, to have turned us— me, off. There didn't seem to be a lick of good chi in that whole roomful of people. And I felt terribly lost and disconnected... We practiced, but— it wasn't deadly, mind you. People were talking and there was some joking going on, and some mild laughs, as usual... But there was one joke I couldn't appreciate. The instructor reminded everyone to smile, and someone else quipped, "But don't laugh;" and someone else then added, "Yeah, it blocks the chi." Well, that made me feel horrible— and for the life of me, I can't remember if it was the instuctor who said that or not. I only know I felt the remark had been pointed at me. See, I laugh. A lot. (And probably too loudly.) That's one of the reasons I like the lessons so much. I get to smile and laugh. But, I'd never suspected that was a bad thing... I didn't know I was doing something wrong... And the new music sounded very melancholy... it was a very bad day... The lesson seemed to end abruptly, and by the time Ma and I got back to her house the thunderstorms had set in. We had a message on the machine that Uncle Tom had made it through with flying colors, and that was good. Very good. I set out for home in the rain... It was still early and my heart was feeling quite heavy. The demons were still after me. (The house cleaning of the past few days had stirred up very bad things. Phantoms all, but gut-wrenching nonetheless.) And I didn't want to sit in the dark feeling sorry for myself, so I called a couple of friends. It was Denny who got to the heart of the matter... All the hurts came pouring out of me. All the fears. Denny made me name the demons chasing me. And face them, too. And while we talked the thunderstorms got worse, and about the time I was bottoming out, the thunderstorm got so bad on Denny's end that he felt he should hang up. I'd just been telling him how hopeless everything seemed, and how I didn't think I could face that feeling again, but Denny really is afraid of being struck by lightning while on the phone, so I said, "No problem; talk to you later," and hung up... Then Ma called and asked me to bring over a trashbag. Wednesday is trash day, and she knows I don't mind walking in the rain. I took a trashbag and went to Ma's... Ma was surprised that t'ai chi hadn't made me feel better. But she said that the lesson seemed flat to her, too. But, not being caught up in ther own troubles, Ma wondered if maybe the instructor was having tough time just getting through the lesson himself. After all, he was creaking something awful and he said something about arthritis, too, and the damp, and... Lost in my own miserable disconnected self and dwelling on my terrible, horrible, rotten, no good day, it had never occurred to me that someone else may have felt even worse. And I had failed to do anything about it. Selfish, selfish, selfish. It was my own fault. I hadn't given anything of myself. No wonder nobody wanted to connect with me tonight... I sat talking to Ma for a long time. Ma said not to worry, evrybody has bad days. And they hadn't known about mine, either... I left about one ayem... And there were three town cruisers parked in front of my house, and someone was out on the back porch with flashlight. All I could think was that there had been a break-in and the cops had seen someone in my house... But that wasn't it. It was Denny. My friend Denny has what you might call a Dramatic Streak. It's about as broad and as long as the Mississippi. After the thunderstorm had passed, Denny had tried to call me back, and he hadn't gotten any answer. Thirteen times. And, being Denny, and being prone to drama, and as we had been talking about Very Bad Things (I had mentioned that I thought everyone should chip in to have me put down for my birthday), he decided that... well, he decided that someone should check on me. Denny doesn't have a car. So he called the cops. The police were very nice. All three of them. They said they were glad to find that I was in good spirits— and they apologized for having to go through the house— they told me they had gone through the back screen door and I blurted out, "Oh, you didn't! I just fixed that!" but I was laughing from the heart now, and they gathered that I wasn't angry— or suicidal. I thanked them and said good night. And then I called Denny... Denny felt a little foolish when he found out I had been at my mom's. But Oh! It was funny!. A houseful of cops! Every cop in town that didn't have anything to do was out checking on me. Because I have a friend who loves me enough to make a fool of himself. Because I am important to someone... I laughed until I cried. Denny laughed, too... And I thanked him for being my friend, and for calling the cops, and I went to bed, still laughing... And I'll tell you something: laughing doesn't screw up the flow of chi. Au contraire, mon frer! It keeps it flowing clear, same as tears. They clear all the blockages, laughter and tears... Human things those... Being human. Caring about each other. Caring about others more than you care about yourself... It's about being aware of others... about making the connection to them... about being "soong" enough so that you can remain aware and caring and be there for each other... As I fell asleep, I wished I was better at it, about caring, about being there for others, about giving more of myself... and I resolved to keep working on it... Thus ended my terrible, horrible, no good, rotten day.   Copyright © 2000 New Moon Please feel free to comment at: The Madwoman's Message Board