The Phone Call

I was at work when I was sent a message that I needed to call a certain someone. I was in the midst of dealing with a crucial situation but felt I had enough strength to handle the phone call too.

....and so it was, I punched in the numbers and reported to the one answering on the other end, that I was returning a call. She put me on hold. Oh lovely!

I truly thought I was deep into my new way of life, the new me, the strong and no turning back, nothing is going to stop me now lady I had become.

I was wrong.

I stood there alone in the staff room. My legs began to dance in nervousness as I listned to th voice on the phone. My eyes were focused on a stack of candle magazines displyed on the nearby table as I tried to distract or remove my mind from what I was being told. The conversation started off OK until the person I had been listening to raised their voice at me and demanded answers to questions I had responded to the day before. I thought it was clear. Was it that person had a need to vent and I had won the top choice award? Frankly I would prefer no award at all, I just want my life back. I knew I would not find it in the next few minutes. Not as long as the vomit was flowing through the phone in my direction. Was it intentional to upset me, to catch me off guard?

Then the "I'm sorry" came. The I'm sorry is ALWAYS followed by a "but". 'But I had a bad day'. 'But I don't feel well'. 'But the moon is on the rise'. It never really mattered what the reason. I had only wished the I'm sorry would be all I heard. It was enough. With the added blame sharing, the I'm sorry drifted out the door.

Tears were in my eyes. I fought them back as a staff member walked in the room. She mumbled about how delightful something she saw on the table was. I didn't care. Nothing mattered at that moment unless she was going to offer me a place for a melt down. Which is kinda sorta what happened as I walked through the work room and down the hall, passing staff and not really being aware of who they were. A dark shadow loomed, blocking life in me and from me. I noticed I was whipping my hand with my fingers. I never did like that nervous habit and was glad to see it gone. Now it is back.

I wasn't mad. I wasn't sad. I was scared. Scared that I was lost again and what if I can't find myself again.


I thought it was over. I thought I had made it. Maybe the fat lady hasn't sung her last song yet. I wish someone would call her on stage and get this over with once and for all.

As I didn't know what else to do, I made my way through the rest of the day somehow. Must be I have some inner auto pilot that kicked in. On my way home a vehicle pulled in front of my on the freeway. I recognized the license plate. It was the same person who had verbally assaulted me on the phone a few hours early. I turned my blinker on to take my exit. They turned their blinker on. Seems they were taking the same exit I was. I wondered if it were a coincidence. Gloom rode beside me as I took the long way to my destination. The person I was heading to meet who I knew would know the right words to say to help me find sanity was busy. I guess the Lord wants me to handle this one on my own.

It is going to be a long and lonely night.