And by that I mean that I've been perpetuating these ridiculous daydreams. They mostly involve my job situation, but not always... I imagine myself as an intern at the art theater downtown (I don't think they even have those, but this is daydream logic, so bear with me), I imagine myself writing scripts, I imagine myself in plays, I imagine myself going back to JBU in January.
My psychiatrist says that daydreams are the sign of an active mind.
I think they're a brand of masochism.
My friend Katie texted me about a week ago. "Hey Meredith, do you want to hang out over break? I'd love to see you!"
All this Christmas break hanging out with high school friends who are doing well in college is... humiliating? Infuriating? Making me want to get up, run around, scream, throw things?
But Katie. Katie is a friend from school. All of it. We go all the way back to Kindergarten. Our moms both worked at the school, so we were in with the other staff kids. Think Little Rascals with school uniforms. Like, plaid jumpers.
Life Rule #345: don't say no to your plaid jumper friends.
I decided that we should go to the local art museum (The Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center). I drove.
"Meredith, how are you doing? I feel like we haven't seen eachother in forever!"
"Well, I'm taking a gap year, living with my parents, working..."
"Really, why?"
(This is the part of the conversation where my counselor has encouraged me to say "Health reasons. How are you doing?")
"Well, I was diagnosed bipolar this summer. I thought I could take it, just throw some pills at it, you know, but I had this crazy manic episode at the beginning of September. I was psychotic. I spent ten days in the mental hospital... I tried to do school after that, but it just didn't work, so I came home."
"Wow. I'm so sorry."
We exited the neighborhood at this point.
She told me about her boyfriend, her twin sister's boyfriend, her sorority, her work on the event planning committee, what it's like to drive in Chicago, the terrible weather.
We arrived at the museum an hour and a half before it closed. Katie paid for my entrance fee.
The featured exhibit was carnival-inspired art (with distinct feminist undertones) by Pamela Joseph. I neglected to read her bio.
We entered the gallery. Color and craziness, freaky and fascinating. There was a paper-mache she-man cat that was lifting a leopard, a "museum of torture," a wheel of fortune that had pieces of a baby doll decorating the middle.
"This is weird. I feel like I could do some of this stuff... I want to get paid for throwing a bunch of random things together and calling it art."
"Hey, don't dog on modern art."
"Alien Fortune Teller" was an interactive piece. My favorite fortune teller is in the Penny Arcade in Manitou Springs, but the alien twist... nice job, Pamela.
"You are the master of your fate. Your future is cloudy, but you hold the power of decision. You will experience great success in your next endeavor."
Well, thank you, Alien Fortune Teller.
The exhibit repeated most, if not all, of its images in varying forms. She-man cat had a whole wall of sketches and a painted mesh banner.
We slipped in and out of Pamela Joseph's wild daydreams.
"So. Have you watched the 50th anniversary episode of Doctor Who?"
After I dropped Katie off at her house, I drove back downtown to go to the Electric Safari at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo. The Electric Safari is another annual CoSprings deal. Basically, droves of people come to walk around the zoo in the dark (and the cold) for half price admission. Also included, light displays. Some people bring their babies. Sometimes I think I'm going to be a very lazy parent.
It's also an annual old-guard church group event. I've known most of these people since I was a youth group rookie in fifth grade.
"My favorite places I went with YWAM (Youth With A Mission) were probably England, Ireland, Italy, and South Africa."
"I started my own film business. It's called Twelve Stones. I record the activities of different ministries around the world. God's doing amazing things, and people need to hear about them."
I stared at the light displays. A pink elephant shaking a tree, two bighorn sheep crashing into eachother.
At one point David, who is now a pole vaulter at the University of Nebraska Kearney, sat on a metal elephant head and sang to the crowds.
"Prince A-LI, marvelous he, Ali-a-BWA-BWA..."
This happened about four times.
My favorite exhibit, probably because it was inside, was the reptile house. The reptiles were in glass cages with colored sand and various pieces of pottery.
I leaned close to one of the snake cages. The snake wound its body around the decorative branch. There was a beautiful contrast: the red scales and the yellow sand. And I let the daydreams descend in force.
A theater, a manuscript, my hand held tightly.
The lengthy conversation that will never happen. That monologue I've practiced a hundred times in my bathroom mirror.
What I would have done, who I could have been, what I should have known.
"Sleepy?"
In a way.
"Yeah, I'm just tired."
I miss you.
ReplyDeleteI often feel fake around other people too. I hope we can overcome that together, and that you don't have to feel like you have to hide.
God bless you.