Where’s That Shoe?

I wanted to post daily and use the daily prompts, but I’ve been a bit under the weather lately. Not sick, per se, just unhappy, stressed, you know the drill. Life stormed in when I was hoping for a slight breeze. Nothing’s quite going as I’d hoped this week, which brings me to today’s subject: Tell us about a time when everything actually turned out exactly as you’d hoped.

This was a while ago when my son was a toddler. It had been ages since I’d been out to do something I wanted to do and my family agreed to watch the boy so I could go out once. It’s been about the last time I’ve had that offer, but at the time it was so what I needed. I can’t recall how it came to my attention, but there was a vampire ball at the goth club in the city that I  had been aching to go to.

I was going to a ball.

For background, I spent my entire teenage life devouring Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles and reading as much Gothic literature as I could find with a vampire theme: Carmilla, The Vampyre by Polidori, Dracula, supposed true tales from history anthologies, short stories, you name it. It was my thing.

When the night came, I had managed to find a hair piece that was just what I needed to get my hair in to the style I was hoping for. I’ve never been able to do hair worth a damn and mine always falls, but this worked.  My dress was great, I managed to find a corset that fit, I had the boots, the makeup, and the will to get there. I set off on my own a little nervous to drive in the city. I figured that I’d never find the place and was amazed at how easy it was and not only that, for any of you familiar with San Francisco, I actually managed to find a parking space! Downtown! I was maybe a half block away.

Now, my shyness makes things impossible for me when I go places alone. I end up going and standing on my own like the Smiths’ song goes. I went in not quite knowing what to expect. I had my idea of going and finding a nice quiet corner where I could sit and watch people. I managed to find that and a drink, checked my bag and then wandered.

The second I stepped into the downstairs space I felt like I had suddenly landed on my home planet. Everyone was if not elegant, in something that I could admire. The lights were dim and cycled red and white, the dance floor was full, there were men in top hats and velvet coats, women in gowns, kids dressed like the frog brothers from The Lost Boys and a guy even dressed as Blade. I was an appreciative audience.

Everything that came on was a song that I knew and most I knew every word to. I walked down the stairs slowly with my gown in my hands and managed to get some male attention. My shyness undid me a bit, but I felt so at home there just watching people.

I met a woman who said I did the place justice with my demeanor and struck up a conversation. In the midst of it all, I had the perfect moment. The music suddenly changed tempo and everyone came out to the dance floor for a waltz. Women with their dresses twirling and the men with their coats flowing out behind them as they spun; it was my dream. The only thing better would have been if I’d had a partner to dance that waltz with.

It has been a wish of mine ever since that I will find someone willing to wear an outfit like that and waltz with me as my Dracula at the Vampire Ball. One day I may. That night, I had no idea, but the guy who would become my future best friend was in the crowd. I had no idea that a few weeks later I’d meet him and start a grand adventure. It was a beautiful beginning and a great night.

Days 4 and 5: Apocalypse Now

The friend I described losing yesterday once described me to someone as hating life. That’s not entirely accurate. I love life. I do, though I may not beam it every second. I love a million things about life, like a good thunderstorm, clean sheets after a bath, cheesecake, movies, tea…but on occasion, and I’m sure he couldn’t understand this, it gets to be all too much. The feelings overwhelm and the world turns to a cacophonous cloud of noise that makes my skin crawl…like right now.

That’s the reason I’m combining two questions into one post and writing them a day early. It’s a raw moment. I took a big downturn today and I thought that maybe being completely honest in this state might be helpful in some way to someone somewhere.

The questions respectively are: Have you ever attempted suicide and have you ever written a suicide note? I’ve decided to combine them because two posts on this subject would just be too much. As of now, I’m having an anxiety attack. Panic more like. I’ve had to stop a few times because my heart is pounding so hard I can hear it. I’m not sure if it’s the subject matter or the fact that I’m feeling badly again over the loss of people I’ve cared about. It truly feels like I have a big hole in my chest…but moving on…

There have been many times I’ve come very close to ending myself. Why do I admit that? Why talk about such a dark subject at all? Because I’ve managed to thankfully make it past them. When I had nowhere to go, no job, and a baby to feed I came closer than I ever have. I remember the utter hopelessness and isolation I felt. I felt completely worthless and overwhelmed. It was raining non stop for days. I remember just sitting in the car crying harder than I ever had and trying to decide whether to bring the baby inside the church and leave him so he’d have a chance. No notes. Not ever. It was always a private thing.

In the end I managed to talk myself out of that idea and conquer the overwhelming feelings. Like every time before it, I’m so thankful I did. So many joys I would never have known came in the years that followed.

I had one worse one, right before my breakdown. I was at work, once again feeling overwhelmed and undervalued…invisible. The only way I can truly describe it was despair. I felt heavy, pulled down and the room I was sitting in suddenly seemed darker than it had been. There was once again that feeling of having a hole in my chest but simultaneously a pain like being speared through the heart at the same time. I was ready to disappear. Everything was too much but one thought was enough to bring me out of it. My son. I thought about how I’d never see him or hold him again and how he’d never be able to understand. I survived that day too and again, I’m so lucky I did. Some days he’s the only thing I have to look forward to, but one reason is enough. He’s always been more than enough.

So now that I’m once again in pain and having a panic attack over the loss of a friend and someone I loved completely, I realize that having those anchors is vital. Whatever it is for you, hold on to it for dear life. There really will be something you’ll be glad you didn’t miss.