Lunacy Me, Now You Don't

She smelled like cold cream and rosewater, and I leaned into the smell rolling off of her from the bus seat ahead of me. Dressed in white head coverings, she and five other people, family members I presume, hopped off the bus heading to Sunday morning worship. They were glowing. My mind brought me back to earlier days of Catholic Mass, when I was encouraged to wear a lace veil, praising under raised ceilings that echoed in such a manner that it was hard to believe that the entire town couldn’t hear our chants and hymnal responses. I won’t speak to the hardships of growing up in a devout Christian world, rather to the elements that have left a hole behind when they went.  I’m currently rehearsing a show called Love Sick , to be performed at Theater J , which is located inside the Edlavitch Jewish Community Center of DC. In a neighborhood brimming with churches, Sunday makes for quite the walk to work. Yesterday was at a high of 95, feeling like 102, and folks had every w...

Today I found squash in my bra. Then I found a grain of rice in my hair. And no, it was not because I passed out in my food again. I left work and drove away from the house containing an eighteen-month-old boy who is discovering what emotional spikes are, and as I reached in my shirt and picked out a piece of buttercup squash (yes, “cup”, not “nut”...less common, very delish)..once I picked out a piece of buttercup squash off my chest, I couldn’t help but recollect my own journey with anger and button pushing. My younger brothers can attest to the fact that I’ve always been easily, mm, let’s say “provoked”. Or, triggered, because this is, after all, a blog where we talk mental health. As far back as I can remember, I experienced sudden spikes of emotion. Teenagers are used to this, because at sixteen years old, a girl’s testosterone levels are at the highest they’ll ever be. Around that age? What a wild damn ride. And generally, we all experience these throughout our lives bec...

“Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we should dance.” -unknown This quote is floofy as heck, but it resonated with me this morning as I compare the self of 5 years ago to the woman sitting here writing this. I’ve found a coffee roaster and cafe in Vienna, Virginia, because I’m like a hound dog and can sniff out local coffee holes from leagues away. It’s a special skill. I started a nannying job last week, a two-month gig where you work long hours and go hard until the next job crops up. It happens to be quite a commute away and I am not hating the sunrise scenes and podcast time in the car each day. But, man, am I exhausted. I am a fill-in for their “main” nanny, and it’s all consuming, with childcare as a portion of the duties. In two weeks I feel like I’ve become a part of the family, and I sing nursery rhymes in my sleep. No lie, I woke up this morning singing “three little kittens have lost their mittens, and they began to cry…”...I could do ...

Picture yourself as a kid, and you’ve experienced a really great weekend, like a family reunion, or something? All your cousins were there, everyone running around, laughing, and eating food off the grill. Maybe you were the family that hosted it that year, and finally the time comes for everyone to pack into their cars and drive back to their respective homes. Maybe it’s only a short drive away, but the last car pulls out of the drive and you get a feeling like a gut punch. You don’t understand the waves of emotion rolling over your tiny mind. You were just in heaven not three hours ago! Is it melancholy? Is it loneliness? Is it the first realization that all good things must come to an end? Maybe you cry, hug your mom, and wonder when the feeling of sadness will go away (give it 30 minutes and a VHS tape). You were surrounded not too long ago, and now the dust is settling and it’s just you and your immediate family again. Everything is quiet and you are left. You.  I...