In half an hour, I intend to begin the next leg of things.
I have sorted out, I think, where to find the taxi that will get me where I want to go. I think I am planning to go at around the right time.
I am going alone, but I am getting used to that.
So I think all will be fine.
But going anywhere seems to recall what it felt like to leave Nata’s room for the last time, touching her things for the last time, and knowing that after that I really was alone in the world and there was no one left who cared about me in any kind of genuine way. After that, I had no insulation from the pain and no protection from the horror and just nothing at all. No magic. No safety. Nothing.
There was also no one who understood the world I lived in or knew who I really was because of it.
Leaving any place seems to call that sense up again and so it is frankly terrifying. I have managed to make it easier on myself by breaking it into bits. I organized the bus back to Y-Town yesterday. I packed in the morning, and I am leaving here for a friend’s place on the way towards Y-Town in the late afternoon, which involves arranging a taxi. (More arrangements: more things I need to function through.)
And that helped.
I have learned a few tricks for dealing with the terror. One of them is this dealing with bits part—spreading out the reminders and the stresses so that they don’t reach an untenable level where I switch into Ghost and cannot speak.
The second one is taking on smaller stresses that I am likely to be successful at first. Then I begin to relax. I relocate my confidence, and I can go on speaking—which is, actually, the main thing.
So, yesterday, when I knew I could not manage to talk to a taxi driver to get to the bus station where I needed to buy a ticket, I did some shopping first. I went to the bank. I retrieved my pen from the office I left it in yesterday.
The third trick is to acknowledge in some way the part that is most helpful with doing these things, so that that part is the one closest to the surface.
Charlie can make arrangements. Charlie travels. Charlie is soft-spoken and polite, but completely assertive and unafraid.
Charlie likes Indian food. So that is what we had for lunch yesterday.
And this all seemed to work.
It used to seem to me that I could integrate everything I needed to integrate relatively quickly and the main thing was to work at that. Now, I am starting to realize that this may not be realistic. I may need to also accommodate how I am.
(As an aside, I don’t expect to have internet access again for another four days.)