The Mean Reds

“Listen…you know those days when you get the mean reds?” –Holly.
“The mean reds? You mean like the blues?” –Fred (Paul).

Holly Golightly

“No… the blues are because you’re getting fat or because it’s been raining too long. You’re just sad, that’s all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you’re afraid and you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?” –Holly.

I know all about the mean reds.

When I finally got home from work today, I walked in the door, tossed my oversized bag on a chair, went straight to my Dad’s office, leaned down to his chair and resting my head on his shoulder, snuggled a hug from him.

He wrapped his arms around me, rubbed my back and said,

“Awww… What,my GiGi, rough day?”

It has been nearly eight years since we’ve done anything comfortable like this.

For some reason his loving words sank deep and I walked away with a random witticism and hollow laugh, then, once out of sight, practically ran for the bathroom, where I closed the door, turned on the faucet, and cried. No sobs, nothing dramatic, but just a steady stream of tears running in rivulets down my face and me wiping them just as steadily away.

Work wasn’t that bad, really. I’ve had better and worse jobs (I guess) and things are fine as far as co-workers, hours and pay are concerned. I just got a promotion and they really like me. In fact, I don’t really know why I feel so bad today. It may be the pressing holiday hot on my heels, it may be the past, it could be any number of things, but I think I am repressing some feelings and am now brimming over with them without an obvious explanation.

Nothing felt right today. Although I was a good girl earlier this week, I broke down and ate holiday goodies like they were made of air. In total, I had half a loaf of zucchini bread, two pieces of German Chocolate Cake Roll, three pieces of chocolate candy, an Andes peppermint. That is so far. I think it was my mood encouraging my indulgence. I can kiss my work outs goodbye from the past few days. I just ate twice the calories I burned in just candy alone. I didn’t mention my breakfast or lunch. And I won’t.

My job is so unbelievably far from what my 14 year old self imagined my 25 year old self to be doing. This isn’t a dream being even close to realized, it is only a means to an end, and I let it drag me down today. I have many things to be thankful for, my family and friends to name a couple, but I can’t seem to drag my mind out of the doldrums to appreciate anything of the finer things in life.

Riding in the car with my mom today, I was struck by our vast differences and vaster distance, and heavy, oppressive loneliness filled my chest.

It wasn’t long ago that I was experiencing complete happiness riding in the car with my best friend and lover. I went from spending my life with supposed soul mate to surrounded by a family of strangers with a brief phone call made over a thousand miles away.

“Please come get me, Mom. I don’t care what I do or say, just come and get me.”

I  listened to the voice on the other end through a muffled tunnel of hurt and heartache, with my fingers turning white from being tightly clenched around the receiver.

“Yes, I know it is the right thing to do,… it is just killing me. Please, just come soon.”

I got off the phone, leaned my head against the wall and cried that day just the same way I did today, seven months later, in my parent’s bathroom.