"I'm Not Crazy"

XXVII.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Charlie," the pediatrician said. "Good work today."

His name was Harold, and he'd told me to call him Doctor H, because that's what the children called him. He said it sounded almost like a super hero name. The girl next to me, Macey, who had been training me on all the facets of the front desk told me that they all made fun of him for it behind his back, but I kind of liked it. I liked the idea that kids felt safer under the care of a superhero.

It was my first day of work, and I'd spent the entire day acting a part. I was playing an adult. I was civilized and capable. I was personable to parents on the phone, and I was capable of giving kids high fives and candy suckers when they didn't cry during their immunizations. I gave them to the kids who cried as well. Crying was not a crime here.

"You did a really good job today," Macy told me.

Everybody in the pediatricians office had told me something similar. In response to all of them, I smiled, and nodded, and accepted the praise humbly. At 5 pm I grabbed my bag, said kindly goodbyes, and walked out with everyone while they all chatted about a job well done. I was a part of the team now, they said. It was my job well done too.

I walked away towards the metro train alone and I tried not to scream. It had been a going through the motions type of day. I took my instructions. I worked hard to remember my own name. I worked hard to pretend that I hadn't spent the past 24 hours prior in bed with a hangover that felt quite a bit like dying.

The bathtub had been only two days prior.

That morning after, I'd gone into the bathroom and I'd thrown up. Shortly after that I dumped all of my pills in the toilet. I'd dumped the anti depressants too. I'd flushed everything, and I'd watched them drain away, and then I'd laid on the bathroom floor and I'd wondered about a lot of different things all at the same time.

No answers had come to answer the wonderings. It had been a very long day.

But that was over and now I'd worked for a day. I'd moved on to the next thing. It was how I was programmed to function; always trucking forwards. 

I took longer than I ought to have to take myself home. I missed my first train almost on purpose, watching it pass by in a sickening slow motion. Then I circled the block in my own neighborhood, watching over my shoulders suspiciously as if I were undertaking the supremely important task of monitoring our community.

When I finally decided to approach my own porch, I was greeted by the sight of my elderly neighbor sitting in the chair by her door again. She was smiling to me as I came up the walk, and the expression on her face told me that she wasn't intending to let me pass quietly.

I should have greeted her myself, but I let her take the lead as usual.

"Charlie!" She called cheerily. "Are you in a hurry, or can I borrow your attention for a moment?"

I told myself to smile. It didn't work at first so I forced my lips to curl defiantly.

"Of course," I said, as if it were obvious. As if Virginia didn't have reason to caution herself when speaking to me. As if I never ignored her or yelled. Maybe she'd thought I had died two nights ago and this was an expression of her relief.

"Oh good!" She said, rising to stand near me at the rail of our connected porches. "You always look so busy, and I haven't seen you much since Christmas, so I haven't been able to give you this."

She was holding out a small paper bag in her outstretched hand. I hadn't seen it before. It was like she'd pulled it out of thin air. It was so neatly prepared that I immediately felt guilty for the way I'd been hiding so intentionally.