I know I have mentioned mental illness before I just haven't exposed myself completely, yet. You think you can escape your mind, a mind in my case that is attached to every detail attached to every person and thing in my house. The mind is the center of you, not in placement but in focus, which I have lost. My brain is a bit divided at the moment. It's like I can't feel whole and what little of me that makes sense is trapped in the bathroom or the closet (and I say "or the closet" because we have like one closet) and I can't move freely through the rest of the house.
I am forced to venture out on a late Saturday afternoon, for food, a necessity which we have none of. My disheveled mind is already past the fading away time of the day. I am walking in shadows. My eyes that are leading me are literally blurred because of wearing a trial, more breathable, yet thicker pair of contacts I got from the eye doctor who I visited Thursday. I have been stretching out my contacts well past their two week wear when they begin to lose their ability to allow oxygen to my cornea. Blood vessels have been growing into my cornea to compensate for suffocation. I know this is a metaphor for some thing in my life but its full awakening hasn't come yet. I am making my way through the grocery store. Bread, chicken . . . As I step along the cooler doors searching for Fat Free Milk, I grab it and turn to place it in my cart when I find I have no cart to put it in. It is gone. Did I have a cart? Has my mind fully yelled retreat, retreat and decided that crossing enemy lines (the ice lined milk jug) was against its better judgement? I found it back in the warmer, bakery area, the cart, that is. Although the two, the warmer bakery department and the cooler department are bordering each other. The key might be to find the balance, to stand directly on the line. Can't be done though; you have to cross at some point.