Twenty-Two
When I get home from work, there’s a small twig – about six inches long and boasting a handful of leaves – shoved into the mesh of the screen door. In Greek (and some other European cultures), this is a calling card – somebody wants me to know that they’ve visited. Only one person’s ever done this – IDIOT FRIEND, albeit years ago, before he was IDIOT FRIEND (although, no doubt, he was still an idiot). His work occasionally takes him through the area, and he’s randomly dropped by in the past. One time, he did exactly this – snap a twig to prop in the screen door. Obviously, he’s…
Twenty
Back in the 1980s when I was just a teen, I had a lot of mental health issues before I even knew what they were. They were my normal – being agitated, or having unexplainable bouts of melancholy, or feeling a disconnect from everybody else. It wasn’t until they exploded into panic attacks that the public hospital psychiatrist was able to give me some muddy clarity. But the worst of those mental health issues, the meltdowns, came at important times developmentally – when I should’ve been making my way out into the world, I was dealing with anxiety, cluster panic attacks, and OCD; when friends were marrying and working steadily,…