Raging undone

Well I can honestly say that the start to my day was not a good one. sure I could chalk it up to the fever, chills, sweats and general miserable couple hours of sleep, but no. When I finally found myself drifting off into some semblance of sleep my cell phone rings. Most people do not call me before 8, unless some shit has hit the fan, or something has died. In fact, I am very programmed to actually wake up if my phone rings figuring there is some issue. I did not however find myself all that alert as I listened to Beatrice. I know she was talking about the hospital. It was not a question, it was a very direct you need to go and it really isn’t up for discussion. I was so fucking exhausted I could not quite grasp what she was saying. I knew I was seeing her in a couple of hours, and left it at that. But it was done. I was awake, shivering and trying to piece together the previous evening. I remembered being extremely disconnected, and I knew I was standing in my kitchen at 2AM having a glass of wine. I could not recall any suicidal thoughts. what the fuck. I got out of bed and headed down for a much-needed cup of coffee to clear my head. Unfortunately, I was raging by the time I could pour a cup. So there I stood in my kitchen ranting in non stop fiery sentences at my poor perplexed partner. “I’m not Fucking going, there is no fucking way they are getting me to agree to this. they can’t make me.” and on and on and on. This went on for quite a while, in fact I was still bitching when I was dumping feed for the horses. My partner wasn’t even in the barn and I am carrying on to the wheelbarrow and pitchfork. Seriously, bitching at inanimate objects. I was watching the minutes tick off the clock. By the time I got to session I was bordering on enraged. Some sensible part of my brain told me to check it, or it would only give them ammo to send me back. Yelling incoherently at Beatrice was probably not the best plan, though that is all I wanted to do. I didn’t care if I made any sense. I just wanted to make myself heard. I just wasn’t really sure where to go from there. Her door was open, and I had to go in. Instead of having an all out fit, I settled into this cold distant place. I was not disconnected, yet I was trying to figure out where I was. I reeled myself back in a bit and focused back on the anger. I really couldn’t tell you what I said or didn’t say, though I do remember showing a degree of anger I don’t think I have ever showed her. I kept feeling like it was some ploy to get me to react, to get me retethered to the here and now with that anger. But she assured me it wasn’t it. I let it go, but quickly sensed this trap. But I couldn’t reconcile that with these people I knew. My mind was just playing tricks on me. But I just couldn’t get past that. I had this sense that it didn’t matter what I said, that they’d lock me up anyway. I was feeling trapped and cornered. Beatrice was texting to Virgil. My gaze found some spot far off, I felt the stillness. I was leaving, my mind finding its safe place. I let it go, but knew it wasn’t okay. I could not leave, not with her sitting there. I pulled back my gaze to the window panes. Tracing each rectangle with the raised trim pieces brought be closer. By the time she cleared her throat I was back to angry and present. I could not let it be without her knowing I would not be forced. I knew I had to commit, and I even though I was angry I was understanding the only way to walk out her door was to agree. I was fine with that because I knew I was not a threat. Not to her and not to myself. I know that. Even if I am angry or disconnected, I know that. But the question remained what would Virgil say, was she really going to try to commit me without my consent. My mind was caught in this furious hot place. I left Beatrice. I sent a text to Virgil letting her know a piece of my mind. As I drove home I sensed a more connected calm shift. Sure, I was still angry, but I had left that searing hateful place I had been not ten minutes earlier. Virgil called. I don’t know if it is all the years, or if it is her, or what, but she has this way of making herself quite clear. Not in an abrupt harsh way, but not in a warm fuzzy way either. But it is a way I know, and it makes sense to me. My head just focuses when she gets that tone to her voice. It’ll sound like a terribly analogy, but it is quite like when training a dog. Yelling doesn’t work, and eventually they just tune you out. But speaking too softly may not get heard. Every one has a tone of voice they immediately respond to. Clearly I am not a dog, but it is the only analogy I can attempt to make sense of it. It is so odd but it is like I can’t help but pay complete attention, but it goes beyond that, I trust her. So today I found myself stopped in a parking lot listening carefully. Very carefully. This woman who not 15 minutes earlier I was convinced was going to coerce me, was now talking to me. and I knew without a doubt she was not going to ever coerce me, harm me, force me ever. She did not even have to say that, so why than had I been so convinced? How could my faith have wavered so? What the fuck is going on in my head? She wouldn’t hurt me, nor would Beatrice. So why than was I so convinced? so enraged? so quick to dismiss all I knew? I don’t understand that. I heard her voice and it instantly shifted all that nonsense racing in my mind. That quick. I felt bad for being so easily lead astray. If there is one thing I know in this chaotic world it is Virgil. I sat there and listened. I knew she was right, she of all people knows me so well. I was lost until she shed light on where I was at.
I’m just not sure why I am so out of sorts. So quickly shifted from one place to another, alternating with this disconnected state. None of it makes any sense to me. How can my thoughts be so disorganized, and way off base? I’m just confused. I just can’t find my footing. But I’m not trying to be difficult, or nasty. I’m just not quite sure why I reacted that way, or why I had such doubt. I’m left shaking my head.

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