I Guess There's a First Time for Everything, Even if it's Showing Everyone Your Crown Jewels
Water is very cleansing, so much so that years ago people would strongly involve it in healing rituals; whenever people didn't have the knowledge about medicine that we do today. I was in the shower, and was enjoying the feeling of the water running down my skin; it was washing away the dirt I'd stored up from having a lazy Saturday. Now we have a scientific awareness we know that one thing it won't wash away- is disease.
I had a voice in my mind. Like anyone does, that's how you think right? But my voice was more than conversational. It spoke in the same manner that I thought, but the words it would use were not my own. It wasn't a constant presence, it asserted itself at random moments, and filled my mind with unwanted crap that I didn't ask for. Usually I tried to get rid of it by thinking over it or replying repeatedly. It had kind of slipped into my mind sometime in the past year, I don't know how and I can't remember when. All I know is that I deal with it on a daily basis. It used to keep me up at night and and Moo and Bo would have to talk to me though I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to have a problem. That scared me. No-one wants to be sick, especially not this almost-doctor. Disease really scared me, and worried me, and there isn't much we can do about it.
As I rubbed shampoo in my hair I thought of what it would be like to be bald, like Bo.
I'm warning you that what I'm about to write is horrible, and so are most of the things the voice said. I feel guilty even writing about it, it's not my fault and it wasn't me that thought it but I still feel guilty. I don't even want to write it, like I didn't want to think it, but it's what happened and I want you to know. So...
As I rubbed shampoo in my hair I thought of what it would be like to be bald, like Bo. The Baldie. Egghead. Mr Clean. At least you could be more original with your insults. It looks horrible though. Like an unharry potter. Or shiny. It's like he's trying to be a mirror but it's not working; you know skin is too bumpy to display a reflection. Ugh. Yep, a surface has be smooth in order to reflect light. We know that. Go away. Nope. Yep. Nope. Don't care. It feels really horrible when you touch it, doesn't it? No it doesn't. I don't care. Stop. Nah, I'm alright. I'm not. Why? Cause you won't shut up. Baldie baldie baldie baldie baldie. I have no problems with my boyfriend's appearance, thank you. Yep, you do. He's 23 and he's balding. I know you do. I'm in here with you and I know. Shut up. Just shut up! Nope. I always liked him for more than that, stop trying to make me think otherwise. I hate you. You can't because it's me. Go away go away go away go away. Ugh.
It's very tiring having constant thoughts bounce off each other, like a battle ground. And it's tiring having a voice in your head you have to answer to. I feel tired out from just thinking sometimes. Who else gets that? And I don't know where the bald thing started, the voice has certain obsessions; recurring topics and that's just one of them.
Continuing my shower, I intervened by going over medicine in my head and tried to push those horrible thoughts away. They came like little bursts however, but I carried on with my revision.
Interrupting my thought a few minutes later, I heard the cleaner of our apartments knocking on the door. Musichetta was out working, she had a part time job at a shop to help pay and Bo was already out to the meeting with the Amis that I was going to whenever I was finished showering. So the knock went unanswered.
I felt guilty, the cleaner was a lovely lady, and I felt like I should maybe get out and answer the door, but I wasn't done yet and it was cold out there and my head was sore.
Instead my mind decided to entertain me with disgusting explicit pictures of her without any clothes on. Wonderful. Just think about it. No thanks, she's an old woman! The image was burned into my head. I tried to think of Musichetta instead. I really love my mind.
I just feel like I want to jump out of it sometimes out of the annoying conversational argument that often filled it, and the disgusting images, and the insulting of my friends and the guilt and discomfort of what I was experiencing. But you can't jump out of your mind. It's there because it's who you are really, your thoughts, and there's no way to leave it. I walked out of the shower feeling frustrated and my head was still sore.
Maybe I rubbed my head too vigorously with a certain amount of hatred for it as I dried my hair with a towel. My eyes felt bleary for a minute, and I had to sit down. One thing I was looking forward to was seeing everyone again. We were working on ways to raise money to go out on another trip and that was something I was really looking forward to.
On the way into my room I felt really uncomfortable but I focused on getting out as soon as I could. I looked at the photo on our bedroom door, we were all naked in it and I wanted to take time to smile at the memory but I had to rush in to get a scarf. I had to get a scarf.
I opened the top drawer with haste, getting frustrated at the heavy wooden material that made that even harder and more time consuming. I opened the drawer to find a pile of scarfs tangled up like a giant spider. Moo always told me to keep my drawers clean. I needed a scarf though, so I took it apart with vigour. There were so many and I needed one scarf and I had to go. I kept on thinking about what one, what colour. I needed a scarf and I had to go.
I took one apart- nope not that one. One was red, another spotted, and one was huge and bulky like a snake. The colours and shapes danced in front of my eyes. Red. Spotted. Striped. One was too bulky, another very fancy. They were red spotted and bulky and striped and red aswell red red red I red don't spotted know striped what bulky I'm red talking red blue spotted .Spotted. . red. . streipded bluenad .rblue?b-l-e-u-b-u-e-l-e-u-b-l-s-b-l-r-e-d. they werea dancing infroint of me limered and blye nad spottednad there wredere sspootedo … .uelbu.e….blue!
S.. .e.d r,ed?
I grabbed one in front of my eyes, left quickly and didn't think about it again. It felt weird though everything was crashing down on me at once. I ignored it- I could survive this.
Ugh no, everyone was looking at me. They knew. FLIP! They knew about the voices in my head. I always knew I had my thoughts printed on my forehead. That's what people said about me. You could practically see into my brain, like my head was made of glass. I didn't mind before. And now everyone knew. I wanted to protest- I didn't fantasise about an old woman this morning! That was not me, I didn't choose that, I wouldn't have even thought that if I could help it. I think I just made a noise, but luckily the café was near. I went quickly to the Musain, quickening my pace the further I went.
I felt so relieved whenever I entered the Musain building. It was so warm. I couldn't wait to be in my friend's presence. I knew they wouldn't mind my thoughts. They would understand my lack of control. I knew Bo wouldn't mind what I said if I was brave enough to tell him, felt so glad to be in our relationship.
My heart hurt whenever I went up the stairs to find a room of my friends whose heads all took their turns to look at me. A few of them looked over and turned away straight away. Their laughter died down into silence. It sent a chill up my spine. They all knew and probably hated me because of it.
It was Bo who grabbed my shoulders, the lines on his face that had come from smiling so much were visible but not the smile that made them deeper. His eyes weren't looking into mine but over my shoulder. I looked at his bald head and watched the back ground change behind him as he brought me over into the corner. He took off his top in front of me and I pulled up my arms as he put it over me. Ah. I wasn't wearing any clothes. A good start to todays' meeting.
