Float On

Part 1

I desperately tried to figure out a way to get rid of them. I stayed locked in my room for days with thick blankets over the windows to keep out all of the light, taking sleeping pills to try to force myself to sleep until they left. I got prescription anti-anxiety pills from a friend thinking that maybe it was stress. As a last ditch effort, I drank until I couldn't even function. Nothing. The words didn't even waver.

Leaving the boxes stacked by the front door, I sit back down on the couch again with my laptop. I try to continue writing my blog, but tears are blurring my vision. I swipe at them uselessly before I give in and just let myself cry. With my head in my hands, the sound of sobbing fills the apartment. I want so badly to try and learn how to exist out in the world, even if it does include these floating words and accusations. In the end, the words won't kill me, but the loneliness and depression will. That is the only thing I've managed to figure out in all of this mess. A counselor or psychiatrist is out of the question. I'm not sure what they do with people who claim to see words that may or may not mean something floating over everyone's head, but I'm fairly certain it involves a straight jacket and massive amounts of medication. After a few minutes, the crying has slowed down to just sniffles and a few gasps for air and I wipe the remaining tears away with the sleeves of my black hoodie.

Starved for companionship, I've become religious about replying to comments on my blog and YouTube accounts. I mostly do reviews and updates on anime in addition to some of my own artwork. YouTube is mostly for drawing tutorials and occasional vlogging. It's not like I have a ton of followers, but it's enough that I can fill my days with random chatting and emails. There are a few people I talk to on a daily basis which gives a small but much needed amount of normalcy to my screwed up existence. Something that is a bit of a blessing is that people on TV or online videos don't have the words above their heads, even if they are on a live feed. I'm curious if it is the same for Skype, but I don't have anyone to test that out on.

Restless and hungry, I wander into the kitchen, grabbing the largest package on the way. I cut through the tape and start searching through the various boxes and canned goods. Pulling a fresh loaf of bread out of the box, I grab cheese and butter out of the refrigerator and proceed to make a grilled cheese sandwich. One side ends up a little overdone, but considering how hungry I am, it's close enough. I tuck a can of soda into the front pocket of my hoodie and bring my sandwich and iPad over to the balcony door, opening it and sliding out to sit on my lone patio chair. The sun has almost set and the long shadows darken the street and sidewalk enough so that I can somewhat comfortably sit outside. I let my vision go blurry, taking care not to let it focus on anything except for my sandwich, drink, and the sky. My dinner goes down almost too quickly and I'm still hungry, but unwilling to give up my spot to find anything else to eat. My eyes close and I listen to the cacophony of surrounding city sounds as they blend and turn into a bland white noise, which calms my anxiety of being outside. This balcony in the evenings and at night is my happy place, but it also reminds me of the life I used to have, filled with friends and just the average everyday outings that everyone takes for granted.

Completely relaxed, a rare event, I remain unmoving with my eyes shut for long enough that when I finally do open them, dusk has passed and night has fallen. This is my favorite part of the day. All around me, the London street has come to life with bright, colorful lights. It's the one time that I can feel even remotely normal. I shift to the edge of my chair and gaze over the balcony railing. The crowd has thinned out, but people are still coming and going from the coffee shop and adjacent restaurant across the street. The restaurant stays open until 11 pm, but the coffee shop is open 24 hours. I couldn't figure out how it could do enough business to justify staying open all night, but a week long bout of insomnia prompted me to observe the shop overnight and apparently the nearby college has more than enough students to keep the doors open. I can still see words bobbing around with the people they belong to, but the darkness masks them somewhat and makes them hard to read.

I sigh and look down at the streets below, watching the people walk and go about their evening without even realizing I'm here. Between the darkness and the distance between myself and the crowd, I can still see glimpses of the words, but with only a few popping out distinctly.

"family"

"dessert"

"vacation"

"sadness"

"France"

"love"

Without the context of other words around them, they are just innocent and meaningless bits and pieces of text. If it were benign like this all the time, this peculiar talent of mine would be completely tolerable.

I'm not going to be like this forever. I need to figure out a way off of this balcony and out of these four walls before my mental health deteriorated any further. Step by step, regardless of the persistent floating words, I would get my life back. Right now, my plan is focused on getting myself into that coffee shop.

Each night, I spend hours staring across the street at it. From my angle, I can see the dark stone gray paint on the inside walls and comfortable looking furniture, making the interior look tranquil and safe. During the day, the large volume of customers would be too much for me to handle, but a late evening or middle of the night visit is a much more realistic goal. I've been observing the crowd patterns for two weeks now, and I think I have it figured out. Between 8 and 9 pm, the number of customers drops off considerably and it stays that way until around 1:45 am when the bars close and people pile in again for a late night coffee or snack. The slowest day of the week is Tuesday, which is today.

I've been putting it off, but tonight is the night. If I can manage to get out of my building and across the street sometime around 10 pm, I should be able to navigate the shop and ordering process without incident. By my calculations, the entire round trip should only take about 15 minutes. I double check the time and decide to leave here at 9:45, which is still an hour away, so I pick up my iPad and start making a few sketches to keep my mind off of the seemingly monumental adventure ahead of me.