One
There's no gravity. That's the only thought going through my mind as I sit on my bed and watch the men and women going through all of my belongings. All of the things I've accumulated through my life. They're just packing them away with terrifying efficiency. My contacts are itching, sliding around the tops of my eyes only just out of sync with my flesh. I've been crying too much. I never wanted to go back there but I have no choice anymore. They expect me to be at the house by 7 tomorrow night. The moving company will come later. There's no reason for me to be here any longer. I grab my duffel bag and walk to the front door. I won't look back. I can't.
The cool air outside helps to clear away the fog still shrouding my brain, and I pause on the front step to just breathe it in. My eye drops are in my front jeans pocket, and with the liquid comes physical as well as emotional relief. Even that simple act brings the familiarity and comfort I'm craving now. My aunt is dead. The one person left in my family, just gone. The woman who raised me had been lain to the earth outside my hometown just three days before, and I hadn't been invited to the funeral. "And then there was one," I mutter. I steel myself, holding my head high as I trod down the steps to the driveway. The journey will take two days, and I'm ready.
I think of everything and nothing during the first day driving to my hometown. My thoughts are even more scattered than usual, which is saying something. I cycle through music, my favorite movies playing on my iPad, and nothing at all. Much of the drive is through the desert, and there's nothing really to distract my inner monologue. I try not to think of her, and sometimes I'm successful. I'm grateful that night for my longstanding issues with insomnia because I have my sleeping pills to help me rest. Without those pills, I would have no rest for days. There's one to help me fall asleep, and one to help keep away the nightmares. As I swallow them down I briefly contemplate taking a few more of each before settling on my stomach into the cold hotel sheets and burying my face beneath my arms. The darkness is poison that seeps my energy as I lie there blinking, staring into nothing. Get yourself together, I think. Just one step at a time. This feeling won't last forever, and if I work through it now it won't cause more pain in the future. My eyes close, and I embrace the dark.
The next morning I feel somewhat better. I didn't sleep deeply, but at least I slept. I only partially blame the air temperature for this, as I have an aversion to sleeping in a warm room. I should've brought my travel fan, but I hadn't thought about it and it's much too late now. I'm in no mood to be around people yet (or ever, really) so I skip the hotel breakfast and opt to go through a drive thru instead. However, with my heightened mood comes the anxiety, and I still have hours to drive. My brain fires faster and faster telling me all the awful things that are happening now, now, now, and there's nothing I can do about it. That person can see me through my windshield, they can see me freaking out. They know I'm an awful person. They're judging me. She looked me in the eyes she knows everything about me now get out get out get out. I'm handed my food and I quickly drive to the other side of the building to park for a minute. I have a pill for this too, and I take it. It's 50 degrees outside and I'm sweating through my t-shirt. I put my hair in a ponytail as my vision is narrowing and try to breathe through the panic. Nobody is judging you, I tell myself. Nobody cares what you're doing right now. My body won't start getting the message for another 10 minutes or so, but repeating those words is helping my higher functioning at least. I have gps already set up for the day and so I pull out of the parking lot and start sipping my water. Panic makes me thirsty.
