Day 9: Glimpse of heaven
On day 9, I felt myself wake up slightly before 5, and when my alarm went off, I felt relief and excitement!
I popped out of bed, no resistance. I wanted to get up. What?
It’s still early. This is still probably novelty talking.
But hey, I know that’s who I am… and I’m supposed to work with my ADHD, not against it, right? So I’m making novelty work for me; maybe I just spend my life blogging new self-help books whenever my brain gets bored with the previous one?
Anyway.
My day 9 dilemma: do I go to the 12 PM synagogue staff meeting?
The 12 PM staff meeting dilemma plagues me every Wednesday. It was the subject of my previous day’s email undermining A; I replied all to A’s email saying he wanted to have a staff meeting with an email saying in essence “I didn’t think there was a staff meeting this week, and probably can’t go.”
A wants me to go to these meetings for A’s sake and because he thinks it would long-term benefit me too—though one of the issues is that the “long term” for me is completely up in the air. But A also knows how hard these meetings are for me and what I’ve tried to explain to him is that there’s a trade off. If I use up my social energy on the staff meeting, there’s less left for choir rehearsal and for the bimah
I feel like I’ve tried everything and none of it works. I’ve tried attending the meetings and behaving myself. One time I used a breathing app the whole time to keep myself from interrupting and blurting annoying things that sound condescending. I felt so successful! But everybody noticed I wasn’t myself apparently; after the meeting, the synagogue’s executive director asked A if I was ok. I’ve tried not going but submitting work in advance: one time I said I couldn’t make it and instead inserted my notes into the agenda document. But the staff (we will call them W, X, and Y) felt attacked by my notes and tried to avoid discussing them while I wasn’t there. A said he made headway in that meeting, but it doesn’t get me anywhere with W, X, and Y feeling threatened by me. I’ve tried going and not behaving myself: I wound up saying things such as “this is why I am on a campaign to assassinate jotforms.” I’ve tried not going and not submitting work in advance: that time I got a series of emails after the meeting that led to me spiraling and leading to the rift with A in the first place.
In other words, the synagogue staff meetings are what the techie lingo calls a “blocker.” They are lose-lose-lose. They make me feel like a complete asshole and failure as a human. They deplete my energy whether or not I attend them. They lead to more disconnection and bad feelings between me and the staff.
At about 10 AM yesterday – still feeling generally well regulated and accomplished after my morning routine, I remembered that my car registration had expired on my birthday in July. I learned of this because my babysitter had gotten pulled over and let off with a warning a few days ago. I needed her to drive again today, so I must get that done. I logged onto the online renewal site, which rejected me because I needed an emissions certificate.
And like that, the decision to skip the staff meeting was made. I shot off a quick email apologizing that I couldn’t get to the meeting in time and off I went to the nearest emissions place.
I live within a few blocks of multiple raggedy auto establishments… 24-hour tire places and such, including an emissions place (also the place where my husband rented a U-Haul to get stuff from his mother’s house when she moved out of it recently). I usually avoid these places because they feel uncertain to me; I’d rather pay more to go to the dealer or the thing that looks and feels most like the dealer. But at the moment the concept of accomplishing this errand within half a mile of my house was irresistible. So off I went, driving my little 2014 Prius up a narrow alley into someone’s old and messy garage and potentially a good place to hide murder victims. But this was by far the most efficient path to an emissions certificate —> registration sticker —> not asking my babysitter to break the law, so I felt confident as I opened my car door to alert the staff to my presence. A cheerful woman emerged from who knows where and took care of it. I felt grounded and calm, which further boosted my confidence as I do not generally enjoy interacting with strangers. (I live in perpetual envy of people who can make fast friends in any setting, a la Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Coolidge in Legally Blonde.)
My “maintenance required soon” light was on; I was on a roll and motivated to knock out all the car things. I headed to the “10 minute oil change” driveup place across the street. The line was long. I asked the guy if I could leave the car while I walked to Kroger to use the machine to get my updated registration sticker.
I took a walk to the Kroger, about 15 minutes. The air was lovely pre-fall, more warm than cool but just slightly so. I basked in the euphoria of feeling on top. I was getting some light exercise while on the way to do an annoying dreaded errand, leaving my car was in line for another annoying dreaded errand. I would normally be drawn to Scrubs or some other mind candy show for a walk like this, but today—again perhaps because of the novelty of my 5AMclub momentum—I tripled down on wellness. I turned on Dr. Chatterjee’s episode with the author of The Body Keeps the Score and listened through the walk, back to the oil change place, watching my car’s little spa day.
More dialogue on trauma, more clear messages that my shit is textbook unresolved trauma. My pain is not special.
Dammit.
But it’s 12:14 now, and the staff meeting is in progress. And I’m not there. And I’m not preparing for rehearsal or editing the Yom Kippur powerpoints or doing the long list of other things that must get done before Kol Nidre or not at all.
And I still feel okay. Grounded. Pleasant. Not worried I’m going to mess up the interaction with the oil change guys.
My general life experience is one of being underwater; if at some point in time I am not underwater I become paralyzed and procrastinate until the sensation of drowning triggers my survival instinct. I frantically swim to the surface. Others observe and marvel at my superhuman ability to accomplish so much. I boggle at their reaction to my death rattle.
Heaven, as it turns out, is basic vehicle maintenance.