Place Them In A Box Until A Quieter Time

Friday was a bad day. It wasn’t bad in the way that days are normally bad in that many bad things happened because nothing went wrong. It was a mentally bad day. My brain was in some sort of negative fog and I couldn’t seem to escape from it so as I was driving home I started making phone calls in an attempt to distract myself from my thoughts. Unfortunately no one answered. I made five calls and still had no one to talk to so faced with the reality that I was on my own I dialed up the volume on the radio and sped down the interstate towards home.

For about 5 minutes.

The dreaded summer-Friday-afternoon-heading-towards-Wisconsin traffic jam quickly put the kabosh on my Steve McQueen moment. As it was also raining everyone was hitting their brakes much sooner and more often than normal resulting in what appeared to be an endless squiggle of vehicles stretched out ahead of me. As we snaked along I gazed into the cars of my fellow jam-mates looking for someone interesting to steal my thoughts but I was surrounded by minivans carrying men and woman who were doing nothing more than talking on their cell phones or staring straight ahead. I started analyzing the cracks in the cement. Then I cracked.

I screamed as loud and as long as I could until my throat started to scratch and burn with fire scorching in each fissure and my lungs stung from the effort of forcing out every last wisp of breath within them. It was like all my rage and anger and frustration and pain had turned into a frantic beast that had been restrained too long in my chest and it all just roared out. No one noticed. No one turned to look at me because no one heard me. I was sitting in my car on the expressway surrounded by thousands of people and I was invisible. I wanted to cry and I wanted to laugh but mostly I wanted to be seen.

Even as I continued inching forward though the drizzling raindrops I was overcome with the urge to pull my car over onto the shoulder. I wanted to stop driving, to get out of my car, sit on the concrete median and let the rest of the world pass me by. I wondered if people would notice me sitting there in the rain for no reason at all. If I stood out there in the middle of the highway and started talking would anyone stop to listen? I speculated about how many people were feeling the same way I was as they struggled through the crowds day in and out without ever really understanding what it is that they struggle for.

I kept driving. I drove and drove for what seemed like an eternity until I was finally sitting in my garage about to leave the car and rejoin my life. Maybe someday I will hit the brakes and finally escape from myself and actually find me. What I worry about is whether that moment will be the pinnacle of clarity or a cliff of insanity.