The Bloody Doors Off

Cathy, I’m lost, I said though I knew she was sleeping
And I’m empty and aching and I don’t know why
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
They’ve all come to look for America

America, Simon & Garfunkle

I may have used that before. I reserve the right to reuse, if it fits my mood.

Which this does.

I’m feeling disconnected today.

It could be the lithium.

Finally took one this morning.

But this predates the new medication. Which yes, I realize I’d put off taking this for close to two months after agonizing whether or not to fill the scrip. I’ve been tetherless for most of the week. It lessens temporarily when I focus on a specific task, like work from a client, or getting lost in a good documentary (I’m looking at you, No Responders Left Behind. You were amazeballs last night. Seriously friends, if you have Discovery+ you should watch it. You’ll laugh. You’ll cry.)

But yeah, take away the shiny and I’m back in the rowboat, drifting downstream without a paddle.

(As an aside, because I’m jumping tracks randomly tonight. I hate the new two-step verification to log into my bank account online. I get why it’s there. I appreciate the added security. But every time I try to sign in, I have to get a code sent to a different device. Not very helpful.)

Marlo and I were discussing photographs earlier. Correction, Marlo was regaling me with stories of packing and selectively purging old photographs. I bring this up because it reminded me of photo albums I had when I was a kid. That, for some insane reason, I chose to toss in one of my many moves a couple of decades ago. I think of these photographs now with longing. A favourite were two photographs of my best friend growing up, Doug, and I on the set of the game show Definition. We posed with the host Jim Perry, the announcer (weatherman Dave Duvall from CTV), and Canadian treasure Louis Del Grande. Google Seeing Things. Seriously. It lasted six seasons and won 4 Gemini Awards (the Canadian Emmys).

But one particular photograph came to mind tonight. Me and René. How did we become friends? I couldn’t tell you. I think he was the son of a friend of my dad’s? But we were damned good friends for the time. And that lead me down the path of thinking on the people I’ve met over the years, whose lives touched mine, made an impact with the way I grew up, shaped my worldview. Aside from a few friends from high school that I’ve reconnected with on Facebook (I REFUSE to call it by its new name), they’ve all gone off and lived their own lives.

You’d think that would make me feel connected, right?

But no. Those are just fleeting memories that I hold no concrete proof of any longer.

This post doesn’t make much sense.

But then, neither do I, at the moment.