Delusional Days


One of the hills of San Francisco

Well, God, whoever you are, or me but hopefully not a ‘whatever’…it’s another one of those days again. 

You seem to be having a lot of those days recently.

I’m thankful for my dogs, cats, a house to live in, food, a job that I love, being able to write books, and the worlds’ best family.


I don’t know how to say this without sounding ungrateful.

That’s all right.  I’m used to ungrateful.

My husband had to rent a car to go a long distance for a short trip.  I rode to the rental car place with him in a not-quite-right car and rode home in a clean, sparkling new, climate controlled vehicle that rode so smoothly you could hardly hear the engine.  A Déjà vu feeling overwhelmed me.  I was back in time, driving in the countryside on the way to a new state, a new home and a new adventure.  From the time I was 25 to the time I turned 40, my lifestyle, political views, and dreams were vastly different from now.

It was much harder to get through to you then.

I was in my 30’s at the time.  During that decade I lost my 2nd husband, finished college while my children were under 10, endured a devastating relationship 2 years after husband #2’s death, remarried a year after that relationship, and moved to California.  You tried to tell me to wait, to heal, to get some help for the undiagnosed thyroid condition that wracked my body, but I didn’t believe I could have a thyroid condition.  Not me!  An incorrect diagnosis almost ruined my life.

You described the reasons why those years were the worst.  Why, then, are you looking at them so fondly at this moment?   

I’d walk into a boutique to buy an $800 suit, and I looked fabulous in it! It was nothing to spend $40 on a fine dinner in a 5 star restaurant. 

You felt as if your whole life was a smorgasbord of possibilities. 

Every day, I crossed over the Golden Gate bridge for work, watching the sun rise in a surreal landscape.  The kids loved sitting in the 3rd seat that faced the back of the Celebrity station wagon as it arched over the top of a steep road in San Francisco with 3 pre-teens giggling when the car bounced like the Dukes of Hazzard.  

You were like a frog on a lily pad in a lake full of alligators.  

I understand I was totally oblivious to danger.  I understand why I’m supposed to be where I am at this time in my life.  But understanding a concept and internalizing it are 2 completely different things.  I can understand that meat comes from animals.  I understand that animals have feelings and don’t deserve the cruelty imposed on them so that they can end up on my dinner table.  Had I internalized this message, I’d be a vegetarian.

You’re digressing again.  I want you to focus on exactly what part of the emotional hell you called your 3rd marriage made you feel so nostalgic. 

I felt in that car on the way home the memory of a lifestyle that screamed out to me, “You hold the world in your hand and the possibilities for your life are endless.”

Need I remind you that you only felt this way because you insisted on living a delusion?

I remember riding to the mall in husband #3’s Acura, visiting the Ethel M counter to become immersed in a dark chocolate covered coconut candy.  I remember how much he enjoyed watching my ecstasy.

Do you remember the time he chased one of your children around the kitchen with a carving knife?

He was cutting chicken at the time and forgot he was holding it.

He had an explosive temper.  You positioned your body between your child and your husband.

It was the moment I knew that if I lived through his rage it was the last time he’d terrify my children, no matter what the cost.  I had few outlets for my frustrations, my doubts, my grief and humiliation over another failed marriage.  That was 15 years before Facebook, camera phones, cell phones social media…

But you are exhausted from the headaches and eyestrain of trying to keep up with social media.

In the 1980’s, social media was called a telephone.   I love the ability to reach out, the virtual interconnectedness,  and the knowledge that I’m not alone.  But yes, I don’t particularly like the toll it’s taking on my physical health.  I’m out of my element, living in a world that has passed me by and not in a world where there are so many possibilities ahead of me.

Still insisting on missing the obvious?

I feel like I’m running faster and faster and getting nowhere.

You called it “Alice in Twitter Land.”  You’re getting warmer…

I enjoy sitting at a computer with my eyes closed, typing a new chapter for one of my books.  I used to love parties.   I used to love getting into the car, driving anywhere I wanted to go, walking into an airport without having an anxiety attack…

Why don’t you come out and say it!  You’re feeling old, tired, unloved, forgotten, thrown away and disconnected.

Life is too short to dwell on stuff like that.  I’m isolated because of the decisions I’ve made over a lifetime.  I want to be a great friend, a good listener, and the type of person who is always there for friends and family.  I want to be the person who always knows exactly the right thing to do and say at exactly the right time.  But I’m not.

Don’t you think people love you in spite of your flaws?

No.  I think they tolerate me.

Every person in the world experiences varying degrees of delusional.  You have days when you forget this is the human condition.  Remember who you are!

I have Wonder Woman potential but I’m spending my life as one of the 1000 wide-eyed, terrified movie extras aimlessly running from Godzilla?

That’s one way of putting it.

Why do I have to be the bad example parents point to when teaching their kids what not to do?

As I keep trying to tell you, every person in the world who isn’t exceptionally delusional has days like this, too.  Just ask.

This is the 21st century.  I have a blog.  Consider it done.