Under Pressure

[noblwish]

 Throughout this pandemic, I've wanted to indulge in a good, ugly cry just for stress-relieving purposes.  I've had plenty of reasons, but just couldn't trigger the release.

 

My ex is visiting again.  He came by for dinner last night.  First thing he does when he walks in is start massaging my shoulders without so much as a "by your leave!"  I should have stopped him.  I should have been incensed, but dammit if he doesn't still know exactly where and how to touch me -- probably saved me a $70 in-home chair massage!  He claims he's psychic.  I suspect this was a subtle way of claiming ownership and I really should have stopped him, but... I do have needs.  Fortunately, a five-minute, fully-clothed shoulder rub was as far as things went.  I don't really know if it's worth mentioning, but I figured I would, anyway.

 

This week, I did something crazy.  I enrolled in THREE college courses at Austin Community College!  They're the last three classes required for me to graduate with an Associate's Degree.  I haven't take this many classes in one semester since I was 19!  I did it on a whim (with a quickie run by Mom, just 'cuz) because I need something to motivate me to get out of bed.  I started this year believing that I would finish my degree before it ended -- how poetic that my journey to get this piece of paper would take me 20 years!  The pandemic tried to stop me, but I won't let it.

 

Yesterday, I got an email that stated two of the three classes were cancelled due to low enrollment.  Well, fuck.  Last night (this morning?), I managed to register for an alternate section for one class, but the other still showed as valid.  Maybe the system needed to update.  I sent an email asking for confirmation and went to bed.  I woke before Noon today to see about that class.  Two voicemails and an email all confirmed that it was, indeed, cancelled, but the system still showed it as active!  A search for alternatives found nothing that wasn't already full.  Well, fuck!  I tried calling the department, but the voicemail said the office is still closed due to COVID, and to try connecting via Google Chat... so I did.  And I waited on pins and needles (and my Pilates ball) for any sign of a response.

 

As I waited, I asked myself what I'd do if I couldn't finish my degree this year.  My first thought was to go ahead and apply to UT.  Would that one remaining credit and missing piece of paper make a difference?  Would they ask me what made me "extraordinary" and why should they let me in?  A song came on Pandora that took me through a review of the challenges I've overcome, not just recently, but from the tender age of three.  Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with this feeling of grief and loss and a duty to live TWO lives' worth of potential -- my own, and my brother's.  The full tragedy of his life cut so short and yet so full of suffering hit me like a ton of bricks and I just sobbed.  My life hasn't been easy, but it's been full thanks to him.  I don't know that I've succeeded in fulfilling both of our potentials, but I've sure tried, and I'm still trying.  The possibility of delaying graduation felt more like I was failing Clay than anything else.  I had to make this happen!
 

This is not an emotion I experience very often.  I've learned to move on with my life and live it for myself most of the time.  I could never forget Clay, but the older I get, the less I think of him -- maybe once a week, now (about as often as my kids act sweet to each other, rather than squabbling), instead of every waking moment.  I wondered if Richard's presence made me vulnerable to these feelings again.  One of the reasons he and I bonded was because of our "matching baggage" -- he lost his father the same year, at about the same age, and we both experienced a marked change in our lifestyles due to these deaths, which for a child can be even more traumatic than the death, itself.

 

Whatever the reason, I let myself wallow in the grief and release months of uncertainty, fear, worry, anger, stress and social isolation.  The sobs came in several waves.  Silly me, I kept trying to pull myself together, then remembered how foolish it was, especially after MONTHS of really needing to cry, so I'd let it hit me again.  As I burrowed into my pillow, my tears soaking into the memory foam, I swear I could feel Clay, his hands on mine, his curls against my cheek as he hugged me from behind (Hardings are a cuddly clan), comforting me, wordlessly assuring me that I wasn't letting him down, that I'd find a way, that he believed in me.  Eventually, I found the strength to log back into my laptop and see if anyone had responded to my chat.  They had!  The class had NOT been cancelled after all!  It was saved at the last minute!  Glory be!

Relieved and overjoyed, I again collapsed into a puddle of tears -- this time, more happy than anything, but just as wracking and cleansing as before.  Now, I feel lighter, but vulnerable... like I could succumb to another wave any time.  That's okay.  I need this.  School starts on Monday!