Why I Move Like This
This is the 2nd day I’ve woken up before 5 AM. It’s fine, I think I operate better on 5–6 hours of sleep than I do on the usual 8–9. I like this little quiet morning time with my cups of coffee, toaster strudels and cheap menthol 100 cigarettes. I have a little time to scratch in my journal with my favorite pens, and my mind gets into gear.
I've been having these interactions with the new humans in my apartment that make me think about the ways I move, and the reasons why I move those ways.
Spoiler alert: Trauma.
That’s it, it turns out that all of the fucked up shit you went through to get where you are…Turns out that hangs on as you keep going. It hangs on when I don’t trust anyone, or when i’m paranoid about my things going missing. I’ve had all of my belongings stolen from my domicile while I was away, before.
It hangs on when I stress about how much I have to eat, and how long it’s going to last because I've literally gone hungry before.
It hangs on, as a box cutter in the mug on my bedside table where I keep my blue and black gel pens, because I've been attacked in the place where I was living, on separate occasions, might I add.
So, I have to say no when I’m asked for things, and then I feel bad. Usually, I feel so bad that I end up retracting the no, the fact is though, people can tell me they got me when their check comes in on August 15th but there's two facts at play that are problematic.
A.) My brother in Christ, it’s only July 23rd.
B) I don’t know you from any other motherfucker in this city, we met 4 days ago.
It just so happens that I was freshly food stamped out when the new roomies moved in, so they look at me like some kind of millionaire or something. It’s like “no, i’m just a little white boy who just got his groceries. when they’re gone because I gave them away, i’ll be broke and worried about the cost of a loaf of wonder bread, for real”.
It’s interesting, because to some people (my roommates included) I have it relatively together in a lot of ways that maybe they don’t. They want to come post up in my room and talk to me about whatever. It’s nice, I suppose, to be the kind of person that other people want to be around. I can do things that other people can’t do, i’d like to be helpful to other people if I can.
Yesterday, I took Karl the new roommate to get a free phone, but i’ll say this in local dialect
“dead ass, it took 3 hours standing in front of rite aid to get this thing and I got tight”
I used to want to be around people as much as I could, but now…I’m an introvert. Honestly I could go a week without talking to another person, and i’d be just fine. I don’t want to feel like I have to entertain anyone else, when i’m literally up to my eyes in something like cutting samples up to use on a new musical thing I think sounds good, I’m ADHD hyperfocused and I really cant be bothered to chat about anything when I'm in that state.
I’m not an asshole about it, though.
I’m trying not to be.
I need to say things like “i have a limited battery for social interactions and it needs to charge.”
“i already gave you a grip of cigarettes, today, man. at least 5, plus I took 3 hours to get you a phone, maybe you’re asking a bit much of the kid”
“i’m sorry you cant use my laptop to watch dragon ball z, because no one uses my laptop for anything but me, you’ll notice a password feature installed. PC, man= Personal Computer. Plus, i’m using it”
Of course I worry that the people I say these things to will think i’m an asshole.
Fact is, I’ve already lost miles in my life to people I reluctantly granted just inches to. I try to tell people that my boundaries aren’t personal, and once I say that…if they take it personally, then fuck em.
I’ve been places where you could get your face broken over a honey bun, it’s tough not to keep that kind of vigilance.
I guess i’m sorry, I mean… in some ways I really shouldn't have to be sorry for doing what I need to do for my personal equilibrium, and comfort level.
