This morning a man I don’t know asked to sit at my tiny table with me at a coffee shop and I said yes because he had a good book in his hands and my friend wasn’t supposed to get there to join me for another forty minutes. I’m not sure I would ever have the gall to do that, but I’m glad he did. We sat there and read our respective books and checked our respective phones in a respectful silence, and I forgot that he was a stranger. He began to feel familiar. I was a kid walking around lost, pretending to blend into the families around them so that none of the ride operators ask why I’m alone. He finished his egg sandwich and left, and my friend never showed up, but I felt warmer the rest of the morning for his quiet company.
I’ve worn these yellow Lady Godiva shoes every day for the past week – as both challenge and inspiration – and now that I’m on the last day of my self-prescribed dare, I’m feeling desperate to stretch it to two weeks.
My poem, “Mental Illness Runs In My Blood” was published on HealthAffairs.org yesterday. You can check that out here for my poem and Akua Lezlie Hope’s “No Young People Here.”
In other mental health news (aka things that will be contributing to mine this Winter), Adele’s new album, 25, is set to come out in less than a month. In her tweeted letter about the new album, she called it a ‘make-up record,’ saying, “I’m making up with myself. Making up for lost time, Making up for everything I ever did and never did.”
It’s Friday. Make up with yourself.