A Rare Kind of Ordinary

I'm afraid of the things

That make me suffer—

bright lights

noise

vivid colors

smells

movement:

        At the park with the kids

        A birthday party

        Restaurants at dinner time

        Movies

        Grocery stores

        Malls

        Mealtimes and tantrums

Spending time

with the people I love the most

is heart-wrenchingly difficult.

The pain and the fear of the pain

leave me wanting to

needing to

disengage

        dissociate

I need to put up my walls—

        dark quiet spaces

        blankets

        solitude

        binge watching on a subscription.

A subscription to fiction

        where I can be in the spaces

my loved ones live in,

and engage like them

with them

because the noise from within

is not so loud

that I have no capacity for the world.

---

But today,

I cooked. It was noisy

and messy.

I cleaned.

I ate. Eating

has been hard. But I did it.

I fed my child.

She only wanted the peas.

The other one hates peas.

It works out, I suppose.

Today, I went grocery shopping

  with both my children in tow:

the older calm,

the little one chanting a persistent

mantra for "lollipop!"

        Till we got to the checkout

Whereupon my maternal desperation

produced two preservative-free prizes

        because Trader Joe's is like that.

Today, I went shopping for gifts

        at a crowded Target

        on a weekend.

        The older one was tired

and whiny but helpful.

        The little one was bored

and wanted to climb in and out of the cart.

Today, it all felt normal.

Today, it all felt like life.

My children were sweet, funny and frustrating.

I was their mother.

Today, I engaged.