Six Things I Don't Know How To Do
With great thanks to Holly Starley for her wonderful writing workshops!
I don’t know how to play hockey.
I don’t know how to tell the truth. Okay, that’s not quite right; I do know how to tell the truth, and I know the difference between lying and not telling the whole truth but the truth is, telling the truth is the more difficult option than not telling the truth, which in its it most artful form is a toxic marvel of not telling the whole truth and lying, and I’ve got the whole science of how to mix the perfect balance of lying and not telling the whole truth down to a science, because I was married for eleven years, okay that’s also a lie, I’m still married but have been separated for thirteen years and that is the painful truth, and what is most painful is knowing the truth will set me free and it makes me wonder how free I really want to be.
I don’t know how to date. Totally unrelated I swear.
I don’t know how to breathe. Okay, that’s not quite right. I know how to breathe. I just don’t know how to remember to breathe. That is, in moments of anxiety or stress, I will hold my breath and not realize that I’m holding my breath. I often don’t realize I’m holding my breath until I get to a moment I feel I can move on from the anxiety, and then I find myself panting, trying to “catch up” my breaths. This can often result in a small sweat breaking out, and by this time, anyone who might be around me is asking “hey, are you okay?” And it depends in the moment how well I’ve resolved the “problem” I was having trouble moving past, and whether or not my breathing reflexes have now graduated on to a full on panic attack in which case I am HYPER aware of how much trouble I’m having breathing. This is a whole new evolved or graduated level of a problem, because when I’m having trouble breathing, I usually need to lay down, and this is hard to do in a classroom at ten in the morning while surrounded by 20 some odd public school students. If I were better at remembering to breathe, I’d probably save myself somewhere between five and ten panic attacks a year and I’m thinking maybe I shouldn’t have quit therapy, I bet therapy would help me how to remember how to breathe except that
I don’t know how to ask for help and
I don’t know how to switch out a transmission on an automatic.
"And it makes me wonder how free I really want to be!" Brilliant. All of it!
I read numbers 2 and 4 like three times each. And I'll come back and read them again. Because, and I see the irony here, 2 is especially true, and 4 is resonant, especially these days.
Delighted to have any tiny part in this!
Oh, I love this!!!