i am a christine
everything started going downhill when i lost my necklace in the swamp. it was february and my feet were wet, thick with winter mud. i was collecting bones and orange blossoms and designing a trail on the side. i was ripping through the pathless woods, cralwing through thickets of privet and ducking under widowmakers. the necklace was a simple silver ring on a plain silver chain. my dad bought me the ring at the open air market in charleston when i was 17. i had not taken the necklace off for three years when the woods siezed it from me. i felt for it, as i always do when i feel anxious. it was gone, somewhere in the swamp, too vast and far for my shaking hands to grasp.
or maybe everything started going downhill after the bad trip in september 2010. or maybe everything started going downhill after my grandparents died and we sold the house. or maybe i’m just seeking some event to blame for my 80% piss-poor decision making record.
i am a christine that has three modes of being: happy-christine, anxious-christine, and malicious-christine. i am always anxious, often malicious, and rarely happy. i am not stupid. i know about herbalism and meditation and mindfulness and exercise and healthy diet. i am no longer on drugs of any kind, recreational or psychotropic. at least 20% of the time.
i drink a lot of alcohol but wish it was nettle tea. i start the days with caffiene but wish it was yoga. i smoke an occasional cigarette when i am under duress but pretend it’s not bad for me. i take solace in abusing myself. i always pick the low hanging fruit.
i have been living this way either since i lost my necklace, since i had a bad trip, or since my grandparents died and we sold the house. it does not matter because time is not linear and all of these events and are happening at once and making it hard to breathe. i am reaching for my necklace. i am walking through a park on drugs. i am kissing my grandma goodbye for the last time. all the while laying naked in my bed and typing these words, not caring that they are sad, just ecstatic to be writing again.
i am a christine with long hair. i am a skinny christine. i am a christine with headaches. i am a christine with memories.
me-more-ees.