In the silence
My apartment complex had a small coffee social this morning. Of course nothing is ever simple when I go down to one of these.
We were given small styrofoam coffee cups with the small bottom and I spilled mine all over the table. I cleaned it up using the paper towels from the lobby bathroom.
The round table with four of us sitting around it smelled of coffee and the french vanilla creamer that I like to drink.
One of the ladies, Gloria, smiled when I cleaned it up and nothing was said about my clumsiness. Although Mindy, one of our deaf residents, mentioned that she had had a small stroke previously and she wasn't comfortable with the styrofoam cups either. I admitted that I did better with the stability of a coffee mug. It was lovely talking to these women, but soon I got antsy and I left.
You see, I do much better in the quiet. When there are too many people and the lobby fills up with noise, then my ears begin to hurt and I can't think. This set of circumstances will bring on a headache. I use any excuse to come back to my own apartment. Sometimes I can't even listen to music when I have had my fill of sound. It fills me up too much. I will turn off the soft background music and wear headphones so that I can turn out the sound of the air conditioner.
I can hear the high pitch of the pipes and the lower sounds of my refrigerator and other appliances. A few years ago I used to complain that I could hear the 60 hertz pitch from the outlets.
There is one sound I really miss. It is my late-hubby's voice. His voice brought me calm when I was having such a problem with prednisone side-effects. I have the rare side effects of hallucinations, voices, and paranoia when I am on that medication. I do strange things because I see strange things.
I am reading "Odd Thomas" by Dean Koontz again. And it reminds me of many of the things I saw when I was high on prednisone. Even then I could hear things in the eaves, which to other people sounded like a settling roof. To me it was loud and sounded like something was coming through it. During the time of prednisone psychosis I would see floating sharks around me and members of my family.
There are horrifying things sometimes in the void that seem to feed on our light and energy. I don't remember all the things I saw, but I do remember how I felt. It was fear that made me curl up into a ball and hide my eyes.
I was grateful when I started to wean down from that medication. I am more grateful that I am not on prednisone now. I may be clumsy, but I do not have the brain fog or hallucinations.
Even though I have a problem with too much sound, I still go to these little social gatherings. I do it not because I always enjoy these things, but because there are times I need to be around someone who can pull me from isolation. We are social apes after all.
I don't want to fall back into the void.