Those White Walls

And finals are over. Finals brain is still in full force and I’m running low on inspiration.

I’ve been out of the hospital for almost a month, but not quite, still a few days to go. Still don’t have that many friends. I’ve gotten some new friends who have carried me through the weeks after my release. I still get lonely. I’m still hurt by the abandonment of people I’d counted on as friends. And my white walls are still making me crazy.

The walls actually make me quite crazy. To the extent that I think that they trigger the loneliness, that sometimes overwhelming and desperate loneliness. The white walls in the apartment didn’t happen until after I got out of the hospital. Perhaps that’s why my mind has sickly twisted and entwined the coldness of the white walls and my loneliness, which reminds me of the hospital– and at times just overwhelms me. You see, before the walls were white they were Arizona-adobe-retirement home-pink. They were warm and made the colors in our Mexican throw blanket pop.

We didn’t have to paint them back to the color they were before, a standard issue beige, all we had to do was prime the walls. Well, we primed them. And now my once-delightfully-pinkish walls are covered by rough strokes from the primer paint roller. You can still the pink under the primer. You have to get pretty creative with it but it’s there. Beneath the hideous coat of primer, my pink walls are barely discernible. Discernible but there.

I think that’s why they make me so crazy. Because the white walls just remind me of my hospitalization. And my hospitalization makes me think of the events that led up to it and caused my hideous loneliness. So seeing the white walls when I come home– not white, but thin-white-primer-over-pink-adobe walls–makes me think of all the things that happened before I went full crazy and ended up in the hospital. And the way things have been since I’ve gotten out, the people who have left me. This is why the white walls make me crazy. And why they always trigger my destructive loneliness.

So, really, it’s not really my fault– it’s their’s.
Those white walls.

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2 responses to “Those White Walls

  • queenlorene

    Can you cover them with anything? A blanket or cheap posters? It makes perfect sense that they would bother you. And if they are a trigger, then you must find or borrow something colorful to hide them until you leave.

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