The closet...
Our home growing up was very, very small. I don't recall it bothering me or being anything of an issue at the time. But now as I look back I can only imagine the time my Mom had keeping it neat and tidy with 4 kids, a dog, and my Dad to deal with. All of our "stuff".
My room was painted a light pink, with bright raspberry trim. My carpet was grey. All my furniture was painted white. I had a bedspread that was patchwork and everything had a place. There was a closet in my room, but it was filled with my Moms clothes and shoes, hats, coats and belts.
That door would only close and latch if you pushed hard and heard the click of the handle.
Once it was shut, you wouldn't dare open it-for fear of the BOING of clothes!
It was certainly neat, but JAMMED full of stuff.
When I got in a mood, which didnt happen often I would climb into the closet and sit on the shoes. Then pull the door closed behind me and wait for the click.
That meant I was IN.
It was pitch black in there.
I can conjur the smells and darkness in there.
Dark, beyond dark. smelling like leather shoes, plastic wrap form the drycleaners and the bottoms of dresses and coats hanging in my face. I could curl up in there and just breath in....
MOM.
SAFE.
COZY.
DARK.
INVISIBLE.
I wish I had that closet now sometimes. I would never be able to fit into it in this condition, but emotionally I need "the closet."
I was a teenager and still getting into the closet. I remember a time in maybe 9th grade, sitting inthe closet, door clicked tight.
When my Mom was calling me.
This was a secret hiding place for me, I didnt let anyone know I was in there for fear of them thinking me WHACKY.
I could hear the "Suzie, Suzie?"
I just sat there in the closet. Didn't answer.
Still, barely breathing. eyes closed.
"Suzie! You here?"
My bedroom door opened, "Suz?"
I sat there, still not answering.
She left my room, and stopped calling for me. I just sat there, wrapped up in long bathrobes and winter coats, boots, sandals all together feathering my nest.
I wanted to just stay there, never come out. Just stop looking for me and let me just melt away.
Was this normal teen angst? Do all 14 year old girls want to hide away?
Why do I want the closet back now that I am 46?
Now I have enough of my own closets in THIS house that IS MY HOUSE, but i dont want to hide in my own clothes, I want THAT CLOSET!
I sit here on my bed on a Sunday afternoon, told the boys I was going upstairs to lay down for an hour before we have our St Patricks day pot roast dinner. I want to hide and melt into the blankets.
I want to disappear.
The gloom of this long winter has settled into my psyche and I'm feeling broken, and beaten up.
Just tired.
I need the closet. To recollect myself and redefine what the hell I am doing here.
Only difference is when your fourteen things look alot more optimistic than when you are 46.
Just saying.
Especially from the bottom of your Mothers closet. aggh.
Love to all.
My room was painted a light pink, with bright raspberry trim. My carpet was grey. All my furniture was painted white. I had a bedspread that was patchwork and everything had a place. There was a closet in my room, but it was filled with my Moms clothes and shoes, hats, coats and belts.
That door would only close and latch if you pushed hard and heard the click of the handle.
Once it was shut, you wouldn't dare open it-for fear of the BOING of clothes!
It was certainly neat, but JAMMED full of stuff.
When I got in a mood, which didnt happen often I would climb into the closet and sit on the shoes. Then pull the door closed behind me and wait for the click.
That meant I was IN.
It was pitch black in there.
I can conjur the smells and darkness in there.
Dark, beyond dark. smelling like leather shoes, plastic wrap form the drycleaners and the bottoms of dresses and coats hanging in my face. I could curl up in there and just breath in....
MOM.
SAFE.
COZY.
DARK.
INVISIBLE.
I wish I had that closet now sometimes. I would never be able to fit into it in this condition, but emotionally I need "the closet."
I was a teenager and still getting into the closet. I remember a time in maybe 9th grade, sitting inthe closet, door clicked tight.
When my Mom was calling me.
This was a secret hiding place for me, I didnt let anyone know I was in there for fear of them thinking me WHACKY.
I could hear the "Suzie, Suzie?"
I just sat there in the closet. Didn't answer.
Still, barely breathing. eyes closed.
"Suzie! You here?"
My bedroom door opened, "Suz?"
I sat there, still not answering.
She left my room, and stopped calling for me. I just sat there, wrapped up in long bathrobes and winter coats, boots, sandals all together feathering my nest.
I wanted to just stay there, never come out. Just stop looking for me and let me just melt away.
Was this normal teen angst? Do all 14 year old girls want to hide away?
Why do I want the closet back now that I am 46?
Now I have enough of my own closets in THIS house that IS MY HOUSE, but i dont want to hide in my own clothes, I want THAT CLOSET!
I sit here on my bed on a Sunday afternoon, told the boys I was going upstairs to lay down for an hour before we have our St Patricks day pot roast dinner. I want to hide and melt into the blankets.
I want to disappear.
The gloom of this long winter has settled into my psyche and I'm feeling broken, and beaten up.
Just tired.
I need the closet. To recollect myself and redefine what the hell I am doing here.
Only difference is when your fourteen things look alot more optimistic than when you are 46.
Just saying.
Especially from the bottom of your Mothers closet. aggh.
Love to all.
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