stephanie always manages to (beattheodds) wrote in repose, @ 2018-01-18 00:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | *forum, *narrative, *news, damian wainright, stephanie miller |
narrative: stephanie at ghost ranch; news: capital
who: stephanie
what: narrative -- finding herself and getting back her purple.
where: repose -> ghost ranch, NM -> repose -> the capital
when: this week.
warnings: long. some darker thoughts.
Day 1
Arriving. Stephanie isn't careful to put her ducks in a row before she left. Because let's all be honest here, she isn't keen on going away. What kind of bullshit could a writing retreat be? She's aware that she can't keep within her own head more than a few minutes before spiraling into a lethal concoction of self-loathing and seething hatred. Multiple glasses had been broken over the course of the last couple of weeks, and okay, maybe she's getting sick of sweeping up the shards and having to replace the tumblers. By this point, she's at least managed to get her old apartment above the Ice Cream Shoppe back and can wallow in a space that isn't filled with memories of him or of things that can dig deep into her stomach and boil the rage over. Moving back into her own apartment is a blessing of distraction in certain moments, getting reacquainted with the space as her pets do the same.But, she finds herself lost in thought. Maybe she thinks about him walking out on her right after she'd found out she wasn't pregnant or the idea of him already pressed up somewhere against Muerte, so in love with that woman in a way Stephanie could never get from him.
The envelope sits on the counter like just some big ass elephant in the room ever since she received it, shifting aimlessly over the weeks, until she decides fuck it and begins throwing some items in her bag. She calls a pet sitter and leaves her keys in a MasterLock outside of the house before taking a cab to the airport.
She arrives in New Mexico and checked into the ranch, and as she's lead to her room, she regrets it immediately. Something in her stomach tries to pull her back home as she walks down the hallway, suitcase in hand and trying to make a miracle happen with her phone service.
Key into lock. Turn key and wait for a click.
The room is warm and modest, and Stephanie prompty faceplants onto one of the beds and wonders about her life choices. She's still wearing her engagement ring.
Day 2
Wake Up. She rolls out of bed sometime around 8 AM as the sun crawls into her room.
Breakfast. Eggs, coffee, toast. There's a waffle station, but she's not in a waffle mood. She sits by herself and tries her phone again. No service.
Book reading. In the common area. She brings different books and settles on How to be a Woman. It's supposed to make her feel better about her life choices and how she acts. So far, it doesn't.
Workshop 1. She does not like -- when had she started to hate kumbaya, ya-ya sisterhood stuff? This used to be her jam. She feels guarded and, when asked questions about herself, gave the bare minimum. A break-up, a traumatic childhood, a gift from a friend to come here.
Lunch. tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich with a Coke. She wants comfort food after the morning. She sits by herself again, but this time tries to read her book.
Book reading. This time in her room.
Workshop 2. Okay, this one isn't as bad as the first. Maybe it's like ripping off a bandaid. She doesn't hate everyone in the room, and she feels something loosening in her shoulders. Everyone is very nice, and when did she actually stop liking nice people? But she's just ready to retreat by the end of it. She's miserable and not ready to let it go. Why are these other people so eager to forgive and forget?
Writing. She just does bullet points of what kind of bullshit this whole situation is. There is a lot of pen digging into paper and angry scribbling. It's very therapeutic.
Dinner. She grabs some salad because she feels guilty about earlier, but then hits up the desserts after.
More writing. Steph continues working on that list -- things like MOVING BACK HERE FOR HIM are emblazoned across the paper. At the end of it, she rips up the paper and tosses it into the garbage. Fuck that. Instead, she starts on a different kind of list. Why she should keep going. It's short, and it worries her.
Nightcap. She's packed a couple of bottles of wine and decides she'll kill one of the bottles so she can forget what's brought her here and pass out.
Bedtime. The ring is still on.
Day 3
Wake up. It's a brutal morning; wine hangovers are the worst. She isn't out of bed until 10:30.
Breakfast. Coffee. Nibbles of toast. More coffee. Maybe an aspirin or two.
Hike. She decides fresh air will help her splitting headache and decides to do one of the tours, a Georgia O'Keefe walking tour. It's a bit of a walk, and she's reminded how out of shape she is (and tells herself she'll start going to the gym again when she gets home). But the scenery is stunning and perspective-changing, and she wonders why she's even bothering with any of it at all. Her life has been in shambles for years, and it seems like a waste to keep trying. Tears sting her eyes as she tries in vain to listen to the tour guide, and instead of going to her morning workshop, she retreats to her room and cries until she sleeps. She misses all of the afternoon and wakes up when it's dark.
Dinner. She grabs whatever's quickest -- a sandwich and a bottle of water -- and scurries back to her room. She makes sure to avoid eye contact.
Bath. Her second bottle of wine sits next to the bathtub as she fills it with hot water. Steam floats up, and when she pulls her hand back after testing the temperature, her fingers are pink. She forgoes a cup tonight in favor of drinking straight from the bottle. When she finishes the bottle, she lets herself slip and sink in the tub until her head dips underneath the water. Her blue eyes blink open, and she stares at the ceiling, bubbles expelling from her nose and mouth. She thinks about what she'd really be coming back to in Repose. The boys would be fine; Damian practically told her to fuck of already. Eddie is probably shacked up with Muerte already. Her pets could go to loving households -- hell, even Eddie could take them.
The urge to pull her head up screams inside of her, but she uses her arms to keep her head down. Water splashes over onto the floor, where that list of good things from last night is. Ink blurs. The rest of her air knocks out, and after a couple of long moments, she goes dizzy. The edges of her vision start to dim.
And in that moment, she decides she doesn't want to die.
Bedtime. After her revelation in the bath and coming up with a desperate gasp for air, she soaks until her skin prunes, wondering what she can do next. Jersey is always a viable option. She falls asleep with pen in hand, a new list started: Plan Bs.
Day 3.5
Wake up. It's around 2 or 3 AM. Stephanie wakes up with a headache and looks out the window. Considering only for a moment before taking a sweater and her cigarettes, wrapping herself up, and stepping outside. She's gotten used to the quiet in Repose, but this almost feels like the sound's been completely sucked out of the universe. As she lights one of her cigarettes, she looks up to the sky. With every inhale, she observes the tiny dots overhead, wondering if those in Repose are seeing the same thing. If those in Jersey see the same thing.
It's invigorating to remember how expansive the universe is. She realizes that there are a wealth of opportunities for herself in the world. She realizes there has to be something more for her, and okay, maybe some people are right about the way she's been acting, or the habits she's fallen into. Pangs of guilt rumble in her stomach, but she doesn't let it cripple her in this moment. Instead, she looks up to the sky, inhale and exhale after inhale and exhale, and tells herself she's got to fix her shit.
When she returns to her room, the memory of the dark sky splattered in her mind, she takes pen to paper again and begins writing apology letters. To others and to herself.
The ring? Still in place.
Day 4
Wake up. She leaves the notebook with ideas in her room for the morning. Her head hurts from the wine, and from the crying, and from the fatigue.
Breakfast. An apple, some Special K, and a strong coffee.
Workshop 5. The other people here are far more along in their writing and healing process. Steph plays catch up and opens a little more to the people in her circle. About her past. About her relationship. Some people side with her and say it's bullshit. Others give her sound advice, and frankly, she's more wont to listen now.
Lunch. Another salad. She sits with some women this time, and they talk a little bit about themselves. Stephanie tells them about home -- both New Jersey and Repose.
Workshop 6. Part one is a guided nature walk; Stephanie loves this. She breathes deeply. She takes stock of the time. She counts every step. She revels in the burn in her muscles. When they meditate, she lets herself unspool from the stress, and she lets tears fall down her cheeks without shame.
Part two is talking about how to articulate these feelings they have, and Steph takes pages of notes.
Dinner. Treat Yo-self. A burger and fries. She laughs with the women at the table and exchanges numbers with one.
Bedtime. It's early tonight when she crawls into bed, and she falls asleep quickly. She's only woken twice by nightmares and uses some of her old breathing techniques to calm herself down.
She slips the engagement ring off her finger and puts it away.
Day 5
Wake up. She's rested, which is something she can't say about the last few weeks.
Breakfast. Okay, she gets the waffles this time.
Workshop 7. They share what they've written so far. Stephanie doesn't have anything concrete, but she reads a snippet of the letter she wrote to herself. It's healing, and when some people nod along, she feels validated.
Lunch. Hodgepodge. She grabs what she can take to the airport, as her check-out is around 3 and her flight is at 5.
Check-out. She hugs one of the other participants and promises to stay in touch. She means it.
Home. That's what she thinks with relief when she walks into her apartment above the Ice Cream Shoppe later that evening. She's greeted by excited animals and kisses fur with vigor. She thinks about contacting the family about her being back, but she decides to leave that until tomorrow.
Day 5.5
Capital. She's in all black with a splash of purple. It's cold as FUCK, and she remembers a similar moment years earlier. Bitching about the cold as teeth chattered into a ear piece to a man in riddled green. She tries not to let it rip her stomach apart to think about that. Instead, she perches herself on the lip of a low roof in one of the seedier sections of the Capital. It's been years, and the cold and the height makes her feel more alive than she has in a long time.
There's a scream below. Stephanie pulls up that purple cowl to cover her face and jumps with a thud onto a rickety fire escape.