Taking the Train

Originally posted June 21st 2023

On Friday I took the train for the first time in over a year. I’m going to be in a car for the first time in 9 months in a couple weeks. I’ve been going to the grocery shop by myself consistently. I’ve been simultaneously feeling very stuck and beginning to feel a bit more free.

The train journey was brief. I wanted to get a metrocard but turns out everything is contactless now, so I could just use my card. I wanted to get the card as a motivator, that I was considering taking the train. Then my sister explained the card situation but we decided to go into the station anyways. It reminded me of Algate East station with less headroom. The tiles probably used to be white but are now a brown shade of yellow. I bite the bullet and decided to go for a stop, just to see what it was like. We missed the train by a few seconds, a familiar feeling of defeat seeing the doors close. In fact, the whole event was very familiar. The smell, kicking the back of my feet, trying to kill the minutes until the next train. Once on the train, I again, felt very normal and understood the dynamics. I’ve taken many, many trains and they all operate the same socially. I could’ve stayed on that train longer but didn’t want to end up in a Kensington that I don’t know, though it made me smile to think of taking the Circle line. After a short train journey, we got off and saw a man who had just thrown up all over the road, still spitting out the remnants. I should point out a big part of my fear comes from the fear of throwing up in public, so this was a very convenient bit of exposure therapy. We walked away and I focused on my breathing (I’ve found it surprising after finally taking breathing techniques seriously, they’re actually quite helpful, whats next? Exercise?).

We walked a couple miles, backtracking through the border of Williamsburg and Greenpoint. It was dusk and people were crowding around in restaurants and bars, dogs sat on chairs at outdoor tables, there were people on dates, groups of friends chatting shit. I pushed past all these things, trying to get home while also trying to be in the moment. It’s been hard to do that when my mind wants to panic and go into tunnel vision. I’m still scared of letting good things happen, worried that I will be punished for it. Every bad thing happens because I deserve it, every good thing a mistake.

But I took the train. I took the train and I was anxious but I did it and it was a bit fun. I want to take the train again (and again) and visit my brothers apartment finally, go to a museum. Have a panic attack in public and it not be the end of the world. I don’t know. I’m sick of the cycle of having a meltdown, isolating and starting again. Today was a bad day for thinking positively. The days are all over the place. I feel like I’ll always be here, alone and desperate for any kind of connection. But on Friday I thought about how much I’d love to go get a coffee with a friend, how much I wanted out of the apartment, how ready I was to be okay. It’s been over a year of this now, I’m very ready for it to be done.

Thanks for reading,

Enya xx

Here’s poem written earlier today (20/06/23)

Worker’s Coat

I miss pushing through the waves of crowds, 
Towards a circle of familiar combinations
Miss taking pictures of my friend’s shoes,
There was a green shadow cast on the evening
Remembering it well enough to paint from memory
Give me a moment, I’m catching the shapes

Her bandana is yellow, I know I’m remembering this wrong
Never being one for bright colours
But her smile, she hides it often, is clear
and the day is ending sooner than we’d like

Blue workers coat, mixed in with the others
I’m a copycat killer, sorry, I mean outfit stealer
Liking the way they tie their scarf,
lace up their boots
tucking in their shirt especially

The V of their lower torso covered by a V-neck shirt
It’s green again
And it’s not as clear as it once was
I don’t know if I’m remembering this right
But my shoes are yellow 
and my jacket is blue 
and a green jumper is tucked into my jeans.
It gives me away.