Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Paul Varjak: The mean reds, you mean like the blues?
Holly Golightly: No. The blues are because you’re getting fat and maybe it’s been raining too long, you’re just sad that’s all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you’re afraid and you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?
Paul Varjak: Sure.
Holly Golightly: Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany’s. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that’d make me feel like Tiffany’s, then – then I’d buy some furniture and give the cat a name!
I wish it were that simple for me to get out of this funk. A cab ride and a pastry later and everything would be okay. Instead I have the blahs and the inability to think or feel anything I’m supposed to. I woke up this morning and couldn’t figure out if I had actually even slept. Even saying “woke up this morning” should indicate that I did, and yet I still have no clue if I slept last night. Everything feels dream-like, but nightmarish, like a dream you close your eyes tight and hope to wake up from. When I was a kid I used to get these night terrors, and I would spend most nights, paralyzed with fear, closing my eyes, hoping I would wake up and it would all be over. That feeling fills me now, and I sit here wanting to close my eyes, and when I open them have everything be okay. But when you have no idea what is wrong, it’s hard to wake up–it’s even harder to wake up when you’re already awake.
I’m supposed to go out tonight. I’m supposed to put on a fabulous outfit and smile and have an awesome time.
Things have been good with my friends. Familiar. Maybe that’s what freaks me out, and what makes me want to curl up in my bed and push the world away. Things have felt like this felt, felt good. And then I’ve let myself get comfortable, let my guard down, and watch as everything crumbled underneath me. Patterns repeating, smiles fading, nights spent curled up alone in my room wondering why I’m alone when I’m not alone at all. Maybe all this time my friends weren’t the ones leaving me, I was the one leaves them. Pushing them away before anyone can hurt me in return. All I want is to feel whole again, stable. To have everything under control. It felt like things were beginning to come together, that things were okay. And now I can feel everything breaking down again. Patterns repeating.
I’m so far from where I started.