Nice and Mild

This is going to be—no, I don’t want to be categorical—this could be the start of a virtuous circle. My psychologist has told me that I need to say positive things to myself, only I don’t want to be too positive, as that might just make things worse. But I can say this: My life is a mess and I’m going to try to sort it out, starting with the small things. Then later, I’ll be able to deal with bigger, more complicated things; buying blinds is a lifeline that’s been thrown to me from dry land as I flail and flounder in the waves.

Illustration by ELENI KALORKOTI

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I’m going to IKEA to buy blinds for my son. He’s been complaining about it for over six months now, the fact that he doesn’t have blinds, so the sun shines straight onto his computer screen. And now I’m going to sort it out. I’ve been saying for the past six months that I’ll buy blinds, and every time my wife’s said to me, I can do it, if you like, I’ve said, No, I will sort it out. And now I’m going to do it. It’s a nice, mild autumn day and I’m trying to hold on to that, a simple thought; that it’s nice and mild. At home, the DVR is recording the match between Anna Kournikova and Serena Williams. I try to hold on to that: The very fact that I’m recording the match and not watching it live is the start of the virtuous circle that buying the blinds was going to start, and what’s more, I’ve come here on my own and no one—that’s to say, my wife— knows that I’m here. I didn’t say anything about what I was going to do, I didn’t even say I was going out; she was in the garden no doubt in her windproof jacket raking the leaves, so I ran out. I want to surprise her in the same way that I’m going to surprise myself. She won’t know anything about it, she’ll just go into our son’s room and see the blinds hanging there and realize that I am starting to sort things out. I don’t reflect at all on the fact that I’m basically sneaking off to sort things out, and don’t see it as clearly contradictory. It shows initiative. I’m showing myself that all is not lost, which will have positive consequences over time. At home, Anna Kournikova is hitting tennis balls over a net, and I’m not there to watch it, I’m here, and I’ve been driving around the parking lot for a while now trying to find a space near the perimeter, and I’ve managed; several times I’ve felt small waves of claustrophobia and thought, I have to get away from here, before it’s too late, before the cars, the people, and the buildings are on top of me and smother me, until my heart explodes with a whistling nothing, but I’ve weathered the storm, I’ve talked to myself, said simple things like: I’m going to buy blinds. My life is a mess and I want to try to sort it out, starting with the small things. I repeat: I’m going to buy blinds. Remind myself that everything will be normal, everything will be fine. I will sort it out. I’m going to go in, find the blinds, pay, and leave. At home, Anna Kournikova is hitting tennis balls over a net. And I am not there to watch. I am here, I open the car door, get out, it’s nice and mild, close the car door, try not to pull an ironic face because I’m thinking such simple, positive things, I try not to see myself from the outside, I try...