Self Control

Sarah started by wanting to control herself, and so she did everything in her power to prevent emotional disruption to her stasis. This meant whittling down her contacts to only those who were neither upsetting, nor surprising, because even a surprise results in a blip.

Sarah soon found that simply asking unpredictable folks not to call her wasn’t enough, so she blocked all whom she found to be disruptive from facebook, from her cell, from gchat, from her life, until finally all who called were those whom she could count on to not called,

And that was fine with her.

But soon Sarah realized that leaving the house could be disruptive, because every time she left to run an errand, something happened that she couldn’t control. There was the medical emergency on the metro rails that set her train 10 minutes behind and caused her to miss yoga; Sarah found this to be very upsetting, and so yoga soon had to go. There was the traffic jam at the outside rush-hour time that caused Sarah to have to wait to get to the restaurant to pick up dinner and get back, which Sarah found to be the source of a spike in her blood pressure and a drop in her blood sugar, both of which could lead to long-term chronic illness, and so they had to go.

And that was fine with her.

Sarah spent her time in her house from that point on, as the fear of life outside took over. Car accidents, muggers, sudden snowstorms, new people—all of these became things that Sarah couldn’t control, causes for blips, cases for her to stay inside, and Sarah lived inside of them, using them as reasons to cling to the center of her carefully-cultivated life.

And that was fine with her.

One day, while Sarah was carrying her laptop downstairs, she lost her footing and fell down the last three steps. She dropped her laptop, and the screen cracked when it crashed to the ground, and she fell on her butt, which caused a massive bruise.

Sarah realized that even in her home, there were things she could not control, and that stairs were a massive liability. And so she decided to stay only upstairs, as this would be the greatest protection against a staircase’s unpredictable agenda.

And that was fine with her.

Sarah spent her time between her bedroom and bathroom, until one day she slipped in the shower. This time when she crashed to the bottom of the tub, she felt foolish. Water, ceramic, soap. How could she not have seen such a slippery combination coming? She knew there was only one solution, and that was to stay in her room.

And that was fine with her.

But even in her room, Sarah found that there were dangers—pizza boxes, dirty laundry, phone chargers and laptop cords were a veritable landmine in what was supposed to be her safe haven. And so she realized that the only safe place was in her bed.

And that was fine with her.

 

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