Cockle Shells

It was a very boring meeting. The speaker was not at fault as he was brought in to make a presentation of a specific topic and so he did it admirably. It just happens that I was present only as a show of respect for the work he did on behalf of us all.

Somewhere between the overview and the conclusion I noticed a buzz in my brain.
This is always the harbinger of trouble ahead. Looking for a trigger in hopes of delaying the coming storm, I turn my mind inward and so miss the one thing that is bothering me on a subliminal level. It is the carpet in this meeting room - a horrid red and green that has an effect of flashing my brain like a strobe light.

To get through I close my eyes then open and focus on the speakers hair, Not good enough but better. By the time he finishes and I wait through the question period, my brain is on fire. I make it out the door and down the stairs with a minimum of fuss. Home and a dark room help to dim the cockle shell to the ear buzz that screams behind each thought as a background. Not good. Not good at all.

Waiting for the whirl to tornado away, it comes to me why I no longer work in management or indeed anything or anywhere that I might encounter noise or visual triggers. Mental carnage. Sonic roadkill of the mind. Neural fodder.

How can you tell people that random events might send you off into the twilight for a few minutes? What can you do to justify the sudden and very real need to leave and lay down? It is not easy to balance needs of the damaged mind with the real world.

Communication trouble irritates me more than anything.
Heck I am still mad at the techies who flashed the lights at me during last years show triggering a minute of surreality and a very real seizure in full view of the audience. To them it just seemed I had an attack of nerves. To me, it was a searing brand that took days to dull.

Just when I think it is behind me, a little reminder from life to remind me of my limitations.