Yesterday I posted an entry about my struggle with Depression. With that background information, I'd like to tell the story about how I came to love Vegemite.
I have some fairly intense anxiety about certain things. One of the worst is doing things alone. I don't know exactly what I think is going to happen, but doing things alone has just been nearly unfathomable to me for a large chunk of my life. There have been countless movies I've wanted to see in the cinema but had nobody to go with, so I just waited for the DVD release. I love Cleveland and there have been times I've really wanted to go for a spontaneous visit. Nobody to go with me? Never mind. It's an ordeal buying shoes without having somebody with me. I even have difficulties going to visit people alone. My best friend lives on the other side of the country. I've been out to see her twice, but each time I had to take my now-ex with me so I wasn't traveling alone.
Yesterday, I mentioned a breakup with my ex and the hit my sense of identity took. Not only was my relationship gone, but so was my family, my home, and even some of my friends. I was devastated and didn't know what to do. So I called a friend in New York City and told him what had happened. He immediately responded with "Get out here." And to everybody's surprise, even my own, I did.
Of course, I was panicking about which form of transportation to use. Flying was the logical option, but flights are expensive, I'd never flown by myself before, I didn't know the city and, the most overwhelming concern, I have a pretty serious fear of abandonment. Since the one person I'd thought would never abandon me had, in fact, just abandoned me, that fear was extra strong. I couldn't get around the fear of not being picked up at the airport. The logical part of me knows this is stupid. My friend, who I guess I'll call Charlie, is a fantastic person. I love him dearly. He is the only person in the contacts list on my phone for whom I use punctuation. He's not "Charlie" in my phone. He's "Charlie!" There is no logical reason for me to fear him abandoning me in a strange airport, or anywhere for that matter. He's a great person. He was exactly who I needed to see during this horrible crisis of identity. So I ultimately decided to drive to New York City.
The drive from where I was living at this time to NYC was about 700 miles. So I went to the library, checked out some audio books, and drove to NYC while listening to "Dracula" (which I've read more than any other book in my adult life). I was still heart-broken and feeling lost and, even though I was on my way to a wonderful friend who I knew was going to take great care of me, I felt so incredibly lonely. I called Charlie several times on the drive. He told me about life in New York and about his boyfriend, who I'd never met before, but had spoken to on the phone. Daniel is from Australia, really nice, and shared Charlie's and my odd sense of humor. Somewhere in eastern Pennsylvania in the Adirondacks, cell phone reception went out. I was tired and sad and stopped at a random hotel. I fell asleep in a strange bed watching "The Golden Girls," then woke up after a brief but expensive nap, and continued on my drive. Exhausted and sad, I arrived in New York City. I called Charlie as I crossed into Midtown and he ran downstairs and jumped in my car to help me find someplace safe to park. Daniel was waiting by the door when we walked in, with a plate in his hand. He handed me the plate and took my suitcase. On that plate was the most beautiful sight my eyes have ever beheld - two pieces of toasted French bread, buttered, and coated in Vegemite. I took a bite and it was the most phenomenal thing I've ever tasted. It was delicious and salty and just full of flavor. Mostly, it was just one of those random, small gestures that was so overwhelmingly kind that I didn't even know what to do. I have never felt so welcomed into somebody's home as I did when that stranger met me at the door and handed me something so reminiscent of his home.
Charlie and Daniel did so much for me in the time I stayed with them, the most obvious being allowing me to show up at their place and stay with them. And that is endlessly appreciated. It was tremendous of them to allow me to stay there and I'll never forget that kindness. But the part that brought tears of gratitude and feelings of safety and of being loved was that Vegemite toast. To this day, when I taste Vegemite, that's what I taste - safety, love, acceptance, and the most genuine act of kindness and friendship I've ever experienced.
"Charlie!": I love you, man.
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