Recently, I got to to narrate a condensed version of my animated New York Times Magazine essay on agoraphobia (here’s a gift link) as an Instagram reel (here’s a link to the reel.) There’s also a print version out there from a couple Sundays ago.
I’m looking out at Lake Michigan as I type this. It’s early. Life feels very big and very quiet all at once.
Today, I got up at sunrise to write, and because my cat wakes me up at that time anyway. Maybe I just ought to give into that habit. I like the relative lack of noise. I like the sacred pause before most people begin their day. Perhaps if I stayed up all day, I’d sleep better at night, too.
I used to sleep all day, because panic and anxiety and depression were worse during the day, and stay up all night, when I could just make art and listen to the radio. By the time I was sleepy, I felt less unwell. But I resisted going to sleep, because I knew I’d have to start all over again when I awoke.
My mom remembers walking into the tiny studio apartment from which she extracted me when I was a suicidal youth, and she says every inch of the floor was covered in paper.
I don’t remember the paper. I do remember the shitty brown carpet.
Anyway, on writing and narrating the aforementioned piece: it is an honor and I can’t quite believe it is real. A real reel? Yes. It is very nice to get to do these things, and I do not take it for granted. I am very fortunate and grateful. I hope you’ll share and enjoy it.
There’s also this new version designed for students ages 13 and up, courtesy of Jeremy Engle at the New York Times. It’s meant to spark discussion about fear. He did such a good job coming up with questions that might fit into a variety of classroom lessons, without talking down to students.
As a former teacher, seeing this made me very happy. As a former kid (aren’t we all!) who had panic attacks starting around age 8, it gives me hope that one of these kids may feel less alone from reading the piece or the comments.
I’m traveling for a few days and looking forward to seeing some greenery and some Great American Oddities. This being the Middle West, we have both. I will share the photographs in future on Patreon, where I do that sort of thing.
I still can’t believe I live here. In fact, I’d say it was the one part of the country that held no attraction for me. I never planned to move here, until shortly before I did move here. Now I am so glad to be in Chicago.
Of course, there was a time when I didn’t expect to stay alive on purpose anywhere, at all, through my twenties or my thirties, so, you know. I wasn’t exactly psychic about Major Life Choices and the such.
Here’s Polly the Demon Queen and I this morning. She’s 12 and I’m 44.5.
Take good care of yourselves, please. Breathe and get some quiet when you can. Drink water when you can. Sleep when you can. You deserve rest.
Love,
Sara
Book me to speak about mental health awareness
CLASS! with Sara Benincasa and Chad the Bird (monthly live show in Chicago)
Lerna, IL, which is down near New Salem, is the home of the world's fastest pop machine. Unbelievable, you day? I thought so too, until I tried it. Coin goes in, can magically appears with a clunk at bottom. Seek this phenomenon out yourself when you do your Lincoln trips.